#but its okay Jason is probably scratching her in retaliation

[kermdoeswriting]

Mutual Loathing

Jazz has never quite loathed anyone like she loathed Jason Todd.

And that was saying something considering the number of annoying people she has met both in life and in death (from the Ghost Zone, of course).

Jason was different compared to all of them. He was on a whole other level.

The guy was obnoxious and loved being right.

It was something she learned quickly ever since she had corrected him in their shared Lit class one time. After that, Jason had been relentless in making sure they were always arguing.

He always had to have the last word, looking at her with that stupid toothy grin plastered onto his face if she didn't have a smart remark to bite back with.

She wasn't sure if it was his ego or his need to fight with anyone he deemed worthy compared to him or whatever hellish trauma he went through, but she didn't care.

If there was one staple part of Jazzs core, it was that she was competitive and would not hesitate to crush you to get to her academic dreams.

Jazz was beating him to the deans list one way or the other, and he would have to deal with it!

Still, even with being competitive, Jazz tended to stick away from Jason Todd as much as she could unless she couldn't.

The one time she couldn't, being assigned together on a final project for said Lit class, Jazz had assumed it was dumb luck.

Now though?

Now Jazz was cursing out any god that would listen because she knows somehow it was also their fault that she's staring at that exact same guy whos been avoiding her and their shared project as Dannys new General and Fright Knight.

Jazz with a pinched nose in disgust: You've got to be kidding me-

Jason without missing a beat, groaning loudly: Not even in the land of genuine dead, can I escape you.

Jazz ignoring his comment: Is this where you've been going the entire time?

Jason: What I do outside of class is none of your business, Nightingale.

Jazz, defensive: It is when you've been avoiding me and our group project due on Monday! I'm not losing my scholarship because of some rich fruitloops, kid!

Jason with an eye roll: You're so dramatic you're not gonna lose your scholarship

Jazz trying not to wring his neck: How would you know!?

Danny deciding to finally interrupt them: Uh, can someone catch me up here?

Jazz and Jason in unison: Shut up Danny!

Jazz immediately after, pointing a finger at Jason: Wait, don't tell my brother to shut up!

Jason with raised eyebrows, channeling his inner drama nerd: Your BROTHER????

Immediately both start arguing all over again.

Tucker whispering to Sam and Danny: Something tells me we made a mistake-

Danny's holding his face in his hands in despair and nodding.

Sam snorts with her arms crossed, eyes flickering between the two, amused: No shit, sherlock

_________________________________________

Or basically

Jazz has the absolute misfortune to meet her younger brothers new Fright Knight, General of the realms. She thinks he's a regular asshole until it turns out he's actually the same asshole that's been paired up with her for a group project at uni and had been avoiding her since it started.

She hates this guy. He hates her, too.

[avis-writeshq]

Damian Wayne x Reader: All I Ever Wanted (Part 1)

Soulmate AU where you can’t physically hurt your soulmate.

Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing. There is one F-Bomb. Angst, mentions of blood, mentions of killing. Basically, like a weak M-Rated movie.

Other: Reader is 16. Damian is 17-ish. I tried my best to make your ‘parents’ names as unique as possible. But if you know anyone with that name, just change it in your head.

Word count: 4,102 (dAmN). Things you probably wanna know, for all you ‘x reader’ illiterates: (Y/N): Your Name (H/C): Hair Colour / Color (E/C): Eye Colour / Color ** Truth be told, you did not expect to find your soulmate. You didn’t expect to see him in a million years, and you really didn’t mind. Growing up in a villainous family, soulmates were naturally looked down on. Your own parents weren’t even soulmates; they had murdered them the first chance they got. They forced you to follow in their footsteps, and really, you knew no better.

Your parents were psychopaths. Okay, even that was an understatement. Your parents murdered innocent people, messed up people’s lives, just to get what they want. Whether that be jewellery, money, weapons, or revenge, they were bound to get it. They would stop at nothing- nothing! - to get what they wanted.

By the time you were 16, your parents agreed that you would never find your soulmate. After all, for 15 years of your life, you had been hurting more people that you could count. You never needed to worry about the fact that they could be your soulmate. You were sure that it was never going to happen either way.

Half of you didn’t mind not having a soulmate. How were you going to tell them that you were a cold-hearted murderer? Not only that but how would your parents react if you brought him home? He would be dead within seconds.

But the other half of you wanted a soulmate. Somebody to hold you when you were weak, to wipe away every tear… ‘Get a grip, (Y/N),’ you had scolded yourself when you began thinking such foolishness, ‘what would mother and father say if they found out?’ You certainly didn’t need any reprimanding or punishments.

“(Y/N)!” You heard your mother bark from the other side of the house. “Come here!”

You ran as fast as your two legs could possibly carry you, standing straight as a pin when you found them. “Yes, Mother?”

“There is a heist. You will, of course, be joining with us. After all, it is in your blood.”

“Right,” you mumbled. “Will I be lookout again?”

“Of course you will,” Your father snapped at you. “You should be grateful that we are even taking you along. You still have a chance to meet that horrid… soulmate of yours.” He spat out the words like they were poison.

“I… of course. Thank you, Mother. Father.” You forced a small smile before leaving to your room. ** You sighed, playing with your throwing knives as you stood guard. Your job was simple- take down anyone who tries to ruin the operation. You were so busy day-dreaming; you almost didn’t notice the soft ‘whooshing’ sound from above. Keyword: almost. You looked up, only to see about an inch of fabric tuck away on top of the large metal crates.

“Bats and the Bird are here. We have to go. Now.” You said into your earpiece.

“Honestly, Spitfire. Hold them off. We are not leaving this port until we get those jewels!” Your father spat.

“But-”

“Do as your Father says!” You mother snapped, leaving no room for retaliation.

You grumbled slightly but complied. You climbed up the side of the crate, calling out to the vigilantes. “Oi, Batsy! We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.” You readied your stance.

Batman muttered something to Robin who nodded and brought his katana out. You rolled your eyes. “Hard way it is.”

Without warning, you threw your knife directly at him, expecting it to embed into his thick skull, when it disintegrated in red and black ash. Apparently, he and Batman were pretty shocked as well.

“Shit,” Robin swore, gaping.

“I am going to die,” you whispered, taking a step back.

“Spitfire, what is going on? Have you gotten rid of those pests?” Father demanded.

“I can’t hurt them.” You said as bravely as you possibly could.

“We trained you to be better than this!” Your mother’s voice shrilled.

“No, I mean, I really can’t hurt them.”

“That can’t be,” Your mother said in a dead whisper.

“Well, it happened. We have to go. Now.”

But it was already too late. Batman was already fighting your father, throwing multiple punches at him. Your mother was getting the smoke bomb ready for a quick escape by the time you managed to get to them. Robin was still trying to secure the area and get rid of the shocked feeling that his soulmate was a villain.

You ran to your father’s aid. Just because you couldn’t hurt the sidekick, doesn’t mean you can’t hurt the Bat himself. “Spitfire! Pyro! We’re leaving!”

And, with smoke pouring around you, you were gone. ** “I can’t believe this,” Damian muttered to himself, pacing the Bat Cave. He ran a hand through his jet black hair, scowling. “I won’t believe this.”

“There’s no point in denying, Demon,” Jason smirked, taking a bite of his apple. “You’re destined to be with that freak. Not that you aren’t.”

“Shut it, Jay,” Dick sighed. “This is pretty hard for Damian.”

“Come on, Todd! We weren’t this bad when we found out that your soulmate was that musician. I don’t know about you, but fate was pretty cruel on her,” Tim hummed, working on a case.

Damian huffed, sitting on his chair and spinning around on it. He typed a few words into his computer, muttering to himself. “Spitfire. Where have I heard that name…?” Multiple images showed up on the screen, his green eyes scanning each one. “(Y/N) Keynes.”

“How…” Dick began but Damian cut him off.

“She was in the League of Assassins. She was in the year below me, kidnapped at the age of 8.” He scoffed in disbelief, glaring at the screen, “she was no safer there than she is now.”

“What are you talking about?” Tim demanded.

“If the Leaders ever found out we were… you know…” he trailed off slightly but continued to speak. “One of us would have died. And because my mother was one of the Leaders, I would be spared.”

“Wait, so you’re saying…” Jason frowned.

Damian rolled his eyes. “TT, slow as ever, I see. She would have died, idiot.”

The man muttered under his breath. “I know that, demon spawn.” ** You looked at your feet as your parents discussed their next move. “You know I’m right here, right?”

“Not another word,” your father hissed. “You failed this mission.”

“It’s not a mission if the motive is bad!” You argued. Your father lunged at you in anger, but you swiftly dodged to the side. “I am not hurting him.”

“If you’re talking about that insolent Bird Boy-” Your mother began.

“Don’t talk about him like that!” You snapped, glaring.

“Don’t give me that tone, young lady! I might not be your biological mother-” She stopped short.

“What are you talking about?” You queried. “What do you mean that you’re not my real mother?”

“We stole you,” your father, no, Odium said with a scowl, giving up the secrets. “From an assassin’s camp. You were the strongest child. Well, apart from that wretched Al Ghul.”

“You will help us kill!” your not-so-mother, Saeva, yelled.

“Never!”

“That was what you were trained to do,” Odium snarled.

“I don’t care! I’m not going to help you kill him!” You yelled back.

“Just because you’re not going to kill, doesn’t mean we won’t.”

Odium lifted his gun and aimed. Your eyes widened and you bolted out of the apartment. You ran down the stairs as faced as you could, sliding down the railings when you could. You forced your way between people, pushing through as you heard Odium yell your name. You continued to run faster, ignoring the burning of your lungs, legs begging for you to stop. You felt around your shins, feeling slightly more secured as you knew that your throwing knives were still on you.

You ran deeper into the streets of Gotham, only stopping when you knew that the coast was clear. You let out a breath, feeling the pain coarse through your body. You whimpered as you felt blood drip from where you scratched yourself on a metal fence. You had to keep going, you told yourself. You have to run. But you couldn’t. Your body could only take so much. You tried desperately to keep your eyes open. The sun was still high in the sky, torturing you with its warm rays of light.

“Stay awake,” you murmured. “Don’t fall…” you were on your knees, feeling the sweat drip down your face.

The last thing you heard was people yelling. Someone had yelled, “That’s her!” but you were too tired and too pained to move.

You closed your eyes. ** By the time you had opened your eyes, your wounds were treated and you were panicking. You shot up on the hospital bed with a scream. “Where the heck am I?! Who the heck are you?! Why the heck am I here?!”

“Relax, (Y/N). You’re in the Bat Cave.” A person said.

“Who are you?!”

“And we spooked her. Nice one, Dick Face.” Another person said.

“Why does he have a gun?!” You demanded.

“You’re the one who spooked her,” another person said, taking a sip of his coffee.

You were silent for a minute before feeling for your knives. “Where did you put my knives?”

“They’re on that table,” ‘Dick Face’ said helpfully.

The man with a gun covered his face with his hands. “You’re not supposed to tell her!”

“Oh.”

A few moments of silence passed, only to be interrupted by a certain green-eyed boy entering the room. “So, she’s awake.”

Your head snapped to see the direction of his voice, cocking your head in confusion. “You’re… Damian Wayne. That means…” Your eyes trailed loosely over the other three men. “Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and Tim Drake.”

“Oh, so now she recognises us,” Jason scoffed, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Shut up, Todd,” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell Ari that you’re being rude again.”

“Sorry to intrude,” you cut said in the middle of their conversation, “but can I go now?”

“(Y/N).” The youngest boy looked at you. “Do you know who I am?”

“I… how do you know my name?”

“Facial recognition,” Tim said with a shrug.

“Right…” you looked at the four wearily. “I mean, you can’t really miss the fact that Bruce Wayne has a biological son, can you?” You let out a forced laugh. Damian deflated slightly. “TT, so you don’t know me.”

“I guess? I mean, unless you were at some League of Assassins meeting and your father did the do-do with your mother there,” you snorted. “What are the chances of that, am I right?” The four boys looked at each other and your jaw dropped to the floor. “For once, I do not want to be right.” ** You sighed, sitting in the room that Bruce Wayne gave you. Damian had explained everything to you; who he was, secret identities, the whole shebang. The room that they gave you was really quite beautiful. The bed was a super king-sized bed with royal blue sheets made with delicate silk. The desks and drawers were a beautiful mahogany with an endless shine, unscratched and flawless. The balcony outside gave an incredible view of the city; the sunset surely was beautiful that day. A bookshelf filled with famous books stood next to the window, basically begging for you to read one. You groaned, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.

Collapsing on the bed, you let out a huff of annoyance. You weren’t supposed to be thinking, especially not about him. His gorgeous emerald green eyes, his flooooofy jet black hair, his confidence… ‘stop it,’ you scolded yourself, scrunching your nose in distaste. ‘You barely even know him.’

A small knock on the door alerted you, and you let out a small, “who is it?” before sitting up.

“It’s just Alfred, my Lady.”

Silence.

“I brought food.”

That did it. “Come in!”

A metal trolley rolled its way into the room, Alfred pushing behind it. “You did not come to dinner.”

You looked away. “I couldn’t bring myself to.” You forced a chuckle. “It seems as if Damian doesn’t like me much.”

“Master Damian has lived most of his life without a soulmate. So have you,” Alfred said as he carefully placed dishes on the desk. “I believe you have the same problems.”

“Not exactly,” a small smile made its way onto your face. “I never really wanted to admit it, but I’ve always wanted a soulmate. I just thought that I would never find them.”

“I suppose Master Damian thinks that he doesn’t need one,” the butler shrugged. “Now, I must be off. I believe Master Bruce wanted me to supervise Master Jason and Master Tim’s sparring.”

“Right.”

Glancing at all the food that was on your desk, you bit into the steak. Dang, that stuff was good. After you had finished what you could (literally one steak and some mashed potato. Were they expecting you to eat all the broccoli?) you began to read Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens. Only managing to get through one chapter, the door was opened, revealing Damian himself.

“I see you have finished dinner.”

“I have. It was very kind of your father to let me stay,” you offered a smile.

“So when are you leaving?”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Leaving?”

“I assumed your stay was… temporary,” he shrugged. “Perhaps you could go to back to your parents.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” You demanded, glaring. “And my parents want me dead!”

Another shrug. “You’re no better here.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You challenged.

“You killed for longer than I have,” he pointed out. “At least I stopped.”

“Are you saying that only you can change your ways?” You scowled at him. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“You think I asked to be raised as a killer?”

“Do you think I asked for my parents to be psychopaths?” Your voice was beginning to rise as your (E/C) eyes flashed dangerously.

“I didn’t ask for you to be my soulmate! I was better off without one!” Damian scoffed at you. “You’re only going to slow me down.”

Your heart almost stopped. Tears began to prickle in your eyes and you furiously blinked them away. “My parents wanted me to help them kill you! They told me to help them, and that if I didn’t, they’ll kill me. They’ll kill me, Damian! They threatened me, threatened you, and do you know what I did? I defended you!” A teary laugh erupted out of your throat. “I defended you. I vowed to myself that I would protect you. I promised myself that if I died, at least you would be safe. I wanted you to be fucking safe. And this is where it gets me. You may not have asked to be the son of Batman. But I didn’t ask to be the soulmate of some idiotic, egotistical moron who doesn’t know who to shut his mouth.”

Just as Damian was about to blow his fuse, Dick’s voice ran through the halls. “Hey, Damian! B wants us to spar.”

The Arabian boy huffed. “I’ll be back.”

You rolled your eyes. “I count on it.” ** Two hours later, Damian returned from his training, somewhat exhausted. It was past nine o’clock and Damian was almost convinced that you were asleep. Still, he found himself wandering to your room. The door was slightly ajar and a chill crept up the boy’s spine.

He carefully pushed the door open, expecting you to be asleep on the bed when he realised that the room was exactly the same way as he had left it. The dishes on the desk were stacked neatly and the bed was still made. His attention snapped to the balcony. Its door was open and the white curtains flowed in the wind.

“No…” the word was almost soundless as Damian searched the room for clues. On the desk, there was a small note written in clear cursive writing.

‘Don’t look for me.’

“Shit.” ** “What do you mean she ran away?” Dick demanded. “What did you do?”

“That’s beside the point, Grayson,” Damian spat. “We need to find her before she gets herself killed.”

“(Y/N) was raised with assassins,” Tim pointed out, typing into the computer. “She should be able to handle herself.”

“Her parents are psychopaths. They want her dead,” Dick told him.

“Shame, I was starting to get used to her,” Jason hummed, sharpening his knives. “She was pretty cool. Sick aim as well. You’re lucky, Demon Brat.”

Damian looked away guiltily. It was his fault that you’re gone. “We need to find her.”

“We don’t have any information about her. We don’t know who her parents are, we don’t know where she lives, and we don’t know where she went.” Tim scowled. “Great. She messed up our tracker!”

“How does she do that?!”

“It was part of the training,” Damian huffed. “We had to be able to hack into any computer or gadget.”

“Well, what are we even supposed to do? We’re running on empty.” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Drake, can you access the security cameras of the Harbour? The one where we stopped (Y/N) and her parents from completing their heist.”

“Uh… I guess? But, Damian, what’s that supposed to-” Tim paused before gaping. “She’s there! With… with her parents! Well, the footage is from an hour ago, but there are clear images of their face.”

“Great, run facial recognition,” Dick said, suiting up. “We need to find them. And get that tracker working.” ** -An Hour Earlier-

“We should have known that you would run back to us,” Saeva cackled.

“Join us, Daughter. We can rid this world of those rotten soulmates.”

You began to walk to them, head hanging low. Just as you were within arm’s reach, your head snapped up and you swiped your knife at them, drawing blood from their arms. “Not if I could help it.”

“Fool!” Odium yelled, lunging for your arm. “You’re a traitor if you go with that pesky bird!”

“Better him than you,” You hissed. “He doesn’t kill innocent people to get what he wants.”

Letting out a cry, Saeva attacked. With her sword, she attempted to slash your skin. You jumped back, kicking her sword from her hands and catching it. The fight raged on, leaving you bruised and wounded. A trail of blood trickled from your lip as Odium punched you in the mouth. You growled, fighting back and flipping him over onto his back. All weapons were abandoned and you tried your best to keep up with the fight.

Before you could react, Saeva had an arm on your throat, muttering in your ear. “Surrender now, (Y/N), or face the consequences.

“Never,” You managed in a raspy voice.

“So be it.” ** “Sharp left here,” Time said through the intercom. “Take a right now.”

“Can this thing go any faster?” Damian demanded, adjusting his utility belt.

“This is the Bat-Mobile,” Dick rolled his eyes. “Of course it can.”

Jason let out a whistle, “Relax, Demon. We’ll save your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Robin quipped. Red Hood scoffed. “Yeah, sure.”

“(Y/N)’s in there,” Dick cut in, parking the Batmobile beside the warehouse. “Be ready. They might be expecting us.”

The trio carefully tread into the warehouse, on guard for any traps or attacks. A rat’s small footsteps were heard from the railings above, squeaking quietly. Just as they made it to the centre of the warehouse, a loud bang was heard. The door had closed from behind them. In another second, the lights began to flicker, revealing you tied up to a chair, head lolled to the side.

Saeva and Odium walked into the room not even a second later, proud smirks on their faces.

“You,” Damian hissed, glowering at Saeva and Odium. “What have you done with (Y/N)?”

“That’s beside the point, Lover Boy,” Saeva, waved a hand dismissively. “You should be worried about what we’re going to do.”

“But your little girlfriend was the perfect bait,” Odium snickered. “You came running right to us. Oh and don’t think about trying to free her. No one can get in or out of that force field.”

Before long, punches were thrown, shots were fired and injuries were made. Nightwing and Red Robin were on the ground, bruised and battered. A trickle of blood made its way down Dick’s forehead, while Jason was tending to his dislocated arm. Saeva had been knocked unconscious and was wearing Batcuffs on her wrists. Odium, on the other hand, was a different story. He put up a much bigger fight and was doing a reasonable amount of damage to the others. Damian let out a cry before putting him in a headlock.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, boy,” the man spat before twisting his body around and breaking free. In a blink of an eye, he was standing upright, a gun pointed directly at you. “You wouldn’t want her to die, would you?”

“Let her go,” Damian snarled as dangerously as he could. “Leave her out of this! It’s me you want.”

“That’s so cliché isn’t it?” Odium snorted. “But you’re wrong. I want my daughter back. The girl who didn’t care if she had a soulmate or not. It’s your choice really. Give yourself to me, or watch her perish.”

“You’re bluffing!” Dick managed desperately, his grip tightening on his escrima stick. “No one can get into that force field.”

“I didn’t say nothing.”

“Take me, then,” Damian said slowly. “Just leave her alone.”

“Smart choice,” the corners of his lips twitched. “But not smart enough.”

Just as he was about to fire, Dick threw his escrima stick as hard as he could, hitting Odium in the back. Losing his aim, the bullet found its way into your shoulder. Letting out a scream, Damian unsheathed his sword, attacking Odium the best he could without killing him. The man didn’t even put up a fight. Before long, Dick had Odium on the ground unconscious, attaching Batcuffs around his wrists.

“I managed to hack into the system,” Tim’s voice echoes in Damian’s ears. “The force field is down.”

“(Y/N)!” Damian yelled, cutting through your bounds. Just managing to catch you as you fell, he began to panic. “Come on, wake up! (Y/N), wake up!”

“We need to get her back to the Cave,” Dick said softly, a hand on his bloodied arm. “Alfred can fix her up. Red is already in the Batmobile, securing her captors.”

“Right, of course. You better not pay attention to any of the road signs, Grayson, or I’ll kill you.” ** It has been almost a month since you were in a coma, and it was enough to drive Damian crazy. He visited you as often as he could (considering the fact that the Cave was in his basement, it would be safe to say that he probably didn’t leave) and he talked to you through your unconsciousness.

“(Y/N)… please wake up,” he mumbled, looking at your sleeping form. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was somewhat reassuring. At least you weren’t going to die.

Your eyes moved from underneath your eyelids and you forced your eyes to open. “Ugh, where am I?” you groaned, sitting up in an awkward position.

“You’re awake!” Was the first thing you heard. You looked around, only to see Damian with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you said with a lopsided grin.

“You’re going to be okay,” the boy promised. “You’re going to be okay. Father said you could keep the room you stayed in. Or you could move. He said it didn’t matter, but I was wondering if…” he trailed off.

You really liked where this is going. Peering at his emerald green eyes, you cocked your head in confusion. “If what?”

“If you… wanted the room next to mine?” A blush crept up his neck as he looked at you expectantly.

“This coming from the guy who didn’t want me as a soulmate,” you smirked at him. “Admit it, you like me.”

Damian looked away as blood rushed to his cheeks. “Shut up, idiot.”

You laughed. “I would love to have a room next to yours.”

The Arabian boy offered a smile at you, brushing a strand of (H/C) hair from your face. “I truly am sorry, (Y/N).”

“I know. I’m sorry if I wasn’t what you expected.”

“Beloved, you’re everything I ever wanted.”