#hi i wrote this at 1 am so forgive the chonky bits

[ikkosu]

ERWIN. FEM. READER

Erwin offers to take you the market. You don’t like him very much.

THE office was dimly lit. Interior largely of mahogany brown, the once glossy veneer now bores the stale dull of wood. Pitch black blotted the regions where the gentle glow of the lantern from your table wouldn't reach.

Everyone had clocked out for today. You offered to stay behind to clear out the register — sorting through the columns and columns of names with a hope that each and every one of the patients had been rightfully dosed of medication. While it helped to ease the workload for tomorrow, your determination had came at a price.

On your right, beyond the frost sheathed window was the swarth-en veil of the night. And, it was childish impulse that urged you halt scribbling on the paper, turn, blow, curl out a finger and drag careful lines about the cold glass. Eventually conjured was a simple smile that grinned back, expectant.

Uncertainty blossomed in your chest. But you figured a taut quirk of your lips would be enough — even if it was stiff and even if it was half hearted. After all, the night had fallen cold. Having just finish up the last few batches of report , you longed for the warm covers of your bed.

You pushed the chair back. Blew out the flickering lantern and slung the satchel over your shoulder, paving your way down the steps.The ingress, large wooden doors, was wide open and no more than a few steps later would you be free from this—

A call of your name halted your steps, coupled with succession of footsteps behind thatmade you freeze. You whirled around, greeted with a looming shadow that overhead blocks the flare of the chandelier above and three steps back is all it takes for you regard his face fully.

“Commander.” You greet. Not kindly.

The commander smiles. But it isn't just any smile. The look on his face is soft. Just as his eyes were. Crinkling blue in tandem of the curve over his whites. He is but gentle as he regards you, gentle like the smile you carved out with care on the window. A warm touch against the cold. And, yet...

Discreetly, you glance around. There is no one else in the room. He peered at the satchel you were clutching and points to it almost instinctively. "I see you are finished."

“That, I am. I cant help but ask. Is there something you need from me?”

If he had caught onto your sharp tone, he shows no visible reaction. Instead, he inclines his head, a hand dismissing the thought. "No, not of that sort. It's a lovely weather tonight and I was hoping I could accommodate you across the market. There's a festival not too far and I hear the town lights are beautiful at this time of the month."

You blinked, “How did you know I was going to the market?”

At this inquiry, Erwin turns away. " I was passing by when I overheard you chatting with the lance corporal. I deeply apologized if I made you feel—“

“It’s fine." You raise a hand. "I was only surprised you knew. Only to the market, right?"

He ponders for a moment. " We could stroll on for more?"

You nod. " Won't be too much of a harm, then. Let's go."

Despite conceding, you were hesitant. Conjuring a scandal by simply seen walking alongside the commander isn’t something you could bear. It happened several times. Many had thought you were his lover. Not that you didn't mind covering for his Commander's apparent non-existent love life there was also the fact that you wished to never associate with him at all outside work duties. But it isn't wise to turn him down as well. Not when your life depends on his hands. What keys he chose to glide it over. Strings to a puppet. Puppet bounded by string.

Speaking of puppet..

Erwin isn’t beside you. You halt and turn to find that he has his back to you, the tip of his ears red. He's hunched over as well — is he rubbing his face? Just what on earth is he doing? You narrow your eyes. “If you need to get something—“

Instantly, he turns back around, clearing his throat. His forehead is all but pinched red. “Lets not wait any longer." He says. " The night might turn colder."

"I...yes, that is..right." You nod slowly.

As he strides past you, gait stern and commanding of an officer as he, all you could think about was how strange he is. He’s a strange, strange man this commander. 

—

YOU try not to scoot away when he gets close. You also try not to flinch when his hand grazes against yours. Though, you did give him a look when he's close to holding your waist. But to be fair it was also a miscalculation, on your part. Too fixated on a stall, you tripped over your footing and it was all due to Erwin clutching your waist that the granite hadn't kissed your face yet. But the sudden proximity made you lock his eyes. He simply flushed at your look and kept his hands behind his back ever since. As though he'd be maimed the moment he twitched.

Irritation blossomed in your chest like vines curling up a ladder. Why is he acting this way? Childish. Awestruck. Often in the office, the most common expression he’s rooked on is a firm look that could melt ice and freeze hell over. Now, under the warm bustling lanterns of the festival, the past rolling fleets of vibrant mingling colors — his face is soft. One side of his cheek, the sharp contours is sheathed with bright orange while, where the shadow falls melts with the crinkle of his eyes and a shroud of a smile.

The visage of the window comes back. You push the thought away.

“A boy,” You mutter. Too bright. Much too bright.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

Erwin takes a step aside, cautious. "Did you find anything that you like?"

After a quick stroll round the markets, you had gotten the groceries you need. Mostly eggs and lettuce and a few chops of chicken. Now, you humored his request for a walk through the festivities.After all, the path is closer to your house, anyway which is why you conceded.

"I haven't been to a festival often. It's...new to me, to be honest."

" I see. Then I'm assuming you haven't tried these games, as well?" He gestured to the stalls.

You look, scanning the many sage tents propped up with decoration and vibrant commodities.

“Would you like to try?”

“The rifle range? I don’t think I’m adequate.”

You grimaced at the sight. Children and old seniors alike, giggling and cooing everytime a patron had made a perfect shot in the target. You were sure to humiliate him if ever you're to hold a gun.

Erwin only chuckled "Nonsense." And you flinched when his hands curled round your wrists, tugging you along. " Everyone has their own shortcomings. Learning a rifle isn't too bothersome, believe me."

Without much thought he grabs your hands and you try your hardest not to pull it away. 

—

THE man at the stall was not much taller than Erwin. He was quite built. Tanned, dark eyed and considerably not bad looking from behind his ivory draped table.

"How many rounds?" Was his polite inquiry, already propping up the station for play. Your companion pulled out a pouch— his wallet that he took out several sheets of money from.

"Just two."

You reached into your satchel, frantic. "Oh, no it's okay. I'll—"

"Two rounds." But the deal had already been docked. Money taken and stashed. You gave a betrayed look to the man who only laughed in reply.

"Have you played this before?" He loaded up the rifle with, what you're assuming, is false bullets. Plastic at most. Soft and easily reflective.

"She hasn't."

You fight the burn from your face. "I must admit remorsely...i'm not very well aquainted with...these festivities."

"Ah, you'll get to be. Don't worry. Just a few games and—" He snapped his fingers in good humor. " You'll be rooked in like a drug."

" I hope not. I wouldn't want to go through the laboring process of rehabilitation." You said dryly.

" Easier said than done, lady." Was his playful retort.

Erwin extends the rifle to you, "Ready?"

You take it reluctantly. "Quite."

After a few rounds it was increasingly clear you're not as intelligent as you would seem to be. Each play proved further that your inadequate stance, aim, position is, at most, profoundly low levelled — even, the wind at some point isn't in your favor.

Observing the target, the concentric circle consisted of three layers. You drilled all but the middle. And all but the target, even. Some bullets pelted the sage tent behind.

Erwin pats your shoulder. "No point giving up now when you have so much to lose, yes? Stay put. I will get us drinks.” 

And with that he left, disappearing amidst the flock of crowd. Now, you're here with the man who leant against the counter, regarding you with warm eyes.

"Help?"

"I'll humiliate you further if you don't." You said with a groan, lowering the muzzle. " I just can't hold it right."

He rounded the table and came behind.

" That's because you're too stiff, my lady. You should stand perpendicular to the target with your feet roughly shoulder width apart. May I?" You allowed him to cage you in. " Here, just keep your hold on it tight. ”

“Like this?” You curl your finger around the trigger. His curls over yours as well.

"Yes, like that." He echoed, "Now, aim."

You raise the muzzle in line with the target. Stance, aim, position and breathing in mind you pulled the trigger. And—

Your cheeks lift up in its own accord, carving out a bright smile from your lips. "The middle!"

"If you are then you might as well be the gods."

"Yes, the middle." He grinned as well, pointing at the chafe of a bullet in the circle. "I'm such a good savior aren't?"

His laugh rumbled through your body as he shifted behind you. "See? All it takes is—"

“Excuse me.”

The man stiffened and you both simultaneously turn to find Erwin standing at the parting of the tent with drinks and food on his arms.

The natural crinkle of his eyes and smile is now rigid under the lantern. Soft contours now donning a sharp shadow. The plastic cup in his hold is unnaturally taut, gripped firm. A kind of silence fell. You're not so sure what to say at this sudden change in disposition, but you kept quiet.

The smiley face on the window vaporized.

Erwin walks towards you. The man is already at arms length, three steps away and silent as Erwin grabs the rifle and drills in at least a perfect shot on each and every one on the target spanning across the ground.

"The prizes please.” He says politely, setting the rifle down.

The man bowed simply and left without a word.

Something simmered in your chest watching him waddled away— but it wasn’t annoyance. Something like guilt festers deep inside. But you’re not sure why you’re guilty at all when you haven’t done anything wrong yet.

When he’s done gathering the prizes, on top of all the food and drinks — seriously, how does he do that? He turns urns to you, "Shall we?”

You gathered the several box of prizes from him to ease the weight. “You can play more if you want,”

“But would it be alright if we went to a different stall?”

“I…” He wants to change stalls now? That’s….you thought he was having fun here. “Anything. It's alright, you can do whatever you want to do,”

He momentarily glances to the man. “Good.”

Good? Your confusion reeks further when his palm is on your back steering you away from the tent. Erwin twists his body, peering over your shoulder. To probably look at the target, no doubt. What could possibly fuel his sudden annoyance for the man?

That question is short-lived as the sight of food quells the confusion away.

—

WHEN Erwin bid you farewell that night he returned to his quarters immediately. It was almost a daze-like trance as he sauntered through his nightly routine. Changing into comfortable clothes, arms half-way plunging through a sleeve, his mind is consumed with the earlier escapade this evening, some lighting up a bright expression and some that drew a visible frown.

Either ways, he shook off the irritation and slumped on the bed, relished the warm cushions on his bed and wished, for a moment, that your face nuzzled the pillow beside him.

It was a memory engrained into his mind. Your face was warm under the vibrant lanterns. Almost soft, and pleasant like a summer's morning.

His face grew warm. Tip of the ears tinged pink. Erwin grabbed the pillow and plunged his face into it.

[stxleslyds]

LET’S TALK ABOUT BATMAN AND ROBIN #20 (2011).

And the issues that followed that story (Batman and Robin vol.2 #34-37)

DC and the fandom really let Bruce get away with what he did to Jason in that issue. DC because they had Jason go back to Bruce a few issues later to finish their story and the fandom because this moment in comics isn’t talked about enough which has led people to believe that the the concept of “batfamily” as it is in fandom belongs in canon.

This type of moments in stories should make a bigger impact on comic relationships and fandom’s perception of said relationships. From where I am standing Bruce’s actions in that issue are right on the edge of unforgivable and they could have used them as a key moment for Jason to finally move on from all Bat related bullshit without thinking that he had to stay and finish the job (of getting Damian back).

Making Jason move on so easily from that situation really makes it look like if Batman is physically, emotionally, or mentally abusive to his children then it’s not that much of a big deal, it’s just a subplot to a bigger story.

And that is something that happens repeatedly in current comics and it’s disgusting.

Anyway, now that I am done with my rambling, I will start talking about the issues that I mentioned.

Batman and Robin (2011) #20 – Written by Peter Tomasi.

For a little context, this issue is set after Damian’s death and Bruce is looking for ways to resurrect him.

And in this particular issue of this run, Batman recruits Jason Todd between the events of RHatO vol. 1 #18 and #19, that’s why in the cover of the issue the name of the run is changed to ‘Batman and Red Hood’.

A bit more context is that in issue #18 Jason finally recovers from the injuries that he got when the trap that Joker had put on his helmet detonated, and Jason was also having an existential crisis after the Joker convinced him that he was always present in Jason’s life and that he shaped the man that Jason had become (If you want to read more about that and the times' Joker has played with Jason’s mind, I have this post in which I talk all about that).

Good, now I can finally talk about this hellish issue.

Bruce asks for Jason’s help because he wants to take down some marksmen and women that are based in Ethiopia that might or might not have been the same people who took on the job of looking for Damian when his mother had put a bounty on his head.

One would imagine that Bruce calling Jason for this job means that he would let Jason kill some people, bounty-hunters that are money-driven enough to kill children seem to be the kind of people Jason would have in his black list, but Jason is smart and he knows that Batman won’t let him kill so he asks why is Bruce asking him of all people to join him on this mission, Batman replies with “Because I am seeing red”.

If you, like me, don’t understand why Batman would ask the Red Hood to stop him from killing some very shady people then don’t worry, Batman was lying, he didn’t ask Jason to go with him to beat some bounty-hunters, he has ulterior motives.

I will give it to Tomasi, he wrote Jason as the smart cookie that he is because Jason doesn’t stop picking up on the weird technicalities of the mission, and I will go as far as to say that Jason never truly believed that Bruce was being honest about the true nature of their mission. Smart Chonky, I miss you and love you.

Once they get to Ethiopia Bruce starts setting the rules of engagement (don’t shoot to kill, only hands, knees, and elbows), and off they go. Bruce even makes a comment about how it “feels like old times” and Jason is all happy and warm that Bruce invited him to beat some baddies and he also brings up the fact that Bruce stayed by his side while he was recovering from his injuries, very lovely stuff that will soon mean nothing (and that should have meant nothing because Bruce and his lies had resulted in Joker knowing all of their secret identities and messing with all of them in horrible ways, but the Bat can get away with that too).

Here is part of Bruce’s speech about trust and his lies, “You don’t ever need to thank me, Red Hood, for a family always looks out for each other” to which Jason says, “Yeah but a family also needs to earn each other’s trust” and Bruce continues his speech with, “comes a time when having to keep earning someone’s trust stops and you hope the people you’ve put your faith in will always have your back no matter what”.

Batman, everyone, master detective and master manipulator.

As Batman is talking manipulating Jason he beats every bounty hunter almost effortlessly because he had brought some bat-gadgets that were going to make the fight really easy. And as the fight is over in what looks like a minute Batman and Red Hood get on the Batmobile ready to leave Ethiopia… or not.

Jason is very aware that Batman didn’t need him for that so-called mission so he starts to ask more and more firmly about the real reason as to why Batman brought him to this place.

Batman brought Jason back to Ethiopia, but most importantly back to the Magdala Valley because he wants to see if Jason going back to the place where he died will make him remember how he was resurrected.

Yep, talk about having messed-up parents. Bruce is positively the worst at this moment, but it gets worse.

Jason is rightfully pissed off, he says, “You lied to me, this wasn’t about taking down those mercenaries. You wanted to bring me here, to the worst place in the world and here I was starting to believe all your crap about trust and faith...”

To which Bruce says, “I thought bringing you here could jog your memory, maybe retrieve a detail buried deep in your subconscious that could help piece together how you came back to life so I…”

And my man Jason really continues his thought process only to later tell him how much of a piece of shit he truly is (I love this Chonky, go Jason show this man that he ain’t shit).

“…could apply it to getting Damian back. Yeah, I get it. Did it ever occur to you I might like keeping whatever the hell happened to me buried deep? If you cared about me, you wouldn’t want me to dredge up the one thing I’ve been trying to forget. I don’t want to remember the most horrific day of my life all right? You may like wallowing in your tragedies, Bruce, but I’m done looking back!”

Jason, bravo, tell him exactly how you feel! Any sort of good human being would surely accept that they crossed a massive line and that they should ask for forgiveness next, right?... Right?

No. And that’s because Bruce is a horrible human being, I am sorry but it had to be said, this man has zero empathy for Jason and he proves it when he says the following.

“If you cared about me and what I’ve lost, you’d want to dredge this up! Don’t you see, there is a chance you can help me erase one of the worst days of MY life, Jason! You can give me the greatest gift of all and help me figure out how to bring my son back”

Fuck Bruce Wayne. This man has no right whatsoever to talk this way to Jason, no matter how you see this situation, the whole thing is fucked up. Bruce puts his needs above Jason’s feelings and he diminishes Jason’s position as his son because Bruce only refers to Damian as his son. This whole thing is incredibly nasty.

Here we should have had the point of no return for Jason and Bruce’s relationship, although if you are like me, you might think that the point of no return happened way back in Batman (1940) #650 when Bruce decided that saving the Joker by throwing a batarang at Jason’s neck (how did he know that Jason would survive that, I have no idea, maybe Bruce can see the future) was a better option compared to Jason finally killing the clown. Because that’s the thing, Jason was going to kill the clown but Bruce didn’t let him because he didn’t want more blood in Jason’s hands, I laugh until this day about how stupid Bruce’s thinking was there.

Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that Jason should have said bye-bye to Batman and all related Batman crap from this moment on. It would have been perfect but DC can’t help themselves and Lobdell’s self-insert-Jason really wants to be part of this amazing family so, no luck for Jason or us.

If you have read my latest post about Joker getting under Jason’s skin or read issue #18 of RHatO you know the context of what Jason says next.

“Yeah, and how about me? How about the gift of not knowing that the Joker manipulated my entire life, huh? The clown tainted everything, the good, the bad, hell my life’s even been tainted by you!”

Yup, Jason was going through it, and he had talked about these feelings with Bruce previously in issue #17 of RHatO, he had asked Bruce if he thought that Joker had created him and Bruce said, “No Jason, He didn’t make you, I never did either. You made you” and Jason was extremely thankful for that. And now, here we are, these feelings are being brought up again but in a very different situation.

Them arguing becomes a physical fight and after Jason asks Bruce “why are you making me stand in the exact same spot he beat me to death?” He replies this “Because I want to watch Damian grow up damn it! Damian earned that right! And I want to give it to him!”

This conversation only gets worse and Bruce’s most horrible side comes to light, like, I understand that Bruce wants Damian to be alive and all that but he is saying all the wrong stuff to Jason. I feel like as the reader I am being told that Bruce values Damian more than he ever did Jason because he is willing to put Jason through his own personal hell for Damian but refuses to see the reasons as to why Jason doesn’t want to do it. Bruce is being incredibly selfish and he is not caring enough about Jason to notice that he is hurting him. He even doesn’t notice after Jason says, “I was ready to stand by your side and you’ve thrown it all away!”

It is incredibly sad but it's also a bit of a look into what Bruce will do to Dick in Nightwing vol. 3 #30. It has the exact same vibe in both issues, Bruce going completely berserk on his children and telling them that he “trained them to be better”.

This issue ends with Jason punching Bruce several times and Bruce taunting Jason by telling him that he might as well continue because he is “still standing”. The levels of manipulation that Bruce had going on here weren’t as high as the ones in Nightwing #30 but he sure was a little bitch every step of the way.

Jason, being smart, doesn’t take the bait and tells Bruce that he is leaving and he is taking the car.

Wouldn’t this have been an amazing moment for Jason to finally rid himself of all Batman-related events and bullshit? How did DC miss this amazing opportunity to make Jason Todd/Red Hood a character that can stand on his own and with his own rules?

The potential that was wasted when they made Jason go back to Bruce and help him get Damian back in issues 33 to 37 of this same run is immeasurable. And just like Joker being able to get under Jason’s skin, him going back to Bruce and the “family” for plot purposes harmed Jason’s characterization greatly.

Batman and Robin (2011) #34-37 – Written by Peter Tomasi.

Whatever kind of respect I held for Tomasi because of the way he wrote Jason in #20 is now gone. Issues 34 to 37 have Jason fighting alongside Batman and him being all buddy-buddy with him.

Now, let me make something clear, Bruce wanting to bring Damian back to life/from Apokolips is absolutely fine with me, a father fighting for his son’s life can always make a good story, the thing is that at this point in time not only the events of Batman and Robin #20 have happened but so have the events of Nightwing #30.

So, Bruce going through all of this for one of his kids (that keeps being brought up as if he were his only son) after he emotionally manipulated Jason and Dick makes this story very bitter.

But I understand what DC is doing, you know? Here is how they manage to make this story as bitter-sweet as possible. In issue 34 of this run, Dick shows up in his Spyral get-up and offers his help in getting Damian back, because the kid meant a lot to him but Bruce can’t have Dick helping him out along with Barbara and Tim because Bruce has everyone convinced that Dick is dead. So, DC was like “here is this big brain idea, let’s have Jason, Barbara, and Tim helping Bruce get Damian back”. And that’s exactly what they did.

They dragged Jason back to Batman-related crap after he was manipulated, insulted, and punched by the man that is supposed to be his father. And this issue is also happening after Jason had such an immense existential crisis that he decided to have his memory wiped so he could cleanse himself on any doubt that the Joker had manipulated his free will.

How on earth are we supposed to believe that Jason is dumb enough to go back to Batman after all that? Does DC and its writers read their own material? Do they check if the characters that they are planning on using have contradicting narratives?

It’s so messy, the opportunity that DC, Tynion, Tomasi, and Lobdell got to make Jason his own man and his own character was completely wasted, just for a Batman event!

And it isn’t like Jason’s participation in getting Damian back was crucial, it really wasn’t, if I am planning on taking a team of heroes to Apokolips for a rescue mission, Jason, Barbara and Tim wouldn’t be my first options. Jason was put in that book only so they could have someone making snarky comments and for Jason to be like “Bruce we are family, we will always have each other’s backs” I mean, who is Jason supposed to be, Dom Toretto?

Here are some of the moments that seemed the most out of touch for Jason in these issues.

Batman and Robin #34

In issue 34 Bruce gives a long speech about him not wanting to hide things anymore from them (like he did during the events of Death of the Family) and that he wants a new start because they “have been broken long enough” so from that moment forward “good or bad, the truth rules”.

The audacity of this man, my god, how dense can Bruce be? “we’ve been broken long enough”? YOU have broken your relationship with these people time and time again! As you are standing there talking about the truth you are hiding the fact that Dick is alive and well somewhere far away because YOU sent him on a very dangerous mission after he died and you manipulated him.

THE AUDACITY OF THIS PIECE OF SHIT! Am I becoming an anti-Batman blog? I think I am and quite honestly, I am having the time of my life. Fuck this guy.

But back to the issue, after Bruce says that the truth is all that goes now, Barbara basically says that she doesn’t believe him, that all it takes for Bruce to go back to lying is “another situation that justifies you going dark on us in more ways than one” HA! You go, girl! But he is already hiding something from all of you.

Jason being himself supplies a situation like the ones where Batman lies to them in order to get them to work for him, he says, “or bringing me to Magdala Valley on a sightseeing trip to reminisce about the good old days of crowbars and explosions”, ah yes, sure, Bruce did all that back in issue 20 and now it is brought up as an afterthought… how wonderful.

Bruce, of course, lies to their faces when he says “I promise that nothing gets held back. We speak our mind no matter what the cost” to which Jason says “Unconditional truth now and forever, Bruce, otherwise this is all a load of crap”.

AND IT IS! IT IS ALL A LOAD OF CRAP CHONKY! RUN, RUN LIKE THE WIND!

Man, what a mess, poor Dick. He had to wait there and watch his father lie his ass off. And he really wanted to help Bruce get Damian back. Even after Bruce told Dick (as well as Barbara, Tim, and Jason) that he had to go to Apokolips alone Dick still helped Bruce in other ways, Dick really is the MVP, what a man, I love him so much!

(I really needed to show my love for Dick right then and there, sometimes you just have to do it. Dick Grayson is, after all, the greatest comic character to have ever been created).

Batman and Robin #36

First of all, seeing Jason and Barbara wearing the Robin symbol really makes me laugh. It’s just weird to see Barbara wear it, it almost feels like it’s something that shouldn’t have happened and in Jason’s case, well, the last time he wore it he died and it’s kinda funny to see beefy and tall Red Hood wearing a Robin symbol, it’s just funny not a critique.

What I am going to critique from this issue is that after they (Jason, Barbara, and Tim) go to Apokolips and find Bruce they say, “You’re here in this hellish place for your son, Bruce” and Jason continues that with, “And we’re here for you”.

Ah, the irony. Of all people, having Jason say that to Bruce is wild. This man has done nothing for Jason and here Jason is, in Apokolips, of all places, to help a man that does not deserve it. This is proof that Jason is a good man but its also proof that he is an idiot in the New 52, I am sorry but come on, writing Jason this way after what Bruce did to him in issue 20 seems like DC is confirming the fact that even though Batman does the most horrible stuff to his kids, he can still get away with it because his kids still love him all the same.

I understand, loving your parents when they are flawed but Bruce had been written at this time like an abusive father, and he was written like that towards Jason and Dick, so it is not a good look. Bruce saying that he promises that he won’t do it anymore isn’t enough DC, make the man pay for being that way, make his kids stay away from him for a while (or forever).

And here is the other thing, I say that Bruce is Jason and Dick’s father but DC doesn’t, they only acknowledge Damian as Bruce’s son and they do it because the New 52 timeline is non-existent. After all, they deleted a lot of history from these characters, I think it’s fair to assume that Bruce never adopted Dick or Jason and that both of them were Robin for a very short time. What I am trying to say with this is that not only is Bruce getting away with being abusive but he is also getting away with being an abusive father. Because Bruce is their father, at least I see it that way, he isn’t just his friend/mentor/tutor he is their father. He used to be before New 52 and that’s not something that we as the readers are ready or want to let go of.

All in all, Jason didn’t do much in these issues thus confirming (to me, at least) that the only reason he was invited to the party was because they couldn’t use Dick. And that’s an insult to Jason’s character, it would have been better if Jason didn’t appear in this story and he actually had the chance to do something else, like go back to being the proper Red Hood, an anti-hero that does what Batman won’t do for Gotham and its people.

[ii-iikko]

Oops posted it on wrong blog sjsjsk

ERWIN. FEM. READER

Erwin offers to take you the market. You don’t like him very much.

THE office was dimly lit. Interior largely of mahogany brown, the once glossy veneer now bores the stale dull of wood. Pitch black blotted the regions where the gentle glow of the lantern from your table wouldn't reach.

Everyone had clocked out for today. You offered to stay behind to clear out the register — sorting through the columns and columns of names with a hope that each and every one of the patients had been rightfully dosed of medication. While it helped to ease the workload for tomorrow, your determination had came at a price.

On your right, beyond the frost sheathed window was the swarth-en veil of the night. And, it was childish impulse that urged you halt scribbling on the paper, turn, blow, curl out a finger and drag careful lines about the cold glass. Eventually conjured was a simple smile that grinned back, expectant.

Uncertainty blossomed in your chest. But you figured a taut quirk of your lips would be enough — even if it was stiff and even if it was half hearted. After all, the night had fallen cold. Having just finish up the last few batches of report , you longed for the warm covers of your bed.

You pushed the chair back. Blew out the flickering lantern and slung the satchel over your shoulder, paving your way down the steps.The ingress, large wooden doors, was wide open and no more than a few steps later would you be free from this—

A call of your name halted your steps, coupled with succession of footsteps behind thatmade you freeze. You whirled around, greeted with a looming shadow that overhead blocks the flare of the chandelier above and three steps back is all it takes for you regard his face fully.

“Commander.” You greet. Not kindly.

The commander smiles. But it isn't just any smile. The look on his face is soft. Just as his eyes were. Crinkling blue in tandem of the curve over his whites. He is but gentle as he regards you, gentle like the smile you carved out with care on the window. A warm touch against the cold. And, yet...

Discreetly, you glance around. There is no one else in the room. He peered at the satchel you were clutching and points to it almost instinctively. "I see you are finished."

“That, I am. I cant help but ask. Is there something you need from me?”

If he had caught onto your sharp tone, he shows no visible reaction. Instead, he inclines his head, a hand dismissing the thought. "No, not of that sort. It's a lovely weather tonight and I was hoping I could accommodate you across the market. There's a festival not too far and I hear the town lights are beautiful at this time of the month."

You blinked, “How did you know I was going to the market?”

At this inquiry, Erwin turns away. " I was passing by when I overheard you chatting with the lance corporal. I deeply apologized if I made you feel—“

“It’s fine." You raise a hand. "I was only surprised you knew. Only to the market, right?"

He ponders for a moment. " We could stroll on for more?"

You nod. " Won't be too much of a harm, then. Let's go."

Despite conceding, you were hesitant. Conjuring a scandal by simply seen walking alongside the commander isn’t something you could bear. It happened several times. Many had thought you were his lover. Not that you didn't mind covering for his Commander's apparent non-existent love life there was also the fact that you wished to never associate with him at all outside work duties. But it isn't wise to turn him down as well. Not when your life depends on his hands. What keys he chose to glide it over. Strings to a puppet. Puppet bounded by string.

Speaking of puppet..

Erwin isn’t beside you. You halt and turn to find that he has his back to you, the tip of his ears red. He's hunched over as well — is he rubbing his face? Just what on earth is he doing? You narrow your eyes. “If you need to get something—“

Instantly, he turns back around, clearing his throat. His forehead is all but pinched red. “Lets not wait any longer." He says. " The night might turn colder."

"I...yes, that is..right." You nod slowly.

As he strides past you, gait stern and commanding of an officer as he, all you could think about was how strange he is. He’s a strange, strange man this commander. 

—

YOU try not to scoot away when he gets close. You also try not to flinch when his hand grazes against yours. Though, you did give him a look when he's close to holding your waist. But to be fair it was also a miscalculation, on your part. Too fixated on a stall, you tripped over your footing and it was all due to Erwin clutching your waist that the granite hadn't kissed your face yet. But the sudden proximity made you lock his eyes. He simply flushed at your look and kept his hands behind his back ever since. As though he'd be maimed the moment he twitched.

Irritation blossomed in your chest like vines curling up a ladder. Why is he acting this way? Childish. Awestruck. Often in the office, the most common expression he’s rooked on is a firm look that could melt ice and freeze hell over. Now, under the warm bustling lanterns of the festival, the past rolling fleets of vibrant mingling colors — his face is soft. One side of his cheek, the sharp contours is sheathed with bright orange while, where the shadow falls melts with the crinkle of his eyes and a shroud of a smile.

The visage of the window comes back. You push the thought away.

“A boy,” You mutter. Too bright. Much too bright.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

Erwin takes a step aside, cautious. "Did you find anything that you like?"

After a quick stroll round the markets, you had gotten the groceries you need. Mostly eggs and lettuce and a few chops of chicken. Now, you humored his request for a walk through the festivities.After all, the path is closer to your house, anyway which is why you conceded.

"I haven't been to a festival often. It's...new to me, to be honest."

" I see. Then I'm assuming you haven't tried these games, as well?" He gestured to the stalls.

You look, scanning the many sage tents propped up with decoration and vibrant commodities.

“Would you like to try?”

“The rifle range? I don’t think I’m adequate.”

You grimaced at the sight. Children and old seniors alike, giggling and cooing everytime a patron had made a perfect shot in the target. You were sure to humiliate him if ever you're to hold a gun.

Erwin only chuckled "Nonsense." And you flinched when his hands curled round your wrists, tugging you along. " Everyone has their own shortcomings. Learning a rifle isn't too bothersome, believe me."

Without much thought he grabs your hands and you try your hardest not to pull it away. 

—

THE man at the stall was not much taller than Erwin. He was quite built. Tanned, dark eyed and considerably not bad looking from behind his ivory draped table.

"How many rounds?" Was his polite inquiry, already propping up the station for play. Your companion pulled out a pouch— his wallet that he took out several sheets of money from.

"Just two."

You reached into your satchel, frantic. "Oh, no it's okay. I'll—"

"Two rounds." But the deal had already been docked. Money taken and stashed. You gave a betrayed look to the man who only laughed in reply.

"Have you played this before?" He loaded up the rifle with, what you're assuming, is false bullets. Plastic at most. Soft and easily reflective.

"She hasn't."

You fight the burn from your face. "I must admit remorsely...i'm not very well aquainted with...these festivities."

"Ah, you'll get to be. Don't worry. Just a few games and—" He snapped his fingers in good humor. " You'll be rooked in like a drug."

" I hope not. I wouldn't want to go through the laboring process of rehabilitation." You said dryly.

" Easier said than done, lady." Was his playful retort.

Erwin extends the rifle to you, "Ready?"

You take it reluctantly. "Quite."

After a few rounds it was increasingly clear you're not as intelligent as you would seem to be. Each play proved further that your inadequate stance, aim, position is, at most, profoundly low levelled — even, the wind at some point isn't in your favor.

Observing the target, the concentric circle consisted of three layers. You drilled all but the middle. And all but the target, even. Some bullets pelted the sage tent behind.

Erwin pats your shoulder. "No point giving up now when you have so much to lose, yes? Stay put. I will get us drinks.” 

And with that he left, disappearing amidst the flock of crowd. Now, you're here with the man who leant against the counter, regarding you with warm eyes.

"Help?"

"I'll humiliate you further if you don't." You said with a groan, lowering the muzzle. " I just can't hold it right."

He rounded the table and came behind.

" That's because you're too stiff, my lady. You should stand perpendicular to the target with your feet roughly shoulder width apart. May I?" You allowed him to cage you in. " Here, just keep your hold on it tight. ”

“Like this?” You curl your finger around the trigger. His curls over yours as well.

"Yes, like that." He echoed, "Now, aim."

You raise the muzzle in line with the target. Stance, aim, position and breathing in mind you pulled the trigger. And—

Your cheeks lift up in its own accord, carving out a bright smile from your lips. "The middle!"

"If you are then you might as well be the gods."

"Yes, the middle." He grinned as well, pointing at the chafe of a bullet in the circle. "I'm such a good savior aren't?"

His laugh rumbled through your body as he shifted behind you. "See? All it takes is—"

“Excuse me.”

The man stiffened and you both simultaneously turn to find Erwin standing at the parting of the tent with drinks and food on his arms.

The natural crinkle of his eyes and smile is now rigid under the lantern. Soft contours now donning a sharp shadow. The plastic cup in his hold is unnaturally taut, gripped firm. A kind of silence fell. You're not so sure what to say at this sudden change in disposition, but you kept quiet.

The smiley face on the window vaporized.

Erwin walks towards you. The man is already at arms length, three steps away and silent as Erwin grabs the rifle and drills in at least a perfect shot on each and every one on the target spanning across the ground.

"The prizes please.” He says politely, setting the rifle down.

The man bowed simply and left without a word.

Something simmered in your chest watching him waddled away— but it wasn’t annoyance. Something like guilt festers deep inside. But you’re not sure why you’re guilty at all when you haven’t done anything wrong yet.

When he’s done gathering the prizes, on top of all the food and drinks — seriously, how does he do that? He turns urns to you, "Shall we?”

You gathered the several box of prizes from him to ease the weight. “You can play more if you want,”

“But would it be alright if we went to a different stall?”

“I…” He wants to change stalls now? That’s….you thought he was having fun here. “Anything. It's alright, you can do whatever you want to do,”

He momentarily glances to the man. “Good.”

Good? Your confusion reeks further when his palm is on your back steering you away from the tent. Erwin twists his body, peering over your shoulder. To probably look at the target, no doubt. What could possibly fuel his sudden annoyance for the man?

That question is short-lived as the sight of food quells the confusion away.

—

WHEN Erwin bid you farewell that night he returned to his quarters immediately. It was almost a daze-like trance as he sauntered through his nightly routine. Changing into comfortable clothes, arms half-way plunging through a sleeve, his mind is consumed with the earlier escapade this evening, some lighting up a bright expression and some that drew a visible frown.

Either ways, he shook off the irritation and slumped on the bed, relished the warm cushions on his bed and wished, for a moment, that your face nuzzled the pillow beside him.

It was a memory engrained into his mind. Your face was warm under the vibrant lanterns. Almost soft, and pleasant like a summer's morning.

His face grew warm. Tip of the ears tinged pink. Erwin grabbed the pillow and plunged his face into it.