#enemy fire

[aries-writingblog]

Enemy Fire: 22.5

Summary: There's a new kid in town, and she's got a city to usurp.

Pairing: Jason Todd × F. Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings:

AN: photos are from Pinterest

YN readjusted her position on the overstuffed suede couch. All of the furniture in the Manor felt stiff, unused. Supremely uncomfortable, despite what Bruce had probably paid for the items.

The Wayne Manor was an interesting conundrum, in of itself.

With its steep staircases and grand, sweeping halls it was all regal. And in opposition to the Gothic exterior, the interior was brightly lit. Floor to ceiling windows, various chandeliers hung brilliantly from the ceilings and sconces decorated the walls.

What was interesting was the mash of art and photography.

What seemed to be authentic, antique paintings. Various portraits of, what appeared to be the Wayne family. Young Bruce and his parents, all smiling and sitting comfortably together.

All around the mansion, there were framed photographs of various stages in the lives of the Wayne children.

Bruce was obviously proud of his children— and even those who weren’t adopted had several photos in their home.

And the animals…

They also had their place in the hall of photographs.

A dog, cat, cow, three goldfish, and a newly acquired pet lizard.

All Damian’s. The boy seemed to have a knack and a liking for the critters. They were all well behaved animals, as well; YN could at least acknowledge his diligence in training the beasts. Even if he didn’t quite trust her enough yet to let them be around her.

A screech down the hall jolted her from her reading. Various other loud noises joined in after the scream— the cacophony fortunately headed down the hallway, not in her own direction.

She had found refuge in the library, away from all the noise and people. Wayne Manor could barely be categorized as crowded, but sometimes it still felt like it.

Jason stepped out of his shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.

He had barely slept since his arrival and it was beginning to wreak havoc on his systems.

Memories he hadn’t thought of in years flooded him every night; Terrors and nightmares kept him awake, when his recurrent insomnia wasn’t on duty.

Every corner he turned in the Mansion reminded him of a time before.

Before the pain and hurt.

Before he was the creature he had become.

He blinked, realizing he had been standing in a haze. Unfocused eyes stared back at him in the mirror before they trailed down to the patchwork of his chest and abdomen.

He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding in aggravation.

He was going to lose his fucking mind in this place.

Jason managed to escape his room, fully dressed. He hadn’t the faintest idea of what he was supposed to do, now that he and YN were a package deal on house arrest.

YN…

Fuck, he hadn’t even checked in with her for days. He had been so strung out, his mind had begun slipping.

Ever since the training session he had sat in on, something sat at the base of his skull. A wriggling, nagging little thing.

Doubt.

He knew it had to be doubt.

It was persistent; Asking if he had done the right thing. If, perhaps STAR labs would’ve been a better choice.

Because Jason had done exactly what Bruce had done.

He made a decision for her. Without her even knowing about an option to consent to. He had made an attempt on her life, for God’s sake.

He hadn’t even stopped to think about the impact of that choice.

What if she had actually died?

Gangsters were notoriously untrustworthy.

Why the fuck had he put her life in the hands of some… guy?

Why the fuck had he gotten involved with her in the first place? She was plenty capable of handling herself.

Why the fuck had he ever thought he could be a friend to someone?

Jason Todd was a cancer.

And he couldn’t ruin her. YN was this… magnificent warmth. He was going to bleed her dry, until she was as cold as he was.

“Are you okay?” YN asked.

Jason blinked. He realized, with a start that he had been blindly wandering the hallways.

“What?” He asked, voice hoarse and strained. He had heard words, but they had been muted— as if underwater.

YN arched a brow, her head dipping lower to catch his eyes.

“You’ve been standing in the doorway for like five minutes.” She explained.

“M’fine.” He brushed her off, leaning against the doorframe. Attempting to be casual. It was increasingly difficult, considering his previous train of thought— that seemed to stick like gum on his shoe. “You been training?”

He nodded to the darkening mark around her eye. Evidence that someone could land a punch on her.

YN clicked her tongue, annoyance settling over her. She guessed he had heard about the training session from earlier, where she handed Duke’s ass to him and slammed Cass to the mats.

She hadn’t known to take it easy— they had told her to give it her all, to see what they were against. To make it fair, she hadn’t used any supernatural abilities, it had only been hand to hand.

But truthfully, Jason hadn’t spoken to any of his siblings yet.

He was simply being observant.

“You here to tell me I’m too violent?” She grumbled, sinking deeper into the sofa, trying to use her book to guard her face.

He sighed, pushing his weight back away from the doorframe.

“You’re too reckless. Sometimes violence is a means to an end, it’s easier and more effective.” Jason explained, moving further into the room. He stopped at the end on the couch, his knee brushing the bottom of her socked foot. “But being hostile and violent without a plan never ends well.”

“I plan stuff.” She grumbled, unhappily. He snorted.

“Not a good plan if it ends with improvise, or if you panic halfway through.”

“Jerk.”

Jason smirked.

Maybe he could bask in her warmth without leeching it. Maybe there was hope.

“What are you reading today, Tails?” He asked, attempting to peek through her fingers to the title.

YN dropped the book to her lap, her pen jotting down small words in the margin.

“Some idiot put these annotations in and they’re all wrong. Going through and correcting them.” She explained, finishing up her writing before picking the book back up.

Jason squinted, focusing in on the small swathe of book title he could read.

It looked familiar. Almost like…

He snapped forward, snatching the book out of her hands. She cried out in anger, confusion on her features.

“Those are my annotations.” Jason flipped through several pages. All the writing was in his neat penmanship, though now there was accompanying writing along side his. His was written in black ink, hers in purple.

Nearly all the purple contradicted the black, not to mention the question marks beside some of his words.

“Oh. You got them all wrong.” YN corrected, peeking over the top of the book.

Jason scowled, snapping it closed.

“That’s not possible. It was my own interpretation.” He argued.

YN shrugged, leaning back into the couch again.

“Your interpretation sucks.”

“You suck.”

“Your mom.”

Jason laughed, a haughty sound as he propped his hands on his hips.

“Jokes on you, my mom is dead.”

“What the fuck?”

Both Jason and YN’s heads snapped to the doorway, where the voice emanated from. Dick stood in blatant confusion at the predicament he arrived into.

YN leaned forward and snatched the book from his grasp, settling back into her place comfortably. A grin on her lips.

Jason frowned— both at her and his brother.

His eyes narrowed as he straightened his spine, his chest becoming more broad. Unconsciously, he leaned to the side, slightly; Just enough to begin blocking Dick’s view of YN.

“What do you want?” Jason groused.

Dick took the opportunity to step into the room further, as if he had been invited.

Jason clenched his fists.

In his visions of warmth, he had never imagined sharing. Much less with Grayson.

“I was going to ask YN if she had eaten dinner yet.” Dick offered, attempting to peek around the mountainous form of his brother.

Jason narrowed his eyes.

“What’s it to you?”

“Being friendly.” Dick shrugged.

“What for?”

“Why are you giving me the third degree?”

YN lifted a brow, her head tilting to see around Jason. The shit eating grin on Dick’s face told her enough.

Jason only bulked up; His chest and shoulders expanding. A sneer on his face.

“Was that a fucking pun— I’ll put a bullet in your ankle.”

YN heaved a dramatic sigh, slamming the book closed and leaving it on the table. She stood and stretched her shoulders out— arms rising above her head. Her shirt lifted, revealing her hips, where her pants were riding low.

Jason physically stopped himself from reaching out and pulling her shirt back down.

A violent shade of green tinged his sight, staking through his heart. Dissatisfied that Dick was able to bear witness.

YN didn’t seem to care that either were in the room with her.

“I’m already booked with Cass, Steph, and Barbara. Thanks anyway, Dick.” YN bumped Jason out of the way with her shoulder. He barely moved. “See you around, loser.”

She disappeared out of the doorway and almost instantly became untraceable. Jason didn’t know how she kept managing to do that— he was able to hear a mouse sneeze from two rooms over. Yet, he could never hear her footsteps or her heartbeat.

It was as infuriating as she was.

“Are they forming a girl group?” Dick asked, pointing after her. He frowned. “Dammit, why does she get accepted into girl’s nights and I don’t?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Bludhaven?” Jason asked, irritated by his brother’s increased presence. “Maybe have a job and shit?”

Dick frowned. He and Jason hadn’t been on the best of terms since the arrest went down. He couldn’t blame him for the betrayal he must have felt.

He did wish that Jason wasn’t such a vindictive personality.

That he would willingly sit and chat instead of keeping everything pent up until it exploded.

“I’m here for the weekend.” Dick answered, simply. He turned it on Jason, eyes wide and innocent. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m making sure you don’t talk YN into signing her soul over to you freaks.” Jason griped, hands shoved into his pockets and chin tilted up. Jaw clenched.

Dick’s brow furrowed.

“What?” He asked, meeting his brother’s sharp gaze. “The Titans— you heard that conversation?”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. What conversation? He had already tried recruiting her?

What the hell was his game?

“I don’t care what you’re trying to accomplish,” He started, his voice low enough to sound calm, but still threatening. “I don’t care if you think she could save all of Gotham City— or the tristate area, or the country. Stop with the hero shit.”

“What if it’s something she wants?” Dick countered, almost instantly. Jason’s jaw clenched tighter. He had just preached to himself about loosening that obsessive, possessive grip. Here he was: breaking it again. “You can’t force her to make a decision you like just because you’re in love with her.”

Oh…

Oh, no…

Fuck.

Fuck— what if Dick was right?

No; No, Dick was wrong. He didn’t love her. He barely even knew her. These past months had been acquaintanceship— strained friendship at best.

Dick was talking out of his league again.

“Shut the hell up.” Jason rumbled, his chest tingling with the building chaos.

“You can’t even admit it to yourself.” Dick scoffed, lips pulling into a deprecating, half smile.

“There’s nothing to admit.”

“You’ve frozen your heart for so long you can’t even thaw it if you wanted to.”

“I said, shut up!”

Jason lunged forward, wrapping his arm around Dick’s throat. He didn’t falter, however, and immediately clawed at his much larger brother’s arms. Managing to wriggle out of his grasp, Dick stumbled back.

His expression read shock. He knew that Jason had been repressing everything, but he didn’t know that he had been denying it existed.

To Jason’s credit, he had a tinge of regret in his eyes. Anger still clouded the bicolored irises, leaving his face creased with the violent streaks of rage.

But his hands started trembling.

He didn’t even think— he had just attacked.

He attacked his brother, again.

Jason backed away, nervousness beginning to settle in his bones. He cast one final glare in Dick’s direction.

“Stay away from her.” He warned, shoving past the eldest Wayne.

Dick tripped over his feet, the force of Jason’s push harsher than he had anticipated.

He was in for an extremely rude awakening, later; Dick unfortunately, knew the realization was going to be a bitch. And even though he was being a first class asshole recently, Jason would calm down after a few days.

He just needed to settle.

The dust needed to clear in his head before he could see his heart.

[stardust948]

~*~ 

"Zuko-"

"How could she say that?! It doesn't matter if I didn't show up?! I'm late one time and she's already iced me out!"

"Listen, Sugar Queen is just as tired and frustrated as you. And it doesn't help that fakey dragon was egging her on. Her questions sounded way too innocent. She totally saw us."

“Whatever. I don’t care.” Zuko snapped.

“Sounds like you do.”

“She’s being reckless! First blindly trusting this so called ‘hero’ then blowing me off after one stupid argument?! But I’m the jerk for being concern!”

“Zuko-“

“I said I’m fine!” He kicked over a trash can. “Whether Painted Lady like it or not, I'm going to expose that wanna be, spy, or whatever the ash she is before she hurts her! Or worse." 

~*~

[shinynewmemories]

No but the Hunger Games really said "what do you hate more- the atrocities or the people who commit them against you? Because like it or not there IS a difference. If you hate the people who commit acts of pure evil more than you hate the acts themselves, what will stop you from becoming just like your enemies in your pursuit of justice? What will keep you from commiting those very same acts against THEM when the opportunity arises? And what then? The cycle of pain and suffering will never stop. Round and round it'll go. Nothing will ever change. But. BUT. If you hate the atrocities. If you hate the vile, senseless acts MORE than you hate the people who did them to you. If you are able to see that evil is evil regardless of who does it... The cycle ends with you. No, you may never get justice. But you will never be responsible for making others, even your enemies, suffer the same crimes you have. The atrocities will never be committed by you, never by your hand. And that's the way you change the world. It's the ONLY way" and that's why I am sure it will never stop being one of the most relevant works of fiction ever created

[alex-wolfdragon]

Has anyone else envisioned an entire story, whether it be a fanfic or otherwise, by listening to a single song? I'll go first.

This song literally animated a huge chunk of Rainbow Family for me.

[gelifish33]

At His Mercy

It’s been hours. I’ve had hours to think over my decision. Nothing changes what I’ve done.  The door opened on creaking hinges. It seems the city’s hero is too busy saving everyone else to take proper care of himself and his home. There wasn’t much to see when I staggered through the window. I left a bloody handprint on the sill before I slammed it shut.  He’s going to have to throw out these…

[hauntedbythenarrative]

It would be a hundred times easier

If we were young again

Where Did You Go?, Hishaam Siddiqi//Waiting for This Story to End Before I Begin Another, Jan Heller Levi//Jodi Picault//Brutus, The Buttress//Two slow dancers, Mitski// House of the Dragon (2022-)

[donutfloats]

They were both fired the next day

[oppositemangos]

Gay people power move (this is kinda lazy, it's like 1am leave me alone)

[aries-writingblog]

Enemy Fire: 25

Summary: There's a new kid in town, and she's got a city to usurp.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: language, stab wound, violence, mention of gun violence, alcohol consumption

AN: it’s here, babes. The moment we’ve all waited for. Photos from Pinterest (credit to original creator)

Jason paced over the carpet in the hallway. The strands of thread worn into tracks from how he had been continuously treading over them.

The room to his left was silent— barely even the thumping heartbeats audible. But fuck, was he relieved to hear two.

His hands hadn’t stopped shaking since Bruce told him. He’d shoved them deep into his pockets, forcing his face to stay neutral when his heart exploded into fragments. Piercing his insides, slicing his organs.

In that instant, Jason wished he had let her leave Gotham. He wanted to go back and get her out before anything else could happen.

Go back to the stakeout mission, get up, throw his cup away, get on his bike and leave.

He should’ve known that his luck would bleed into her own. He was cursed and it was on her now.

There was no escape anymore.

The door clicked open, and the tall frame of Alfred presented itself. He closed the door firmly, his gaze swinging onto the flushed face of Jason before him.

“What happened?” Jason demanded, his eyes wide. Boring into Alfred’s face.

The boy was disheveled, clearly distraught. Alfred blamed Bruce; All he was probably told was that YN was stabbed and Alfred was working on her. It was no good, riling Jason up, that way.

Making him worry over nothing.

“She aided Master Bruce in stopping a robbery. One of the thieves pulled a knife. On Damian.”

“She took it for him?” Jason asked, confusion riddling his features.

YN took a knife? For Damian Wayne, of all people…

“Then she shot them.” Alfred continued, untroubled by the bewilderment of his ward.

“Damian?”

“The criminals, Master Todd, keep afoot.” Alfred advised, linking his hands together behind his back.

Jason pressed his hand to his face, exhaling a soft sigh. Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallowed; His fingers moving to comb through his hair, pushing it back from where it flopped over his forehead.

“She lose blood?”

“Not much.” Alfred informed. Jason’s knees almost gave out from relief. “I’ve finished bandaging her wound, but I’m putting her on strict bed rest for a week. Until I know more about her healing patterns.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll be fun for all of us.” Jason muttered.

YN would not take kindly to being told to sit out on her newly acquired taste of freedom. Even if it was to heal an injury.

Jason approached the door, his hand on the handle.

“Master Jason,” Alfred interrupted, drawing his attention back to the elder butler. His face as solemn as ever, the same gleam to his eyes as always present. “I would advise keeping the arguments to a minimum. The poor girl was just stabbed, I’m sure she wants some rest before the two of you pick it back up?”

“And let her get away with being stupid?” He asked, shaking his head. “No promises, Alfred.”

He opened the door and stepped through.

The blinds and curtains were wide open, allowing as much sunlight as possible to filter through.

That much, he was certain was Yn’s work.

She always seemed to sit in patches of sunlight, like a cat. Relishing in the warmth provided by a star, millions of miles away.

The closest she would let comfort be.

YN sat, sulking on her bed. Hands in her lap, her head turned to stare out of the window. Her lips pursed, face pinched. Blankets over her legs, pooled around waist.

“Jesus, Tails.” Jason grumbled, slamming the door behind himself.

She frowned, her head turned further away from him as he stalked closer.

Without any formalities, he sauntered to her bedside. Using three fingertips, he yanked her shirt up enough to see her side.

“Ow.” She jerked away, slapping at his hand to leave her alone.

Jason resisted her attacks; Though he dropped her shirt, he towered over her body. Glaring down at her.

“Can you maybe not get stabbed while my back is turned?” He asked, gesturing with one hand, down to her injured side.

YN crossed her arms, a pout on her lips.

“I can’t help that.” She croaked, voice harsher than he had expected. “Don’t turn your back, keep an eye on me at all times— I thought that’s why I moved into this godforsaken mansion to begin with and here we are—“

“YN.” He interrupted. She faltered, wide eyes focused on his face. “Shut. Up. You panicked, again.”

Like a child scorned, she bit down on her lip, eyes cast into her lap. She seemed to be retreating into herself.

“Sorry.” YN apologized, softly.

Jason’s hand pushed through his hair. Hesitating, debating whether he would be welcome into her little world she seemed to have retreated into.

He sat down on the mattress, his weight only halfway secured. When she didn’t curl further into herself, he settled more.

He had to wonder, what it was like in her childhood. Having been brought up an instrument of pain. Of terror.

What happened when she failed?

What made her panic every single time she was forced to make a decision?

He didn’t know if the answers were better than the questions.

Jason reached out, carefully. His fingertips lightly brushing her arm before falling to the sheets beside her thigh.

“It’s okay here; You can panic here.” Jason consoled.

Yn’s eyes met his, still watery from pain and tired from her exhaustion and whatever Alfred had prescribed.

“I didn’t freeze up, out there.” She clarified.

Jason smiled, no teeth showing— he didn’t doubt that. YN never froze, exactly. She just… rushed in.

“But you made reckless decisions when shit hit the fan.” He explained, nodding down to her injury. YN’s frown returned, as did her avoidance of eye contact. “It’s something you can learn to control, you can use it to your advantage. Your fight or flight will kick in, but you have to wait it out. Identify what can help you and not just jump to the first thing that comes to mind.”

YN sank deeper into the mattress. She supposed he had some semblance of what her thought process was. Bruce had told her stories of a younger, much less experienced Jason.

One who rushed, far too often; One who fought too hard to prove himself.

Who disobeyed orders and followed his straying emotions to his own death.

A boy who had poured his soul into being who he was today.

She couldn’t compete with that. She had been led around on a leash— aimed her weapon at whom ever stood before her. Unquestioning.

It was why she was doubting herself now, wasn’t it?

YN winced, pulling her knees to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her legs, hugging the solidness against her body. Grounding herself from the spiral she had been caught in one too many times before.

“You think I can?” She asked, her lip half quirked into a smile. It didn’t stick for long; Just enough to flash at him before she buried her face in her arms.

Curling tighter.

Closing herself off.

“Stop doubting yourself.” Jason scooted closer, tilting his head to catch her gaze. “I don’t know what you’ve been told before us, but people can change. They do, all the time.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.” She decided, her eyes meeting his.

Because you don’t seem to have any, he wanted to grab her, shake her, scream at her. Jason had to have faith in her, because he was carrying enough for the whole family.

She had to prove them wrong.

YN could be better.

Because that would mean Jason wasn’t faking. Two data points were always better than a single incident. A lucky mistake.

A fluke.

An accident.

Jason’s tongue kissed his teeth.

He didn’t know what was worse: the skepticism in her tone or the fact that she said it at all.

Sometimes, she was her own worst enemy. Sometimes, she just needed to shut up and stop thinking.

Without warning, Jason swept forward and pressed his lips to hers. YN jumped— startled by his sudden movement. As she jolted back, the kiss disconnected; Not for long, as she surged forward, teeth clashing messily.

She noticed, instantly— his lips were cold. In fact, there was little to no body heat coming from him. His hands that cupped her face were equally chilled.

An unsteady flare burned her chest, her skin grew warmer. Jason’s face burned, his skin warm from the heat emanating from her body. She was so… warm.

God, she was warm. Warmer than her normal, scorching temperature.

This felt cosmic— like he was standing too close to the sun. Tempting the flames to caress his face, burn the oxygen from his lungs.

He broke away, panting, his breath fanning over her lips and his forehead pressed to hers.

His mismatched eyes flickered between hers, analyzing every color and pattern he could. He had rarely found himself that close, or at least, without being harmed.

Even so, she didn’t back away either. Keeping the proximity zero to none; Inhaling each exhale.

“What the fuck was that?” She whispered.

Jason closed his eyes, shaking his head. He knew he had to explain his actions but he didn’t quite trust his voice.

Her fingertips scorched her prints into the skin of his neck. Heat bled onto the edge of his scar— and she could feel his chilled touch, thumb brushing along the raised edge of the scar on her cheek.

“I don’t know.”

YN sighed.

She was actually speechless. His skin felt heavenly against her own— cold, but far from lifeless.

Her eyes closed, eyelashes still wet from her earlier tears of pain and the fit she threw with Alfred’s stitching. The wound that had relatively calmed since her arrival, flared again— every rapid heartbeat sending a fresh wave of dulled, throbbing pain down her side. Washing over her entire body.

But she didn’t regret that. Not now. Not when she had just tasted paradise. From such an unlikely source.

What… the… fuck…

A sudden, stressful knock on the door sent both pairs of eyes flying open. Both parties scrambling away, disconnecting and shattering the strange, uncertain air between them.

“Hey, YN?” Duke called, standing behind the closed door.

YN cleared her throat, busying her hands with the blankets and her own clothes— anything to keep her mind off the walking enigma known as Jason Todd.

“You can come in.” YN answered, her voice nearly level.

Jason was mildly impressed— slightly annoyed— at her ability to act as if nothing had happened. To brush all her vulnerability back under a rug, hide it with a neutral face.

Because his mind had malfunctioned. He felt sluggish and tipsy. Off kilter— his world had just been rocked off its axis by a single kiss. Two pairs of lips brushing together had deconstructed his entire surroundings into 2D minimalist artwork.

Everything had shifted just two degrees.

Just left of normal.

“Jason, hey. I didn’t know you were here.” Duke’s voice was breathless. As though he had run all the way from the city.

“Just leaving.” His voice was hoarse. His face burned as he cleared his throat, cramming all the unidentifiable emotions back down his throat— successfully this time. As they all made it down without getting hung. His eyes flicked to YN. “I’ll be back here in a few hours, Tails.”

YN nodded. Though her mind was flying down the tracks— screaming and crying and, by all means, in full panic mode.

But she was not going to get up and start screaming, without prompt. She was going to act normally until she could think it through.

She could act normal for five minutes until his irritating face left her sight.

How fucking dare he kiss her like that— kiss her at all, really?

Who the fuck did he think he was, and why didn’t she just push him away when it happened?

YN blinked, realizing that she had, one, been glaring at him in silence, and two, he wanted an actual answer. With her words.

Now he was taunting her.

Her skin flushed with another bout of heat, only this time, she recognized it.

Anger.

“Got it. Enjoy your freedom.” YN snipped, folding her hands over her blankets.

Jason tipped his head.

“Enjoy your imprisonment.” He responded, quickly turning to make his hurried exit.

YN clenched her jaw, her hands spreading over the blankets. Smoothing them out. She inhaled deeply before turning her attention back to Duke.

“What’s up with you?” She snapped.

Duke paused. Maybe she wasn’t the best person to ask; She looked extra pissed today. Jason probably had something to do with that— they fought like alley cats on good days.

This seemed to be a bad day.

But he had no one else to ask, at the moment. Other than someone who seemed to be an expert. Or at least, closer to one than any one else of the Manor.

“I might need your help.” He started, hands wringing together. YN lifted a brow, urging him to continue. She might’ve been injured but she didn’t want to sit there all day, listening to his problem. “I have this friend… she had a blood test done last week and found out she has the Metagene.”

This was his problem? Seriously?

“This friend have powers?” YN asked.

Duke thought back to the spark against his palm when he touched the door handle. It could’ve been static, but it had happened every day, at least three times a day, for the past week.

Maybe coincidental.

Maybe abilities.

“No.” He answered, to be on the safe side.

“Then she’s a carrier. Next.”

He blinked.

“Carrier?”

YN scoffed, her eyes piercing through his skull.

She really was in a bad mood today.

“Are you deaf? Carrier. No abilities, you pass it on. What’s the problem?” She snapped.

Duke’s face broke out in a large grin— relief draining down.

He nearly leapt forward to press a thankful kiss to her forehead, until he thought better. Realizing that she was injured, not restrained.

“Absolutely nothing— it is a great day!” He cried, hands on his hips.

YN rolled her eyes.

These people were truly irritating.

“Hey, dickhead,” She interrupted his parade, prepared to rain bombs if she needed. “Being a meta isn’t the worst thing to happen to a person.”

Duke’s smile fell. Guilt stabbed his heart; He didn’t realize that in his celebration, she would be impacted.

He was practically spitting in her face.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He started, shaking his head. Before he could continue, she scoffed. Her eyes rolling as her head turned away, arms crossing.

Hurt flickered across her features before she covered it with anger.

“Sure.” Her voice was monotone.

Duke pressed his lips together. If he spoke further, she would just become more angry. There was no explaining or apologizing now; She was already stirred up.

She would only lash out and leave both of them hurt.

He turned away, his hand on the doorknob. Stopping for a moment to look back at her.

“Thanks, YN.” He called.

He opened the door and stepped out, hearing a slightly sarcastic ‘no problem’ behind him.

Roy pocketed his keys, shouldering his door open. Jason ambled in behind him, his eyes already bleary. Limbs jelly.

He had nearly broken into the apartment hours prior, jimmying the window and sliding in. He crashed on the couch when he heard very loud, very abrasive singing from the shower.

The first of him that Roy saw was Jason’s ass— as he lay face down into the cushions. The last of his vodka sat on the coffee table beside him.

So after prying his friend from the couch, and putting pants on, Roy downed the rest of the alcohol and then dragged Jason out on the town.

In search of the nearest liquor store.

Which was where they were returning from.

Roy tossed his keys, missing them completely as they came back down, but left them on the floor. He was much more interested in the bag he carried in his arms.

He put it down on the kitchen table, rubbing his palms together eagerly. Jason had stumbled after him, picking up the keys and turning the lights on.

Roy pushed a bottle of something into his chest, before rifling through the bag again.

Jason cracked it open and downed a large gulp, without thinking. He winced at the tingle in his throat.

“What the fuck is in this, gasoline?” He coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Roy’s eyes rolled, head tilting to glance over his shoulder. His hands stalled, glass bottles clinking together in the brown bag.

“You wanted liquor. Mkay? L-I-K….” His eyebrows furrowed, mouthing the letters again. “That’s not right. Liq… liquor.” He shook his head, the thoughts leaving like an etch-a-sketch. Just like that, his brain was blank again. “You wanted to get fucked up. This is the fastest solution.”

“I didn’t want to sear off my tastebuds.” Jason complained.

He thrust the bottle back into Roy’s chest, forcing him to take it. He ambled over to the cabinets, rummaging through the various cups and mugs for shot glasses.

“That’s the sacrifice you make, my friend.” Roy responded, crumpling the bag up. He was definitely feeling the effects of their pregaming; He blinked heavily, trying to clear his bleary eyes. “You never drink, anyhow. What’s the problem?”

Jason groaned, snatching the glasses and leaning his forehead against the door.

Flashes of heat filled his memory, coals being raked across his flesh.

A shiver ran down his spine— he could feel the press of her lips to his. The warmth. The eager reciprocation. His hands on her.

He shouldn’t have run out like that. He should’ve stayed and talked through it all. It wasn’t fair to her.

He squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth. No. No, he did the right thing. He needed to leave right when he did. If he had stayed, he would’ve become a jerk.

He would’ve snapped at her, retreated into himself. Protected himself. And she would’ve gotten pissed and it would’ve ended in a fight.

They always fight.

So why did it feel so good?

“My fucking life is the problem, man.” Jason whispered, his eyes cracking open again.

Roy paused, his mind sobering.

“Jason,” He spoke softly, steadily. He swallowed, teeth running over his bottom lip. “If it’s this again, we’re getting you help, this time. I’m not letting you go through this alone.”

Jason turned, taking in his friend’s stance. The tenseness in his shoulders.

Roy thought…

He left the glasses on the counter, hand extended to his friend.

“No, it’s… no.” Jason stumbled as he stepped forward, a wave of vertigo smashing into his head. He pressed his hand against the sink instead and shifted his weight into the counter. Then, he sank down to sit on the floor, pressed to the cabinets. He pushed his palms into his eye sockets until he saw stars. “I just, I don’t know where my head is at. Every decision I’ve made these past few days have been clouded. The whole situation with YN and Bruce. My family.”

Roy exhaled, blinking away his watery eyes.

He leaned across, snatching the glasses and two bottles before sinking to the floor across from Jason. The steel toes of Jason’s boots pressed into his tibia.

“What’s going on, man?” He asked, settling into place. He cracked the lids of the bottles, pouring up two shots and tapping Jason’s leg.

Jason looked up, seeing Roy knock his first shot back. He accepted the other glass, letting it slide easily down his throat.

He exhaled sharply, allowing Roy to refill the glass. He shot it back before brushing a hand through his hair.

“It’s all just… jumbled up at this point. I don’t know anymore.” He complained, gratefully accepting his next shot.

“Start at the top. What’s eating you the most?”

Jason stared into his empty glass.

That was the problem: everything was. Bruce and Dick, YN. Alfred’s cryptic glances when he asked where YN was. Tim’s doubtful looks on both of them. Cassandra’s extremely concerning, ever growing bond between her and YN.

Because one of them loved to light things on fire, the other could do it with her body.

He didn’t know what was bugging him the most because everything was bugging him. All of it at the same time.

So he spilled.

Everything.

Anything he could think of came tumbling out of his mouth, crashing into the still air of Roy’s kitchen.

The more Jason spoke, the more Roy understood why he wanted to drink tonight. He couldn’t trust himself to tell it sober, so he was forcing his own hand. Talking everything out, speaking it out loud. Forcing himself to come to terms with his situation.

So Roy let him keep talking, and kept pouring drinks.

“And I don’t even blame Bruce anymore, that’s the fucked up thing about this.” Jason spat, infuriated by his torn apart mind. All the narratives he had listened to and choices he made, a toxic concoction of confusion. “I want to be angry at him, at all of them. But they make it so hard to stay angry.”

The redhead hummed in sympathy, a soft grunt escaping him when he shuffled to sit beside the rambling drunk in his kitchen. He settled in, back pressed to the cabinet, shoulder pressed to shoulder. Their extended legs nearly touching, Roy’s wiggling, shoeless foot tapped rhythmically against Jason’s boot mindlessly.

“And YN scares me. I don’t admit it to her, but she scares me. She’s powerful, and she can control the abilities but she can’t control herself.” He slammed his fist into his knee, pounding it like a gavel. Declaring his judgement over this enigma of his mind. “But it’s not even her abilities— it’s her. She is this… giant, fucking problem. It was one after the other and, granted I may have caused a few of those problems, but it’s just… it’s like trouble knows how to find her. She’s a divining rod. And she always lets it get to her. And dammit, she drives me insane; With her— with her, cocky arrogance and her absolute need to be right all the time. And this childlike sense of right and wrong, it’s like she’s not even empathizing.”

“Oh, shit.” Roy tilted, nearly falling over as he grabbed for the runaway cap.

He let it roll across the room— he didn’t need it anyway, the bottle was empty.

“And what’s worse: Dick is on her tail. He’s dogging her about being this hero and saving the world, when she doesn’t even conceptualice being her. She’s never lived.” Jason exhaled, tongue running along the inside of his teeth. His palms lay flat on his kneecaps, wiping sweat onto the fabric of his pants. “And that’s wrong. It’s not fair; To pull her from one fight to the next.”

He released an exasperated breath, marking the end of his tirade.

His chest didn’t feel as tight, he supposed that was some relief. He didn’t feel as constricted, as trapped. That had been the original purpose of the whole night.

But now he was hijacked. His mind replaying the moment. The moment he decided to let his body take control, instead of his mind.

And the first thing it did was press itself to her. Cradled her closely, as if it was possible of softness.

How long had this been going unnoticed— unsupervised? How long had he been suppressing his body’s thoughts, his heart’s thoughts? All in favor of keeping everything under his mind’s control.

In favor of keeping his control.

“I think….” Jason paused, his thoughts muddy. All he knew, for certain, was the feelings that pooled in his chest. Right beneath his sternum, sloshing against his heart. “Roy, I think I love her.”

The red head hiccuped, his brow furrowing.

“Who?” He asked, head tilting against the cabinet to look at his friend.

He squinted, zoning in on a single Jason— because he was seeing multiple.

Jason ignored his drunken stupor, and kept going. Unable to stop himself from regurgitating all the thoughts and feeling he had kept pinned, like a moth to a cork board.

All of it piling on top of each other for weeks— months.

Every time he thought back to a moment in time with YN, he could feel every tilt in the relationship. Pushing it toward the present.

God, he had been so blind.

“For these past few weeks it’s been like this weird… tingle in my chest and my palms get all sweaty. And I thought it was a heart attack or something,” Jason admitted, voice thick with Gothamite drawl.

“My grandpa had a stroke once.”

Jason buried his head in his hands, pressing the backs onto his knees.

“God, what am I supposed to do?” He moaned, voice muffled by his own legs.

Roy grunted, pushing himself onto his knees and flopping directly in front of Jason. He put his hands on his friend’s shoulders and pushed him back, where he could see his face.

“Tell you what we’re gonna do,” Roy slurred, his eyes glassy. “We are getting in your car and going to BurgerBats and getting those shitty little kids meals.”

Jason blinked, heavily.

Had they even been having the same conversation?

Even though, he couldn’t deny that his stomach felt empty. His chest felt full enough for his whole body— bursting at the seams. Waiting for him to explode.

“First, we can’t drive.” Jason reasoned. Roy hummed, disappointedly.

“You’re right, I never even passed my drivers test.” Roy grouched, hands falling from Jason’s shoulders. He settled in at his feet, sliding off his knees and onto his ass.

“Second, it’s BatBurger, you dumb idiot.” Jason scolded, leaning back into the cabinet. Lips pouted, he had already started sulking.

“Hell, what do I know?” Roy exhaled, leaning against Jason’s knees. They sat together in the silence, a comforting, drunken silence, steeped in camaraderie. Roy blinked, his brain reeling to catch up from minutes of words being spoken at him. “You love her?”

The quiet of the kitchen wasn’t oppressive or even passive.

More contemplative.

More troubled. Confounded; They sat, stewing in Jason’s contempt. The faintest taste of happiness in his mouth, on his tongue.

“At the very least.” He confirmed. He exhaled shakily. “I kissed her, Roy. I didn’t even think about it. I was just so relieved to see her alive that I… I just went for it.”

Roy propped his chin on top of Jason’s knees, peering up at him through his lashes.

Jason wasn’t the Casanova of the family— by any means. He didn’t kiss anyone, barely even acknowledged someone’s presence.

There had always been too much on his mind for it to think of women. Well, his exception of Wonder Woman, but that was more of a childhood fascination than anything.

“She burn you or somethin?” He asked, peeking at his forearms in search of any markings.

Jason shook his head, his eyelids drooping lower. He had nearly exhausted himself, and the hard, cool tile of Roy’s kitchen was becoming increasingly appealing.

“She’s warm. Really, really warm. It felt like kissing one of Alfred’s cookies when they’re fresh.” He divulged. His hands held out in front of him, palms caressing her invisible body between them.

“Damn.” Roy slumped more weight against Jason’s legs. He cast a side eye glance to his friend. “D’you make out with cookies when we aren’t watching?”

Jason sighed, cracking one eye open.

“I wish I could kill you.” He teased.

Roy grinned, a doped up, full teeth smile.

“That’s suicide, Jaybird.” He warned. Jason’s brow crinkled in confusion. Roy only shrugged.

Jason pressed his palm to Roy’s forehead and pushed backward, sending him flat on his back.

It was silent for a moment before the redhead burst out into a barrage of giggles, his hands falling to rest on his shaking belly. Face turning various shades of red as he ran out of air.

Jason tilted his head back again, a smile pulling his own lips back.

[stardust948]

 ~*~ 

“Guardian?”

“The dude who gave you the Black Cat Miraculous! Did you seriously thing that magically showed up in your bag?!”

“Yes!”

Toph gave him an exasperated look.

“You are a tiny spirit of fire and destruction who lives in my ring and turns me into a superhero when I feed you artificial sugar! Thinking the ring magically showed up is not that much of a stretch!!!”

“Ok, fair point.” Toph gave in. 

~*~

[eggl-rd]

best buddies

[epicfirestormer]

(holds all three in my hands) I just think they're neat

[cosmicwhoreo]

*realizes I haven't posted my silly blacaviar propaganda here* I must right this wrong now.

[gelifish33]

An Arrow at his Behest

Three different outfits, a compact bow hidden in an alcove, and a single arrow tucked into the seam of my tights. There’s been weeks of planning in order to get to where I am tonight. I can last a few more minutes.  Sweat drips down the back of my neck. There’s leaves in my braid. My shoulders tremble from the weight of the taut string in my hands.  I have one shot.  It’s meant for the lord of…

[cryptidbait]

Day 11: Fire and Ice

[aries-writingblog]

Enemy Fire: 27 (Epilogue)

Summary: There’s a new kid in town, and she’s got a city to usurp.

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Word Count: 7.0k

Warnings: language, mentions of therapy/trauma

AN: sorry this took me so long but we’re here!! The final part of Enemy Fire. I hope all of you enjoyed the ride. Thanks for reading❤️

Eighteen months later

Jason pressed his nose against her hair; His thumb stroked an even pace against her ribs. His other hand rested on his belly, fingers laced with hers.

Curled up beneath the moonlight, her skin was soft. Smooth against the rough pad of his fingertips. Her body warmed the sheets with a comforting heat, a familiar temperature that always burned steadily beside his own, cold body.

YN snuggled in closer, pressed against his chest. Her own fingertips traced indecipherable love letters on his skin. Carving out the words and burning them into his body.

Branding him with emotion— baring it on his chest for all to see.

Unabashed.

It had taken time— so much time— for him to accept the physical self the way she had.

His nudity. Their intimacy.

His past, a patchwork of various memories, various periods of his life. Scars and ripped flesh, burns and various other mementos he had carried through the years.

Painful, darkened memories threaded each stitch.

It hadn’t disappeared overnight, his hatred and loathing glares. But with each kiss she pressed to the damaged parts of him, he felt his soul become a little lighter.

And that was all he needed, for now.

He risked movement for a chance to glance at her face. Serene, peaceful. Bathed in the moonlight flooding her bedroom. Her eyes closed, head resting against his heart.

Her cheek was pressed against his autopsy scar, and yet, he wasn’t bothered by it at all.

Jason felt boneless, all of his muscles fully relaxed into the mattress. Into her touch.

One of her many benefits, Yn’s presence brought safety. Warmth and security— a furnace beneath the sheets to keep the chill at bay.

He inhaled deeply, again. His arm squeezed tighter, squishing her against his side.

“Hey.” He called softly.

YN shifted, readjusting her head into the crook of his arm. She hummed in recognition of his words— he had her attention, though her eyes were closed.

This was the time to do it, if ever. Now was the opportune time to talk, without interruptions. Without either of them getting upset at the other. They were both far too exhausted to argue.

And he couldn’t wait another minute. He had put this conversation off for two weeks, backing out at the last minute every time he thought of bringing it up.

Not this time.

Jason steadied himself with a deep inhale. Exhale.

“You wanna move in together?”

The silence was stifling. Oppressive.

Yn’s stillness against him was now nerve wracking. Unsettling.

How fast the night changes… how the same circumstances could go from soothing to world ending.

“Do you?” YN asked, keeping her eyes forward. Her head unmoving, body stiff against his.

He could feel the tension, the unease leeching into his own muscles. The more he spoke, the worse it would be, but he had to do something. Besides sit in this mess.

“I mean… we practically live here now. Together.” He spoke quietly, bashfully.

“Jason.” She exhaled his name sharply. She rolled over to her back, still settled against his body. His steadily increasing heart rate, pressed to her cheek. “We’ve been through this before. We tried the relationship thing and it didn’t work out.”

He sighed, exhaling through his nose at her opposition.

She had a point; They had tried the couple thing, around seven months prior. They had been friends with benefits for months, how much different could an actual relationship be?

As it turned out, very different.

Neither could fully commit to the deal. It had lead to arguments and fights. Most of them ending in one of them sleeping on the couch, or leaving the apartment entirely.

It would end in days of not talking, not seeing each other. There were several times Jason was sure she was dead— he would go on patrol at night, and keep an eye out. Certain that he would find her somewhere, and his last words to her were something awful.

In the end, they backed away from each other. Taking a break. Isolation lasted two months before their beneficial relationship started back up.

Getting caught back in the orbit. Unable to stop revolving around the other.

Things had been better, since the break. They didn’t run anymore. If there was a problem, they faced it head on. No matter how excruciating it was to dredge out feelings and thoughts.

The fights had been minimal.

Jason was happy again. And if Yn’s smile had anything to say, he knew she was too.

She didn’t want to obliterate either’s source of the joy. To her, the risk wasn’t worth the reward. But to Jason— he would’ve risked it all to keep her close.

“It’s working now.” He protested, softly.

YN pushed herself up onto her elbow, hovering over him. His eyes were bright, practically glowing in the dim light of the bedroom. His cheeks glinted— tear tracks still drying.

Her hand broke away from his grasp, coming to rest against his cheek. He nuzzled into her palm, allowing her thumb to wipe at his tears. She trailed down from the apples of his cheeks, brushing lightly over the scar that stretched out from his lip.

His breath hitched, eyes vulnerable. Staring up at her as if she was the only person in the world.

It was enough to make her heart ache. Her chest feel too heavy.

“Is it?” She asked.

Jason’s heart throbbed. She wasn’t asking because she knew it wasn’t working; She was asking to make him think twice. As if he hadn’t thought about it until his brain melted.

YN was only being logical.

He understood her need to protect against his antics. Their first relationship failed, and their recent one was purely physical (from the outside).

But he knew better. He could feel it.

This was the perfect time. Before, it had been rushed and overly dependent.

But now… now was perfect. He just had to convince her to try again.

“Of course it is.” He insisted. His fingertips brushed over her hip, coasting along the crest of the bone. Attempting to distract her from overthinking. “We come home to each other, make meals together, share everything—“

“Argue, throw things, you leave the toilet seat up—“

“I’m working on that.” He injected.

YN chuckled, the tension beginning to splinter off.

She wasn’t surprised at his offer; Initially, yes, but she could’ve seen this move coming from a mile away.

His progress had been astounding. His mild aversion to touch was nearly desolate, most of his anger was gone. He hadn’t relapsed in weeks. The drifting depression had all but vanished.

He was talking things through, instead of keeping them in or finding ways around the problem.

All that progress would be heaved backward, if their breakup happened again. And it would be her fault. She didn’t know if either of them could bare that weight.

“I don’t want to break your heart again.” She whispered. Keeping her voice low, trying to salvage the atmosphere.

He sighed, hands stalling to rest in the crease of her thigh. The room fell silent— the world along with it.

All waiting, holding a breath.

Listening closely.

“I want to call you mine.” Jason finally exhaled, his admission quiet and soft.

More than anything, he wanted to call her his own. His girl, his love. His everything.

He wanted to hold her hand, he wanted to snap at guys who brushed a little too close.

He wanted her to leave marks on his neck and lipstick on his cheek.

Jason wanted to be obliterated and pieced together again. He wanted all of her to meet all of him. To smash into each other like meteors, leaving behind the beginnings of a new world.

YN edged closer, fingertips brushing dark curls out of his eyes. The silvery, white chunk blended in the other strands. Her pointer finger gently touched a freckle, sitting on his temple, near his eyebrow.

She hoped he knew what he was doing. What they were getting into.

But she couldn’t even lie to herself and say his words didn’t spark a fire in her belly. Warming her chest with emotion she hadn’t felt with anyone else.

“Then do it.” YN murmured. His gaze traveled from her lips, to her eyes. A sincerity in the hues that he had been seeing more often than not, nowadays. “Because I’m yours Jason Todd. Completely, irrevocably, yours.”

An uncontrolled grin broke over his face; He sprang up, tackling her to the mattress.

YN squealed, falling back. Jason hugged around her midsection, pressing kisses to her face.

She squirmed back, her head falling off the side. A sharp cry of surprise left her lips. Jason secured his hands around her waist. YN suppressed her laughter, enough to threaten him.

“If you knock me off this bed, I swear Jason—“

“Then I’ll join you and we’ll fuck on the floor.” He shrugged, tugging her back onto the mattress. Her thighs draped about his waist, his torso towered over her.

Yn’s face flushed, both hands coming up to cover her face bashfully.

“Good god.” She grumbled, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes.

Jason hummed, hands running along the outside of her thighs. Up to rest against her ribs.

“Right here, sugar.”

YN grunted, another flare of her flames bursting as she changed directions. The wind sliced through her padded uniform, but with how much she had been moving through the night, it didn’t affect her much.

“Incoming on your right, Tailspin.” Oracle’s voice informed through her ear piece.

YN growled, spinning in the air. Sure enough, a grunt worker was barging in, throwing a hand up to catch her ankle as she passed him. Turning her flames onto him, he ducked to dodge, right as she dropped to her feet.

“God, I wish you people would drop that shit.” She sent a roundhouse kick to the man’s temple. He crumpled into a heap on the ground, without so much as a noise.

“No way. You get branded in this family and you keep it forever.” Barbara teased.

YN swung around, throwing a knife into the kneecap of another approaching man.

“I’m beginning to see that.”

She reached for another knife, to incapacitate his second kneecap, only to be interrupted by a screech of pain.

A batarang lodged itself three inches deep in the man’s thigh. Sending him sobbing to the ground.

YN turned around, lifting her eyes to the rooftops. A shadowy figure stood, the moonlight against his back. Little bat ears depicting who had lent her aid.

Giving a two finger salute, YN turned back to her previous endeavor. Finishing up her work quickly.

Once she had all thirteen guys bound and gagged, she snatched one of their phones. Dialing 911 and leaving it at their feet.

She took off to the sky again, blazing trails propelling her higher.

Jason really needed to look into night guards on his properties. These raids had been more frequent, ever since she herself had conducted one against him. It had been partially her fault— she inspired all these idiots to attempt what she had— so she offered to help him clean it up.

He agreed it was her fault and took her up on the offer.

She couldn’t win them all with seduction, she supposed. There were only so many times she could press herself against him to distract, before he became wise.

Landing on the rooftop, her boots were quiet as she sidled up to the masked vigilante.

“You’re getting powerful.” Batman muttered.

She hummed— wondering how long he had been watching.

“I’ve always been powerful— now I’ve got it under control.” YN shook her hand out, her wrist stiff and sore. Barbara added the wrist braces to her uniform a couple weeks ago, to prevent any strain. “Been practicing.”

He hummed. Bruce knew how hard she had been working, lately. Gaining power over her abilities. Of course she had always had a respectable amount of control of her abilities, but her self control had needed adjusting.

Although she didn’t work with Batman, she was adjacent. The same way Red Hood was. And so she worked in the same manner: if there was a dead body, Bruce didn’t know.

She was appreciative of his work— how he operated and his No Kill policy. She admired his strength. His discipline.

But YN wasn’t Bruce. No matter how many times she tried to give her targets the benefit of doubt, her mind circled back again and again to the relief she felt after Adrian was gone.

She had the ability to give others that safety. That power.

So his path of forgiveness would have to wait. If it would ever come around, at all.

And Bruce was leaving well enough alone. YN wasn’t on a rampage, he knew her heart was in the right place, even if her methods were unsavory.

It wasn’t like any of the rest of his crew were better than she was, at times.

She had no true alliances, besides Red Hood. Tailspin only helped Batman on rare occasions she couldn’t find anything else to get into. Or if she needed information. Even then, she mainly asked as YN, not her night stalking alter.

Bruce didn’t hold her against it. Once she finished her parol, she was off the hook. Of course, her anonymity had been destroyed, as well as the public’s view of her. She didn’t care.

She didn’t do her work for the fame or notoriety. She did it to be better. And that was something Bruce could stand behind.

Though, the media was having a field day with the fact that she and Jason Todd Wayne were ‘dating’. But the two proved elusive and could rarely be spotted together in public.

Thinking of two troublemakers…

“You two are coming to our holiday, right?” He asked, shifting his attention away from the streets of Gotham to the woman standing beside him.

She was fiddling with her uniform— clearly unhappy with how it currently misbehaved.

“I’ll talk to him.” YN grumbled, readjusting the holster straps across her thighs.

Not only had Barbara added braces, but upgraded holsters and they hadn’t cooperated even for one moment. The buckles had gotten tangled in the straps earlier, twisted around.

And now, they were caught in her cargo pants.

Awesome.

“How’s he been?” Bruce asked.

Finally untangling the buckles, YN straightened, her gaze turning to the city. Lips pressed together, brow furrowed.

Just because Jason had started talking with his family again, didn’t mean he was getting along with them all the time. It didn’t mean all the conversations were bright or sunny, either.

While his personal progress has been exponential, his familial progress was slow, to say the least. After he moved back out of the Manor, with YN in tow behind him, he had trouble sleeping. Even after days of pushing himself to his limits, he would lie awake at night.

Sometimes, YN would catch him staring off into space. Mouthing words to a conversation she wasn’t privy to. It had been unsettling the first few times, but now it was disconcerting.

Jason never shared what those were about, and frankly, she didn’t think she needed to know.

Some things were better kept as a secret.

“Getting better. His therapist is good— she’s not letting him slip.” YN divulged, giving the vaguest descriptions she could.

Sure, he did share some details with her but most were kept under confidential, HIPAA lock and key. Sentences muttered only to his therapist and they never left the office.

But even the few things he did manage to share with her, YN wasn’t going to go around telling his whole family.

Those words were also confidential. Stuck between the two of them, in the melting ice cream they shared before bed.

Bruce seemed to understand. He nodded, leveling his gaze out to the city as well.

“Good. He needs a strong hand.” He commented easily.

YN snorted.

“He needs several.” She teased. Bruce hummed, amused. She cast a sidelong glance to the vigilante at her side. “Your hand is always gonna be included in that, by the way.”

He didn’t show it, but his brain instantly dropped service. Unable to focus on anything other than her words— the words that made his heart slam against his chest.

“So, you don’t see me as a nuisance anymore?” He asked, attempting to feign nonchalance. Tamping his excitement down as far as he could, to prevent showing his hand to her.

YN hummed, fingertips brushing back and forth over the handle of a knife. Strapped to her hip.

“You’re still a nuisance. But you’re his dad, he’ll always need you.” YN admitted. She could practically feel the excitement, radiating from his being. “And Alfred.”

“And you? How’s your therapy been?”

“Rough. But worth it.” She confided, weakly.

She hadn’t been the most receptive to her therapy; She hadn’t wanted to go at all. Her monster was dead, and she killed him. She disbanded his lingering mob in New York, and Jersey. Sold all his properties and stocks.

Jason still convinced her to go. She despised him for it, wouldn’t talk to him for days following the appointments. They were mountainous and dark, some things didn’t make sense and others she refused completely.

But it was slowly getting better.

YN couldn’t shake the anxiety therapy gave her. She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Several shoes, actually.

Yn’s phone buzzed against her thigh, where it sat in her zipped pocket. Fishing it out, she acknowledged Jason’s name and the picture of him in the kitchen. No shirt, just boxers and an apron covering his chest as he cooked breakfast. Early morning light streaming into the room.

One of her favorite candids.

One of her favorite memories. No matter how many times he tried erasing it.

Pressing answer, YN stepped off a few paces. One finger signaling to Bruce.

“Hello?” She resisted the urge to immediately ask what was wrong. Jason rarely called, much less while either of them were on patrol.

Tamping down the rush of anxiety, she waited for him to speak to her.

“Hey, you still out?” His voice was slightly tinny over the device, muffled.

But she could hear the thud of his boots dropping to the ground. He must’ve had her on speaker.

“Yeah. We’re on the last leg, now. I’ll be an hour, at most.” She answered. Jason grunted, knees pressed to his chest— tongue poked out slightly as he tugged his shoes on.

“Kay, I’m headed out for the day, leaving the window unlocked.”

YN gave a quiet ‘okay’. He usually left his window unlocked for her. At first it was a trick to get her into his apartment, complaining he couldn’t keep leaving it unlocked in hopes she was in the mood that night. Now, it was more of a routine.

Glancing back over her shoulder to the Bat, YN bit her lip. Now wasn’t the time to discuss the holiday gathering. Or why he hadn’t told her about it.

“Don’t forget—“

“I haven’t.” Jason assured her. Tonight was the night they agreed to sit down and talk through the mechanics of actually moving forward. It was a dinner date at a fancy restaurant. Her first fancy meal, since arriving in Gotham. Besides Alfred’s cooking, of course. “Geez, you treat me like a child.”

“You act like a child.”

“You act like a bitch.”

YN barked out a laugh, actually amused by his insults. Jason smiled to himself, as well.

“Be safe.” She advised.

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see.

“Got it.” Jason confirmed, listening as the call ended. He tied off his lace, getting to his feet and snatching his phone. Shoving it into his pocket before he was on his way out of the door.

YN stared at the screen for a moment before tucking it safely into its pocket. She turned back to Bruce, zipping the pocket.

“Let’s wrap this up, pretty boy.” She grumbled, stepping up to the ledge. They had one last area to scan before they could finish. “My guy is starting to get nervous.”

Bright fluorescent lights bounced against the laminate flooring. Children screeched and the chatter of a crowded grocery store was beginning to cause Damian a headache.

He wasn’t the only one of the group that the impromptu venture was distressing. Drake seemed to be bored out of his mind, Duke was half insane with anxiety over the crowds and his list.

Grayson seemed to have elevator music playing on repeat in his mind.

“This sucks.” Tim groaned, head tilting back. He stared at the ceiling for thirty seconds. “I hate shopping with you people.”

“I’m just trying to get the right gifts, alright? It’ll only take a second.” Dick grunted, phone in hand as he searched the shelves before him.

“No it won’t, you’re so indecisive you make everything difficult.” Damian argued. He didn’t even want to go to the store, so close to a holiday. People, who had the same meager thought processes as Dick, packed the shopping centers with fervor.

Scrambling to finish their lists and prepare for last minute get togethers.

Crowds was not where he wanted to be at any time, but his father insisted he go.

It was suspicious, but he knew it was because of the childish games his father wanted to surprise everyone with. For the entire month of December, he had been hiding a strange elf creature around the manor and the first to find it won a prize.

Damian had refused to participate, even when the elf was blatantly left in places where he would find it first. He simply picked it up and relocated it for someone else to find.

Much to Bruce’s chagrin, he would not be participating in any sort of childish events during the holidays. He wouldn’t even attend the dinner, had it not been in his own home.

Tim, however, had a million other things he would’ve rather done. Instead of grocery shopping and babysitting.

Somehow, it wasn’t fair that he was sent out with his idiot siblings, while the girls got to decorate the Manor. And no one even knew where YN was— which was concerning, but when asked, she told him to mind his own business.

“It’s not my fault you waited until Mary was giving birth to start holiday shopping.” Tim grouched, shooting off another text to Kon, then beginning a new text to send to his newest interest.

“Remind me why you insisted everyone join us? We couldn’t have come by ourselves?” Duke asked, checking another item from Alfred’s list.

He had been sent to ensure the group would actually shop and be back to the Manor at an appropriate time. Ever since he had seen Alfred brandishing a sawed off shotgun at an intruder, he had been slightly terrified of the butler.

And if Alfred have him specific instructions on shopping and deadlines, by god Duke was gonna get it done. He wasn’t gonna let any of the very distracting bat kids fool him, either.

“I need several opinions.” Dick explained, scrolling through the app on his phone. Searching for the perfect gifts, he had neglected to get before hand.

“The voices in your head don’t give you enough?”

Dick scowled, unsure of which boy the muttering came from. To solve that issue, he simply tugged on both of their ears.

“Cut it out!” Damian slapped at his hands, shoving away from the larger man.

“You’ve got maybe five minutes before I go rogue, like Jason.” Tim jutted a thumb over his shoulder.

Dick frowned, turning back around. Sure enough, they were missing a member of the group.

“Jason?” He asked, eyes searching out the tallest brother. He hadn’t even noticed when he snuck away. “When did he—“

“Dammit!” Duke cried, nearly panicked. “I told you all to stay close, I don’t want to hunt any of you down and we have to be back by eleven! If he makes us late—“

“I’ll find him.” Dick promised, quickly slipping away and scurrying across the crowded store.

Duke cursed again, dread filling his stomach. Tim sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“I’ll follow him.” He trudged off in the direction of his escaped brothers.

“And I’ll follow him.” Damian promised. He didn’t want to be here any longer than he had to be. Knowing the trio of older brothers he had, they would be sure to get distracted.

Duke exhaled. Regaining his calm. It was a shame that he relied on the word of a young teenager more than his friend and a fully grown man, but, so was the way of the bat family.

At least he could move faster without the group weighing him down.

A broad shouldered, six foot something man stood in the middle of the showroom. Hands in his pockets, staring at a glass case.

Sidling up beside his brother, Dick’s eyes fell to the display case. Glittering gems embedded in sterling silver and gold, all shining brightly.

Waiting for a lucky someone to choose the perfect cut, perfect design.

To give to their special someone.

Dick’s heart leapt in stark realization. A rush of euphoria grappling hold over his mind.

He choked it down— playing cool. Jason would never share anything if he got too excited. Which really sucked sometimes; Because Dick wanted nothing more than to show his brother how excited he was that he found YN.

“You thinking about it?” Dick asked, casually. Hands tucked into his pockets.

Jason snorted, his eyes set on a certain piece near the back.

“Hell no.” He answered.

Lies.

Jason had thought about it. Before they broke up. He had thought that, maybe if he proposed to her, maybe if he showed her he was serious, then she would accept. They could leave behind some of their issues.

But now, Jason was glad he didn’t do it. It would’ve ruined everything. For good.

He didn’t even know if YN wanted to get married. Ever. They had been so busy arguing and living in the moment, back then. They had rarely talked of the future.

“Seriously? You two have been together forever.” Dick grumbled.

Jason scoffed, turning away from the display cases.

“One year is not forever.” He argued. Dick rolled his eyes, mocking his words.

Jason’s hands were instantly out of his pockets, and reaching for his brother’s shirt. A scowl on his face.

“I’ll put you through a window.” Jason growled, eyes baring down into Dick’s.

Dick put his hands on Jason’s wrists, staring him down. Almost daring him.

Luckily, intervention occurred before Jason could escalate his threats. It came in the form of Timothy Drake, sauntering up to the pair. Damian trailed after him— his face burning at the pair of grown men, threatening each other in public.

“They aren’t even a couple— it’s a ‘situationship’.” Tim announced, making finger quotes around the word.

Jason’s face flared with heat, making the hoodie he was wearing practically unbearable.

‘Situationship’ was even worse than Dick’s implications.

Situationship implied that one of them wasn’t even remotely interested in the other, past the physical. And Jason knew better. Because YN wasn’t that person. He knew she wasn’t that person.

“For your information, asshole, we’re…” He paused. Catching himself before he let his heart spill through the cracks. “We don’t have labels.”

“So you’re together?” Dick prodded.

Jason pressed his lips together, firmly.

They weren’t ‘girlfriend and boyfriend’, they agreed to talk it out. Give a relationship another go. Besides, those titles felt juvenile and stiff. YN wasn’t some girl. She was part of him, as narcissistic as it sounded.

He felt dizzy by the line of questioning; Unsure of things.

But that was fine, right? They were still talking things out and everything would get better after some time.

Then again, it had been three weeks since their conversation. And still, he was unsure about titles, of all things.

“I don’t like this conversation.” Jason stated, shoving his hands into his pockets. Not quite uncomfortable, but definitely uneasy.

“Neither do I. Can we move away from Todd’s extracurriculares?” Damian complained, flicking a predatory glare at two younger children who stepped too close.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late.” Duke pushed through the group, having completed his own gathering tasks.

Luckily, he found them before Damian could guide the group back toward him. He corralled the gaggle of them forward, making another head count to ensure everyone was present.

He stopped the cart in one of the checkout lines, going down his list again to triple check. Then he did another head count. Everything was in order.

“Oh my god!” Dick swooped forward, his tone incredulous. Jaw dropped open, eyes glued to the magazine in his hands. “Look at that angle! I look horrible!”

Jason frowned, snatching the copy. The title was in bold, yellow ink.

‘Nightwing: Friend or Menace? Bludhaven’s Saucy Night Crawler Bribing the Police?’

Dick’s alter ego was plastered on the front page, mid swing.

“They’re framing you for bribery.” Jason pointed out.

“I know,” Dick pouted. But still, his eyes remained on the magazine cover. “They could’ve at least gotten my good side.”

Jason rolled his eyes, shoving the tabloid back into its place. His goal of moving on from the aisle was blocked by Dick’s body.

He grumbled under his breath, nudging the man’s shoulder to move. Dick slapped his hand away, quickly picking up the magazine copy.

Jason scowled.

“Why are you buying that? You’re just giving them reason to make more of those bogus claims.” He challenged. Dick crammed the copy beneath his other items.

“It’s my face, I can make whatever bogus claims I want.” He muttered.

Dick was half tempted to buy out the store’s entire stock; And he would’ve— if it wasn’t suspicious. Besides, he needed to keep an eye out for Nightwing, anyways. If anything happened to be a little too close to accurate in the article, he would be in trouble.

Because unlike Jason, who’s cover story was that he was legally dead, Dick had to watch his footing in the press. Both as a Wayne, and a vigilante.

“You’re impossible.” Jason determined, stalking after the group of degenerates he called family. Duke nearly called out in anger, before Jason held up the car keys.

Damian quickly followed, eager to escape the grasp of public shopping in the holiday season.

The Manor was loud.

Louder than normal, anyways.

YN closed the door after herself, and followed the sound.

One of the sitting rooms had Just Dance still on the television screen, the characters moving endlessly on a waiting screen.

Various jackets had been discarded on the couches. Shoes kicked off at the door. Pillows seemingly launched at the participants, from what she could see from their new positions on the ground.

Jason had told her that morning that the whole family was going to be at the manor, all day. If she wanted to join. As interesting and tempting as the proposal was, YN declined.

She found a lead on a case— that she hadn’t shared with him, yet, in fear that he would shut her down. Claiming she was chasing ghosts.

She told him she was going to run a few errands before meeting up with them later. Most of it was truthful.

She did run errands.

And then she hunted down her lead. Which was technically an errand.

Either way, it was near sundown.

And there was a slight ache, to know she missed out on some of the festivities and fun. She could dismiss it, knowing that her nose was always right.

She just had to figure out how to tell Jason about the weapons being smuggled into Gotham, without him scolding her for going off alone again.

But for now, she would settle for just being near him. Wondering how many rooms she had to search in the Manor to find him.

She didn’t search much longer, though. To her delight, she found him in the kitchen. He was finishing up with a pie, brushing egg yolk over an unbaked crust. Flour stained the red apron wrapped around his waist, and he seemed to have a little more white in his hair than usual.

Taking advantage of his obliviousness, YN snatched a hand towel from the counter. She waited until he straightened, finished with his task, and then whipped the edge at his ass.

Jason nearly leapt out of his skin, his knees colliding with the cabinet doors, noisily. Egg yolk sloshing dangerously in its mixing cup.

He spun around, scowling. YN stood innocently, twirling the rag with a grin on her lips.

“The hell is wrong with you?” He demanded, gruffly.

“I waited until you were finished.” She argued.

“Gee, thanks. Really takes the sting outta my ass.” He slid his tools back to the counter and carefully moved his pie to a sheet pan.

“You couldn’t feel it through your pants.”

“You don’t know what I can feel through these pants.”

Jason slid the pan into the oven. Turning back to face her, he untied his apron and draped it on the island counter.

Reaching out, he snagged her around the waist. Sunlight fell in strips around the kitchen. The sunset glowing fiery red and orange, leaving his skin tinted with warmth. His eyes held a sparkle she hadn’t seen in a while.

His fingertips pressed into her back, urging her closer. Leaning into her, he went in for a kiss. Only for her to pull her head back and to the left.

He frowned, leaning back to look at her.

“First time I’ve seen you all day and I can’t even get a kiss?” Jason complained, brows furrowed.

“No.” YN replied, her hands falling to his sweater.

Her fingers twisted the fabric into her fists, and she pulled him in. Jason couldn’t stop the smirk on his lips as they collided.

He was never one for public displays but… God, she made him feel powerful. Like he held everything right there, in his hand. Every touch left him breathless.

He didn’t even care his family was in the next room, quite possibly listening in.

She pulled away, eyes glittering in the manor’s lighting.

“You suck.” He croaked, the dopey grin on his face showing his true hand.

YN hummed, pecking a second kiss to his nose.

“I know.” She patted his chest twice, then backed away. Fingertips dragging along his shoulder as she treaded toward the dining room.

Jason stared after her for a minute, at least.

He wasn’t even aware his feet had been moving him, until he bumped into a dining chair. His face flushed red, at the scraping noise it made against the hardwood floor. His hands darted out to fix the askew furniture.

YN suppressed a grin, sinking her canines into her lip.

Jason cleared his throat. He pulled the chair back further, nodding for YN to sit. Attempting to play off his fumble.

She sat, without opposition, and let him push the chair in to the table. He selected the chair beside hers, closest to the exit. Shielding her body.

Stephanie cooed, her hand pressed to her chest. Right above her heart.

“You two are disgusting.” She complained, cheerily. She yanked a chair out, flopping into it ungracefully. As Alfred began to transfer dishes from his cart, to the table, Steph waved a hand to him. “No need to set a room for me, Alfred, I’ll be sleeping on the highway.”

“Very well, miss, would you also like your breakfast delivered?” He asked, leaning between Bruce and Damian to fill the table.

“No, just a tombstone.” She confirmed. She put both hands into the air, as if displaying a title of a show. “‘Here lies Stephanie Brown: Died of singularity.’”

Tim snorted, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Dramatic.” He decreed.

“I am not!”

YN nudged Tim’s ribs gently, rolling her eyes at Steph’s outlandish comedy. He returned the gesture, digging in a little deeper than she had, just because. With a hint of a grin on his lips.

While he hadn’t been her biggest fan when she first arrived, the two were mild acquaintances now. They mainly chatted during family events (when Jason told her about them) but they kept themselves entertained and out of trouble.

It had taken a few, hard looks in the mirror for both Tim and YN, to realize, they saw bits of themselves in each other. And maybe the reason they disapproved of each other was perhaps because, deep down, they disapproved of themselves, or whatever bullshit Dick spouted to get them in the same room together.

In the end, the two had teamed up against Dick and shamed him for many aspects of his life and choices; Which left him half irritated by their antics, and partially proud his plan worked.

Dick had not been discouraged by the pair; As he stood up at the dinner table, magazine in hand.

The pages slapped together as he tossed it to the table in front of Bruce.

Bruce, who had his spoon halfway to his mouth, peered up through his lashes at his son.

“Bruce, just take a look at that.” Dick demanded, crossing his arms.

He did as instructed, casting his gaze down to the issue before him. His son’s alter ego plastered across the front page, bold words surrounding his frame.

“Wow.” He commented, nodding at it. “You’ve been promoted to bribery.”

“The picture, Bruce. The picture.” Dick stressed, jabbing his finger into his own, printed face. He dragged it down, directing his complaint to the appropriate area. “My ass looks flat.”

Bruce frowned, scanning the rest of the magazine’s cover.

“That’s not the point of any of this.” He determined, pushing it back across to his bewildered son. “I’m not commenting on your rear end.”

Dick groaned, collapsing back into his seat with a flourish. Head lolling back in frustration.

“Oh come on! Anyone gonna comfort me?”

Duke cupped his hands around his mouth:

“Damn— look at that thick ass white boy!”

YN snickered, slicing through her pork loin skillfully. Dick ignored her, in favor of his pity compliment.

“Thanks, Duke. You’re the only one who’s ever cared.”

Bruce barked out a laugh, grinning down at his plate.

“I only took you in after a series of unfortunate events, and Alfred had to go along with it.” He shrugged, nonchalantly.

Alfred hummed in agreement, finishing up his duties before pushing his cart out of the room and down the hallway.

“I thought you hated these tabloids.” Barbara interrupted, grabbing the magazine to inspect for herself.

“I do. Your point?” Dick questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

Barbara sent him a suspicious glance but passed the magazine to Cass when she signaled for it. She made a face before tossing it to the floor, under the table.

Dick cried out in dramatic outrage.

‘Your ass is flat, let’s move on.’ She signed, picking up her utensils to resume eating.

It sent Dick into a tailspin. Raving about the respect he gets in the household, and just how many more brats are you gonna raise, Bruce?

All in good nature, Jason supposed.

He glanced to his side, where YN sat, eating quietly, simply observing the chaos.

“You good?” He whispered.

YN met his gaze, with a smile.

“Great.” She replied, her hand finding his thigh and her fingertips pressing into his skin. Squeezing gently.

She let her hand rest there for the remainder of the dinner; Jason was practically buzzed from the pressure of her touch. Even if it wasn’t skin on skin.

Alfred stood idly, preparing various mugs while Bruce attempted to garner the attention of his motley crew.

Everyone was gathered, post dinner, in the main living room. Damian was crashed on one of the couches, but still in the room. Bruce gave him credit for trying.

The rest of the group was mingling— tossing out various taunts and threats to each other as they prepared for the hunt.

Alfred passed Bruce a mug of hot chocolate, still steaming.

Once it was secured, Bruce whistled sharply. All eyes snapped to him, eagerly waiting.

“The elf has been hidden again and the search can begin….” Bruce paused, holding his breath. “Now!”

Jason immediately pressed his palm into Yn’s face and pushed her backward. She stumbled, arms flailing out to catch herself.

“Ow— hey!” She snapped, kicking at his shin. Jason shook her off and bolted ahead of her.

“There’s no way I’m letting you cheat again.” He shouted, over his shoulder.

YN scowled, righting herself against the wall.

“I didn’t even cheat that time!”

“Yeah, right.”

She growled, pushing off the wall— leaving a palm shaped scorch mark in her place— and took off after him.

Concern of winning the elf had now dwindled, in favor of strangling her partner.

“You son of a bitch— get back here!” YN’s voice boomed, echoing through the hallway as she chased him down. At a disadvantage against his head start sprint. “Say it to my face!”

Bruce barely even winced at the crashing sound, deeper in the manor, nor was he concerned of the mark on the wall. Both had become unnervingly common since he had adopted his children.

Alfred stood one step behind him, observing the quick patter of feet, all across the manor. The shrieking laughter and vicious taunts shared between the siblings and friends.

There were more distinct thuds, suspiciously akin to when YN hit the wall prior. More shouting followed. And it sounded like her voice.

“Those two may never grow up.” Alfred warned, staring down the hallway.

“Lord, no,” Bruce agreed, a little too hastily to be anything other than truth. “Though, I think we all appreciate Jason being a little less serious.”

“I’m rather proud to see them both act so childishly.” Alfred admitted. He wasn’t even the least bit annoyed when any of the children were childish (and there were moments when he was entitled to his emotions regarding the fact). But Jason had never been like the others. Always so guarded, even as a child. He never received a proper childhood. Now, he was getting one. At least, portions of one. “They’re good to each other.”

Bruce hummed, tilting the mug to mix his drink again.

“Cheers to that.”