#is anyone tired of me making these all about jason yet

[nevlartery]

11. Shame

[ID: A black and white sketch of Bruce Wayne looking into Jason Todd's memorial case]

[dreamersworldduh]

HI NEIGHBOR — PART TWO

• JASON TODD x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — you’re new to the neighborhood and find yourself becoming friends with the residential bad boy, Jason Todd. From his perspective, you seems like a outgoing guy yet there’s a mystery to you he couldn’t quite figure out.

WARNING! Suggestive Langauge. Swearing. Violence.

WORDS! 8.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! here we are with part two, I hope you enjoy!

NEXT PART! THREE

PREVIOUS PART! ONE

The atmosphere in your apartment was thick with tension, the air still sharp with the lingering scent of gunpowder and shattered glass. The dim, flickering light from the broken TV cast long shadows across the room as you stormed into your bedroom, moving with determined purpose.

Jason stood frozen near the doorway, still reeling from what he'd just witnessed. His mind raced, replaying the brutal, calculated way you'd taken down the League of Assassins operatives with a skill he'd never expected — not from you. Not from someone he thought he knew.

He followed after you, his boots crunching on broken glass. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, voice rough with frustration.

You didn't even look at him, your expression cold and unreadable as you yanked open your closet. Clothes were shoved aside with practiced efficiency until you reached the back wall where a large, worn duffle bag rested.

Jason's eyes narrowed as you pulled it out and threw it onto the bed, immediately unzipping it. His heart skipped when he saw what you packed — stacks of cash, a worn passport, and several other small pouches he couldn't immediately identify.

"Planning a trip?" Jason growled, stepping forward.

You shot him a glare but didn't stop moving. "Surviving," you corrected coldly, tossing in a compact utility knife, a small first aid kit, and another roll of cash from a hidden compartment in your dresser. "Staying here is a death sentence now."

Jason clenched his jaw, anger flaring despite the chaos swirling in his mind. "You knew this was coming."

You froze for half a second, your shoulders tensing before you zipped up the side pouch of the duffle. "I had a feeling," you admitted quietly. "But I was hoping I'd have more time."

Jason took another step closer, his voice low and dangerous. "Time for what? Who the hell are you?"

You slowly turned to face him, your expression still unreadable — cold but... tired. Like you were exhausted from keeping the truth buried.

"Who I was," you corrected softly, your voice tinged with something darker. "That person... doesn't exist anymore."

Jason's sharp eyes searched your face, anger and suspicion warring within him. "You fought like one of them. Like you were trained." He practically spat the word, his fists tightening at his sides. "Were you part of the League?"

Your jaw clenched. "I was never one of them," you bit out, venom in your tone. "But they sure as hell tried to make me."

Jason's breath hitched, his mind flashing back to the brutal efficiency of your fighting style — every move precise, lethal, and honed through relentless training. The League's signature.

"How?" he demanded, voice low.

You exhaled slowly, running a hand through your hair, as if grappling with how much to say. "I was... taken. Years ago." Your voice dropped, filled with quiet resentment. "They wanted another weapon. I didn't give them one."

Jason processed your words, every piece of the puzzle snapping into place far too easily — the way you'd fought like it was second nature, the way you always seemed on edge despite your laid-back facade. It all made sense now.

He stepped even closer, his voice deadly serious. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

Your eyes burned with frustration as you met his gaze. "Tell you what, Jason? That I was hunted by assassins from a global death cult?" You shook your head. "I left that life behind. I thought... hoped... they'd forgotten about me."

Jason's jaw clenched, knowing better than anyone that the past never really lets you go.

But then, your eyes flicked toward the twin pistols holstered on his thighs, still faintly gleaming under the dim light. His leather jacket was slightly torn from the fight, exposing familiar tactical gear beneath — armor reinforced with Kevlar, built for survival.

Your gaze sharpened, realization dawning.

"My turn," you said quietly, taking a slow step toward him. "Who the hell are you?"

Jason's expression hardened, his fingers brushing the grip of one of his pistols — not in threat, but out of instinct.

"You're not just some guy I met in the hallway," you pressed, your voice cutting through the heavy silence. "You show up with takeout and combat-grade instincts... You knew exactly what those assassins were the second they came through that window."

Jason's fists clenched. He hated how sharp your mind was, how fast you'd pieced it together — but there was no point in lying now.

"You don't want that answer," he growled.

"Try me," you shot back, taking another step forward until you were just inches apart. "You can't stand here demanding answers when you've been hiding just as much."

Jason's breath came in slow and measured. His eyes burned with intensity as he met your fierce, unyielding gaze — two people trapped in a web of half-truths and buried pasts.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, letting the tension bleed out of his shoulders.

"I'm Red Hood," he said quietly, his voice like steel.

Your breath hitched, recognition flashing across your face — you knew that name. Everyone in Gotham did.

"The vigilante..." you whispered, stunned.

Jason's lips twisted into something between a smirk and a grimace. "Depends who you ask."

The weight of the truth settled between you like a heavy storm ready to break.

Before either of you could say another word, the sound of shattering glass echoed. You could hear the faint, purposeful creak of boots against metal outside—someone approaching from the fire escape again.

Jason moved to the door, drawing his twin pistols, while you shifted into a defensive stance near the broken window, fingers brushing the hilt of a blade you'd grabbed from your duffle bag. Your breaths were steady, controlled, honed by years of survival. Whoever was coming wasn't going to get the drop on you this time.

The sound of the window frame creaking as something heavy landed just outside made both of you snap into action. Jason aimed his pistols toward the shattered glass while you prepared to lunge.

"Hold your fire, Todd," came a low, commanding voice from the shadows outside.

Jason cursed under his breath but lowered his guns ever so slightly, recognizing the voice immediately. "Damn it..."

Before you could process what was happening, three familiar figures emerged from the broken window and landed soundlessly inside your wrecked living room.

Batman. Nightwing. Red Robin.

Their presence was both menacing and commanding, even in the dim, shattered apartment. Batman's dark cape flowed behind him like a living shadow, his piercing, unreadable eyes locking onto you in an instant. Nightwing landed just behind him with practiced ease, scanning the room with a wary but curious expression, while Red Robin moved with sharp, tactical precision, already assessing the damage and possible exits.

Jason sighed, holstering one of his guns with a sharp click. "Could've knocked," he muttered bitterly.

Nightwing's eyebrows shot up as he took in the mess. "Looks like someone already did." His eyes flicked toward you, lingering for a second longer than necessary, curious and calculating.

Batman stepped forward, voice cold and commanding. "Jason. Report."

Jason gave you a quick glance, silently telling you to hold back—for now. "The League of Assassins showed up," he said shortly. "They weren't here to talk." His voice was sharp, his frustration barely held in check. "They were after him." He tilted his head toward you.

Red Robin narrowed his eyes. "Damian was right, wasn't he?" His voice was clipped, cautious but not accusing.

Jason clenched his jaw. "Technically, yeah." He let out a slow breath. "But it's... complicated."

You stiffened, every muscle ready to spring into action. Their eyes were all on you now—judging, calculating, and deciding whether you were a threat. You could feel Batman's cold, unyielding scrutiny weighing heavily on you, like he could see everything you'd ever done just by looking at you.

"Who is he?" Batman demanded, his deep, gravelly voice leaving no room for evasion.

Jason met his gaze head-on. "He's... one of us." His voice was firm, though uncertain in a way you'd never heard before. "But not the way you think."

Nightwing frowned, crossing his arms. "You're sure about that?"

Jason's jaw tightened. "I am now."

Their attention turned fully toward you—and you moved.

Without a single word, you lunged toward the shattered window, your instincts screaming that staying put would only get you killed—or worse, captured. Your feet hit the ledge with practiced grace as you dove into the dark, empty alley below, barely making a sound as you twisted mid-air and landed in a perfect crouch.

Jason's curse echoed faintly behind you, but you were already moving—ready to vanish into the night.

But as soon as your boots hit the wet pavement of the dark alleyway, you froze.

Figures emerged from the shadows — not just one or two, but an entire unit of League assassins, their gleaming blades reflecting the dim, hazy light from the streetlamp above. Their movements were silent, calculated, and far too familiar.

And then... she appeared.

Talia al Ghul.

Tall, graceful, and utterly lethal, she stepped out from the shadows as though she belonged to the night itself, her dark cloak billowing slightly in the cold Gotham breeze. Her piercing, calculating eyes locked onto you with chilling precision.

"Running, are we?" she said smoothly, her voice low and deadly, with just the faintest hint of amusement. "I would've expected better... from one of my creations."

Your blood ran cold, but you didn't let it show. You forced yourself to stand tall, your breath steady, fists clenched at your sides.

"Talia," you spat, voice hard as steel. "You should've stayed gone."

She smiled—a slow, dangerous thing that never reached her eyes. "You truly thought you could leave that life behind? Escape?" Her tone turned sharp. "No one escapes the League."

Behind her, the assassins silently drew their blades, stepping into position with terrifying precision. Their cold, unblinking eyes locked onto you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you shifted into a ready stance, muscles taut and prepared to fight—to survive.

"Tell your dogs to back off," you warned darkly. "Or I'll put them down too."

Talia tilted her head, studying you like a predator deciding how much effort it would take to crush its prey. "I taught you... everything. Do you really believe you can win?"

Before you could respond, the sharp, familiar click of a gun being cocked echoed from the rooftop above.

"I don't believe," Jason's voice drawled, sharp and dangerous, echoing down the alley like a death sentence. "I know."

From the ledge, Jason stood tall with his twin pistols aimed directly at Talia's head, his eyes blazing with fierce, protective determination.

A second later, Batman, Nightwing, and Red Robin silently appeared on the opposite end of the alley, cutting off the League's exit like an unspoken declaration of war.

Talia's cold smirk only deepened as she studied the standoff—but something dangerous and personal burned in her gaze when her eyes flicked back toward you.

"This... will be fun," she whispered, just before her assassins surged forward.

The fight was just beginning.

Soon the alleyway echoed with the clash of blades and the sharp crack of gunfire. Rain began to fall, making the worn pavement slick as shadows danced under the flickering streetlights. The League of Assassins swarmed like a wave of relentless predators, silent and deadly, their blades gleaming like fangs in the dark.

You, Jason, Batman, Nightwing, and Red Robin fought side by side in a brutal, chaotic rhythm. Every movement was precise, every strike calculated. Jason's twin pistols barked loudly, forcing assassins into defensive retreats. Batman moved like a dark specter, disarming enemies with brutal efficiency. Red Robin was a blur of staff strikes and gadget-based precision, while Nightwing's electrified escrima sticks cracked like thunder through the air.

But they just kept coming.

For every assassin you put down, two more seemed to take their place, emerging from the thick shadows like something unstoppable.

Breathing heavily, you drove your elbow into an assassin's jaw, sending them crashing into the alley wall. Another charged at you from the side, but you twisted mid-step, driving your knee into their chest and sending them sprawling.

Jason fired a well-placed shot at an advancing swordsman, barely glancing back as he shouted, "We can't hold this position much longer!"

Batman growled, blocking a pair of incoming blades with his armored gauntlets before disarming his attacker with a vicious twist. "We fall back together. Stay—alert!"

But as you staggered back into formation, you felt it.

That familiar pulse thrumming in your chest—the power you'd spent years suppressing, forcing down, pretending it didn't exist. It surged, burning beneath your skin like molten fire, begging to be unleashed.

Another wave of assassins advanced, eyes cold and deadly. Their relentless precision... their sheer numbers... you knew there was no escape without making a choice.

No more running.

You clenched your fists, gritting your teeth as the power surged through your veins—hot and demanding. The ground beneath your feet trembled faintly as energy began coiling around you, rising with intensity.

Jason noticed first. "What the hell—?" he muttered, glancing back at you with wide, confused eyes.

Then it happened.

Your eyes blazed a fierce, radiant yellow, glowing like molten embers in the dark. Your fists shimmered with the same golden light, illuminating the rain-soaked alley in a blazing, pulsing aura of energy.

The assassins hesitated, visibly faltering for the first time.

Batman's sharp gaze snapped toward you, his mind already assessing, calculating—but even he seemed momentarily taken aback.

Without another word, you moved.

The first assassin surged toward you with deadly intent, twin blades flashing. You met him head-on, driving a glowing fist into his chest with tremendous concussive force. The shockwave from the impact sent him flying backward like a ragdoll, crashing through a stack of metal crates with a deafening CRASH.

Another assassin lunged from behind—silent, precise—but you twisted sharply and let them hit you.

Steel met skin.

The assassin's katana came down hard against the back of your head—only to shatter against your glowing aura like brittle glass. You didn't even flinch.

Jason's mouth dropped open. "Holy—"

Before the shattered blade hit the ground, you spun on your heel, catching the stunned assassin by the collar. With inhuman strength, you hurled him over your shoulder, sending him skidding across the rain-slick pavement.

Three more assassins charged—but you were faster.

With fluid, precise agility, you flipped over them in one smooth, powerful motion, landing just behind their formation. Before they could react, you lashed out with rapid, thunderous punches, each strike powered by raw concussive force. One by one, they crumpled like broken marionettes, groaning in pain as they hit the ground.

"What the hell..." Red Robin breathed, eyes wide, staff lowered momentarily.

From the rooftop, another assassin hurled a cluster of throwing stars with deadly precision—but your glowing eyes tracked them easily.

Too slow.

You sidestepped effortlessly, dodging the projectiles with perfect precision before launching forward like a streak of lightning. With one explosive strike, you drove your glowing fist into the assassin's chest, sending them crashing through a rusted fire escape ladder, twisting the metal on impact.

Nightwing muttered under his breath, "I'm definitely not putting this in the report."

The last assassin standing hesitated, visibly shaken—but before they could retreat, Jason raised one of his pistols with cold, lethal intent. "Don't even think about it," he snarled.

The assassin wisely dropped his blade, collapsing to his knees in surrender.

For a long, tense moment, the alley fell into silence, broken only by the faint crackle of electricity still shimmering around your glowing fists. The faint pulse of your energy slowly dimmed, flickering out as your breath slowed.

Jason, Red Robin, and Nightwing stared, still processing what they'd just seen.

Batman's piercing gaze locked onto you—cold, analytical, and deadly serious. Whatever calculations he'd been running in his mind just shifted dramatically.

Then... the faintest rustle echoed from the far end of the alley.

You spun around—but Talia al Ghul was gone.

Vanished.

Only the faint outline of her form remained in the falling rain, swallowed by the shadows as if she'd never been there at all.

Your glowing fists dimmed completely as you exhaled slowly, wiping sweat from your brow—but the looks from the Bat-family remained.

Jason broke the silence first, his voice low and rough.

"...The hell... was that?"

Red Robin stepped forward, still stunned. "That's why they want you." His voice dropped with dawning understanding. "They weren't just after your skills... they were after that."

Nightwing crossed his arms, lips tightening as he processed what he'd seen. "You're not just some ex-League runaway." His eyes gleamed with something deeper—worry. "You're a weapon."

Batman's voice cut through the air like a blade—cold, calculating, dangerous.

"Start talking," he commanded, his gaze locked on yours. "What are you?"

You met their stares head-on, your voice steady despite the weight of what just happened.

"I'm not what they made me."

But even you weren't sure how much longer that would be true.

The Batcave was cold, vast, and dimly lit, illuminated only by the bluish glow of the massive Batcomputer and the low flicker of overhead work lights. The faint sound of dripping water echoed through the cavern's endless expanse, mingling with the distant hum of advanced technology. The sharp, metallic scent of the cave's reinforced platforms and tactical gear filled the air.

You stood in the center of the operations platform, arms crossed, refusing to sit despite Jason's earlier gruff suggestion. Tension crackled like static between you and the Bat-family surrounding you—watching, assessing, waiting.

Batman loomed near the Batcomputer, his imposing figure partially obscured by the shadows of his cape. Nightwing stood to his right, arms crossed, his piercing blue eyes unreadable but focused. Red Robin paced near the console, fingers lightly grazing the hilt of his staff as he processed what little information you'd shared. Jason—Red Hood—stood closest to you, his expression sharp, still radiating frustration but tempered by something else... something protective.

The weight of their stares pressed down on you, heavy and unrelenting. They wanted answers—but you weren't ready to give them.

"You need to start talking," Batman said, his deep, commanding voice cutting through the thick silence like a blade. His intense gaze locked onto yours, unreadable but calculating. "Who are you to the League?"

You clenched your jaw, refusing to flinch. "I'm no one to them. Not anymore."

Jason growled lowly, stepping forward. "They sent an army after you—Talia personally showed up. Don't stand there and act like you're nobody."

Before you could respond, a sharp, familiar voice rang out from the shadows near the far entrance.

"He's not 'nobody.'"

Everyone turned as Damian Wayne—Robin—strode toward the group, his green cape flowing behind him, his expression cold and unforgiving. His gloved hands were clenched, and there was something almost... triumphant in his piercing green eyes.

Batman's brow furrowed slightly. "Damian—"

"I know exactly who he is." Damian came to a stop a few feet away from you, his sharp gaze locking onto yours with something between contempt and twisted respect.

"His name... is Kai." His voice was low but cutting. "He was Ra's al Ghul's most guarded secret—a weapon the League tried to perfect but couldn't control."

Jason and Dick exchanged sharp, stunned glances. Red Robin's fingers tightened on his staff.

"What are you talking about?" Jason demanded.

Damian's lip curled faintly. "He was trained in the League's deepest sanctuaries—places even I wasn't allowed to enter. They called him the Chi Warden." His voice dripped with bitter acknowledgment. "The only student who ever mastered the forbidden teachings of Chi Manipulation."

Batman's gaze darkened. "Explain."

Damian's tone remained cold and clinical. "The League trained him to harness life energy itself—Chi." He gestured toward you with a sharp flick of his wrist. "He doesn't just fight—he amplifies his strength, speed, endurance... even his mind. Every punch he throws—every movement—is charged with devastating power."

Red Robin's eyes widened slightly. "That's... impossible." His voice was quiet but shaken.

Damian's expression remained harsh. "Not for him." His gaze narrowed further. "The assassins didn't come to kill him. They came to retrieve him—because he's their greatest asset."

Jason swore under his breath, his eyes burning with new understanding.

You stood rigid, your fists clenched at your sides. The truth was out—again. No more running. No more pretending.

"You didn't tell us this," Nightwing said quietly, disappointment flickering in his tone.

"I don't owe you anything," you shot back, your voice rough with pent-up frustration. "I'm not with them—I left!"

Damian took a threatening step closer. "The League doesn't just let people go. They'll hunt you until they get what they want."

Jason snapped, stepping between you and Damian with sudden, fiery intensity. "You're the reason they're here in the first place!" His voice was sharp with blame. "You couldn't leave this alone—you called them here!"

Damian's eyes flashed with defiance. "I was protecting Gotham."

Jason surged forward, his voice low and dangerous. "You unleashed a war on Gotham—all because you couldn't accept being wrong."

Before the situation could escalate, Batman's voice cut through like a thunderclap.

"Enough."

The room fell into tense silence.

Batman's gaze remained locked on Damian, his voice low and deadly calm. "Jason's right. You escalated this." His tone turned cold. "And now it's our responsibility to fix it."

Damian's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Batman turned to face you fully, his expression unreadable but final.

"From this point forward... you're under our protection."

Your eyes widened, and you bristled.

"I don't need your protection," you growled, your fists clenching. "I'm not some helpless target—"

"You are now," Batman interrupted harshly, his cape shifting as he stepped forward. "The League won't stop. They'll come at you again... and next time, they won't hold back."

You took a sharp step toward him, refusing to back down. "Let them try. I've survived worse."

Jason grabbed your arm, his voice rough but sincere. "You don't have to anymore."

You yanked your arm away, breathing heavily, feeling that familiar, burning power stir in your chest.

Nightwing's voice softened as he stepped closer. "You've been fighting this alone for too long." His eyes were steady but understanding. "Let us help."

You looked around, still tense—still not ready to trust—but you saw something in their faces that caught you off guard.

Belief.

Not fear. Not suspicion.

Just... belief.

After a long, heavy moment, you let out a slow, reluctant breath.

"I don't need you," you said quietly—but the fight had drained from your voice.

Jason smirked faintly, something softer in his sharp gaze. "Maybe not... but you've got us anyway."

The cavern fell silent, but this time... the tension felt different.

It felt... lighter.

The Batcave remained eerily quiet after the intense confrontation with the Bat-family. The faint hum of the Batcomputer's advanced systems echoed through the cavernous space, accompanied by the occasional drip of water from the towering stalactites. You stood near the massive central platform, still tense, still processing everything that had just happened — the fight, the truth about the League's pursuit, and the Bat-family's sudden decision to protect you, whether you liked it or not.

Jason hovered nearby, his sharp blue eyes constantly flicking toward you, watching for any sign of unease. Though he'd never admit it out loud, there was a hint of understanding in his gaze, tempered by the same guarded wariness you saw in all of them.

You crossed your arms, shifting uncomfortably as Batman, Nightwing, and Red Robin stood in a small formation a few feet away, speaking in low, urgent tones. Even from where you were standing, you could feel Batman's intense presence ��� unreadable, commanding, calculating. His cape hung like a shadow around him, making him seem larger, more imposing.

Nightwing broke from the conversation first, his sharp, perceptive eyes flicking toward you as he approached, arms relaxed but his posture still alert.

"You're gonna be staying here for now," he said smoothly, gesturing toward the massive stone staircase leading deeper into the Batcave. "It's... safer than anywhere else in Gotham."

Your eyebrows rose slightly, skepticism clear on your face. "You're just... letting me stay here? In your base?"

Jason snorted quietly. "Trust me, this wasn't a group vote." His sharp gaze cut toward Batman, whose attention remained fixed on the Batcomputer.

Nightwing offered a faint, knowing smirk. "Think of it as... protective custody. At least until we figure out what the League's next move is."

Red Robin joined the conversation, adjusting one of his gauntlets as he approached. "You're still a security risk," he admitted bluntly. "But if the League's after you... keeping you out there is a bigger one."

You exhaled slowly, still processing, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate setup. Before you could respond, movement from the far side of the cave caught your attention.

An older, refined man in a crisp suit descended the stairs with a quiet grace, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. His presence was calm but commanding in a way that felt almost regal.

"Master Jason, Master Timothy," he greeted smoothly, his sharp eyes flicking toward you without missing a beat. "I see our guest is still in one piece."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Barely."

The older man turned toward you, offering a polite, knowing smile. "I am Alfred Pennyworth. Consider me... the caretaker of this establishment." His tone was precise but warm, holding the weight of someone used to commanding both respect and loyalty.

"...You're their butler?" you asked, still unsure how he fit into the picture.

Jason smirked. "He's a lot more than that."

Alfred nodded graciously. "I assure you, I've worn many hats in my time." His sharp gaze swept over you briefly, assessing in a way that reminded you far too much of Batman. "Follow me, if you would."

Before you could argue, Jason gestured for you to move. "Come on. We've got a room set up... temporarily," he added pointedly.

With no real option, you followed Alfred and Jason up the winding metal staircase that led out of the vast, intimidating cavern. The faint hum of the Batcomputer's systems faded into the distance, replaced by the subtle creaks of the old stone walls and distant echoes of water dripping far below. You were still struggling to wrap your head around everything—the fight with the League, Talia's pursuit, and now... this.

As you were walking, you noticed Jason glance at you sideways.

"...So," he said casually, his tone almost conversational, "figured out who he is yet?" He nodded toward the central platform, where Batman continued working at the Batcomputer.

You frowned. "Batman?"

Jason's smirk widened just a bit. "Bruce Wayne."

You stopped dead, processing the name like a bolt of lightning. Bruce Wayne. Billionaire. CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Gotham's most famous man.

"That—what?!" you hissed, your voice low but sharp.

Jason shrugged with practiced nonchalance. "Yeah. Not exactly subtle if you know what to look for."

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

The thought echoed in your mind, refusing to settle. You'd always known Gotham was built on shadows and secrets, but this? Gotham's richest, most untouchable billionaire secretly being its most feared vigilante... it felt unreal.

Jason walked ahead with a practiced ease, his broad shoulders relaxed, though his sharp eyes kept flicking back toward you. He was watching—not out of suspicion, but out of something else... maybe concern, though you doubted he'd admit it.

Alfred led the way with an air of calm efficiency, his polished shoes clicking softly against the stone steps as the three of you ascended toward Wayne Manor above. His posture was precise, his expression unreadable—but there was something almost protective about how he carried himself.

You finally reached a reinforced door at the top of the staircase, seamlessly blending into the stone wall. Alfred pressed a concealed panel, and with a soft hiss, the heavy door slid open, revealing the grand interior of Wayne Manor.

Warm light bathed the grand hall ahead, in stark contrast to the cold, mechanical glow of the Batcave. Polished wood floors gleamed under the soft glow of antique chandeliers. Ornate paintings lined the walls, framed in dark, rich mahogany. The air was warmer, almost comforting, with the faint scent of aged leather and something faintly floral lingering in the background.

You stepped through cautiously, still half-expecting something dark or dangerous—but instead, you were greeted by the quiet elegance of one of the grandest homes in Gotham.

Jason smirked faintly as he saw the way your eyes flicked across the lavish surroundings. "Weird, right?" he said casually. "Going from a death-trap cave to... this." He waved vaguely at the massive foyer. "Takes some getting used to."

You stayed quiet, still taking it all in as Alfred paused in the hall, turning back toward you with his usual calm precision.

"Your accommodations have already been prepared," he said smoothly, gesturing toward the grand staircase at the far end of the foyer. "If you would follow me..."

Jason shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "Welcome to Wayne Manor." His tone was light, but there was something deeper beneath it... something that felt like acceptance.

You hesitated for a moment before following them up the staircase, still uneasy but no longer fighting it.

The second floor of Wayne Manor was just as grand as the first—long hallways lined with intricate wood paneling, elegant carpets, and large, decorative windows that overlooked the expansive, moonlit estate grounds.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you spotted two familiar figures waiting near the far end of the hall—Nightwing and Red Robin.

Or rather... Dick Grayson and Tim Drake.

Dick was casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his signature easygoing grin already in place. Tim stood more rigidly, his sharp, calculating eyes flicking toward you with clear curiosity—but there was no hostility there... only analysis.

"Finally," Dick said with a mock sigh, pushing off the wall and striding toward you. "Took you guys long enough." He extended a hand, his grin widening. "Guess we skipped formal introductions down there. Dick Grayson."

You blinked, still processing as you slowly shook his hand. "Nightwing," you muttered under your breath.

Dick smirked. "Only on weekends."

Tim approached next, his demeanor more reserved but still respectful. He tugged back his hood, revealing sharp, intelligent features beneath dark, slightly tousled hair.

"Tim Drake," he introduced simply, his tone more serious. "Red Robin."

Before you could even begin processing that, Jason snorted from behind you. "Yeah, they're real subtle about the whole 'secret identity' thing."

You shot him a sharp look. "You live here. I figured you'd be more careful."

Jason shrugged with a faint smirk. "At this point? You're in the middle of the biggest secret in Gotham. Figured you'd put two and two together eventually."

Your head was still spinning. Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake... Jason Todd. Gotham's wealthiest family... also its most dangerous protectors.

Tim's gaze lingered on you thoughtfully, as if calculating something. "We've trusted you this far," he said evenly. "Figured you should know who you're working with."

Before you could respond, Alfred smoothly gestured toward a door at the far end of the hall. "Your room is just through here." He unlocked the door with a quiet click and stepped aside.

Jason waved you forward. "Go on. Take a look."

You hesitated for a moment before stepping inside... and paused.

The room was... unexpected.

The space was large but not overwhelming, with tall windows framed by thick, heavy curtains that could be drawn shut for privacy. A sturdy, well-crafted bed sat against the far wall, its dark wood frame polished to perfection. A simple but elegant desk and chair rested near the window, accompanied by a fully stocked bookshelf filled with everything from classic novels to tactical manuals.

The room felt... lived-in somehow, like it wasn't just a place to sleep but somewhere to belong.

You turned back toward them, still processing. "This... is for me?"

Alfred inclined his head politely. "Temporarily, of course. Until the situation with the League is resolved." His voice softened slightly. "Though I assure you... you will be safe here."

Jason's expression flickered with something more serious for a brief moment. "It's better than whatever dump you were staying in before."

You looked at Jason with a raised eyebrow, “We live in the same apartment building.”

Jason couldn't argue with that.

Alfred offered a faint, approving smile. "I trust everything is... satisfactory?"

You nodded slowly, still overwhelmed. "It's... fine."

Dick chuckled softly. "You'll get used to it." He clapped Jason on the shoulder as he passed. "Try to be a decent roommate, huh?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

Before leaving, Alfred fixed you with a pointed, knowing look. "Trust... is earned," he said quietly. "From both sides."

With that, they left, leaving you alone in the quiet warmth of the room.

For the first time in... longer than you could remember... you felt something you thought you'd lost.

Safe.

The quiet stillness of Wayne Manor settled heavily over its grand halls, broken only by the occasional creak of the old wooden beams shifting with the wind. The moonlight filtered faintly through the large, arching windows, casting long, pale beams across the darkened corridors.

Jason wasn't the type to sleep easily—never had been. Restlessness was practically second nature after everything he'd been through. The night clung to him like an old, familiar coat, wrapping him in its dark embrace.

But tonight felt different.

His eyes snapped open, breath steady but sharp, instinct kicking in before his mind could fully process what woke him. He lay still for a moment, his senses on high alert, listening for anything wrong.

Nothing. No footsteps. No creaking doors. Just the faint rustling of wind against the large windows.

He exhaled slowly and ran a hand down his face, trying to push down the uneasy feeling crawling under his skin. Something about tonight didn't sit right.

His gaze drifted toward the glowing red numbers on the clock across the room: 2:47 AM.

"Damn it," he muttered, throwing off the blankets and sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees. He stared down at the worn scars on his calloused hands, trying to shake the unease that wouldn't let go.

It's fine, he told himself. He's fine.

But he couldn't convince himself.

Jason stood abruptly, pulling on a worn hoodie over his plain T-shirt. His boots barely made a sound against the polished wooden floors as he slipped into the dimly lit hallway, his sharp blue eyes flicking toward every dark corner out of old habit. His hand rested instinctively near the hidden knife holstered at his back—not because he expected trouble, but because... just in case.

He approached the door to your room at the far end of the second floor, pausing just outside. His fingers grazed the cold brass handle, hesitation tightening his chest.

He shouldn't check. You were probably asleep, and barging in like a paranoid guard dog would only make things worse.

But something felt... wrong.

Jason turned the handle quietly, easing the heavy wooden door open just far enough to peer inside—and froze.

The room was empty.

The bed was still neatly made, the blankets untouched. The soft glow from the distant moon spilled across the empty desk and darkened shelves, highlighting how utterly vacant the room was.

His breath hitched. His heartbeat kicked into overdrive.

"Damn it," Jason hissed, fully stepping inside, his sharp gaze scanning every inch of the room for any signs of struggle—or escape. But there was nothing.

He moved quickly, checking the adjoining bathroom and the walk-in closet—both empty.

Jason clenched his fists, his mind already racing with worst-case scenarios. He reached for the commlink in his ear instinctively—but stopped.

No... calling in the others would only make things worse if it turned out to be nothing.

But what if it wasn't?

Jason turned on his heel, already striding back toward the main hall, ready to scour the entire manor inch by inch if he had to—until—

"Looking for something, Master Jason?"

Jason spun toward the familiar, steady voice coming from the dimly lit corridor behind him.

Alfred stood calmly at the base of the grand staircase, perfectly composed despite the late hour. His sharp, discerning eyes flicked toward Jason with quiet understanding, arms neatly clasped behind his back as though this was all expected.

Jason exhaled sharply, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Where the hell is he?" His voice was low but tense.

Alfred inclined his head toward the large windows at the end of the hall, where the faint glow of moonlight shimmered through the thin curtains.

"He's outside," Alfred said smoothly, his tone warm but firm. "I thought it best to let him be... considering the circumstances."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Outside?" His voice edged with frustration. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Alfred arched a single, perfectly composed eyebrow. "You were... resting, Master Jason. I thought it best not to disturb you unnecessarily."

Jason opened his mouth to argue—but stopped himself. There was no use. Alfred always had the upper hand in these conversations, no matter how tense the situation.

Jason let out a slow breath, tension bleeding from his shoulders. "Where outside?"

Alfred's faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "The gardens. Near the old stone bench by the eastern courtyard."

Jason hesitated for a moment longer before nodding sharply and heading toward the nearest exit leading to the gardens. His boots clicked softly against the polished floor as he strode toward the back entrance, pushing open the heavy double doors with a quiet creak.

The cold night air hit Jason like a sharp, refreshing wake-up call. The quiet serenity of the gardens stretched out before him, bathed in pale moonlight. The old stone pathways wound through immaculately maintained flower beds and towering oak trees swaying gently in the cool breeze.

Jason's sharp gaze scanned the courtyard immediately, looking for any signs of movement—and then he saw you.

You sat on the edge of a weathered stone bench near a small reflecting pool, partially hidden beneath the sprawling branches of an old oak tree. The soft glow of moonlight bathed your face, highlighting the distant, contemplative expression in your eyes.

You sat perfectly still, elbows resting on your knees, fingers laced together as though lost in thought... or memory.

Jason exhaled slowly, his pulse finally steadying. You were fine.

He approached carefully, boots crunching softly over the gravel path. You didn't react at first, too deep in your own thoughts—until Jason's familiar voice cut through the quiet.

"Could've mentioned you were sneaking out," he said gruffly, though his tone lacked its usual edge.

You glanced up, blinking in faint surprise, but your expression softened slightly when you saw him.

"Couldn't sleep," you said quietly, your voice steady but distant. "Didn't want to... stay inside."

Jason slowly sat down on the opposite end of the bench, resting his forearms on his knees as he studied you carefully.

"...Didn't think you'd still be here," he admitted after a moment. "Figured you might've... run."

Your gaze dropped back to the still surface of the water. "I thought about it."

Jason nodded slowly, understanding. "But you didn't."

You sighed, the weight of everything still pressing down on your shoulders. "Where would I even go? They'll find me... no matter where I run."

Jason's sharp eyes softened just a fraction.

"They won't find you here," he said firmly. "We won't let them."

For the first time, you believed him—even if you weren't sure why.

And in the quiet stillness of the Wayne Manor gardens... the night finally felt calm, neither of you spoke. The tension stretched like a thin wire between you—charged and fragile.

Finally, you exhaled, breaking the heavy silence. "Why?"

Jason's brow furrowed slightly. "What?"

"Why do you care so much?" you asked again, your voice rough, tinged with frustration—but also... something more vulnerable. "You keep putting yourself in danger—for me. Why?"

Jason stiffened slightly, his shoulders tensing beneath his worn leather jacket. He opened his mouth, but you kept going, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

"You barely know me, Jason. You didn't have to help me—any of this. You could've walked away... but you didn't." You shook your head, frowning. "So... why? Why do you care?"

Jason's expression darkened for a moment, like he was fighting something inside himself. His jaw clenched, his fingers twitching like he wanted to do something—but he forced himself to stay still.

He took a slow, measured breath before finally speaking, his voice low and rough. "...Because I get it."

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the quiet intensity in his voice.

Jason's gaze dropped to the ground, his hands flexing into tight fists. "I know what it's like... to be hunted. To feel like you're never safe." His voice turned sharper, edged with something raw and personal. "Like you're always looking over your shoulder... wondering how long you've got before someone finds you."

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you expected.

Jason lifted his head, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours—intense, unwavering.

"I know what it's like... to think you're only worth what they made you. Like you'll never be anything but the weapon they tried to turn you into." His voice dropped lower, rough but sincere. "But you're wrong. You're more than that."

You stared at him, throat tight, unable to speak—but he wasn't done.

Jason scooted closer, his voice softer now—real, stripped of its usual sarcasm and bravado.

"You're not alone in this. You never have to be." His expression softened—not in pity, but in something far deeper. "I care, because... you're someone I want to fight for."

His voice dropped to a near whisper. "You're someone I... care about."

The words landed heavily between you, charged with something undeniable. No bravado. No lies. Just truth.

Your breath hitched, and for a long moment, you couldn't speak—couldn't move.

Jason's sharp eyes softened just a fraction, his expression still guarded—but there was hope there, too, hesitant but real.

The quiet between you felt like its own language—something shared in the stillness of the night.

Without thinking, without planning, you took a shift over, closing the small distance between you. Jason's breath hitched slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction—but he didn't pull away.

Slowly, carefully, you reached up, resting a hand against his chest, feeling the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingers.

And then... you kissed him.

It wasn't hurried or desperate—it was steady, deliberate... grounding. A silent acknowledgment of everything neither of you could put into words.

Jason inhaled sharply, his body stiffening for just a second—but then he melted into it, his hands hovering near your sides as though unsure if he was allowed to hold on—or if he even deserved to.

But he didn't pull away.

For a few long, perfect seconds... nothing else existed.

When you finally pulled back, your breath mingling in the cool air, Jason's eyes stayed locked on yours—stunned, soft, and... open.

You let your fingers linger on his chest for just a moment longer before leaning back, exhaling slowly as reality settled back in.

Jason's voice was rough, barely above a whisper. "...You didn't have to do that."

"I know," you said quietly, your voice steady but soft. "I wanted to."

His lips twitched faintly—almost a smile—but something deeper flickered in his intense gaze... something that meant more than words ever could.

Before either of you could say anything more, you stood up and took step back, turning toward the darkened path leading deeper into the gardens.

Jason's hand almost twitched toward you... but he let you go.

"Goodnight, Jason," you said softly, your voice steady—this time, without fear.

Jason sat there in the quiet stillness, watching you disappear into the shadows of the garden path—still feeling the lingering warmth of your touch and the weight of your words.

And for the first time in a long time... he let himself hope.

The grand dining room of Wayne Manor was bathed in soft morning light spilling through the tall, arched windows. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries drifted faintly through the air, though the table's occupants seemed far too tense to notice.

Bruce stood at the head of the long mahogany dining table, clad in his usual sharp, tailored suit. His commanding presence was as steady and immovable as ever, his intense, calculating gaze fixed on a holographic display projected from a slim tablet resting on the polished surface.

Jason sat a few seats down, leaning back with his arms crossed, his sharp blue eyes flicking between Bruce and the screen with thinly veiled impatience. His leather jacket was still slightly scuffed from the previous night's battle, though he didn't seem to care—or even notice.

Across from him, Tim sat with perfect posture, fingers steepled thoughtfully under his chin, his expression calm but deeply analytical. His mind was clearly already racing through the layers of Bruce's emerging strategy.

Damian stood near the window, his arms folded neatly across his chest, his sharp, calculating green eyes cold but focused. He listened in silence, but there was something guarded in his stance—as if he was waiting for the perfect moment to interject.

And then there was you.

You sat toward the center of the long table, still processing the events of the past few days—the brutal fight with the League, Talia's dark promise, and the revelation of your past as their so-called "Chi Warden." You could still feel the faint hum of power lingering beneath your skin—a constant reminder of what the League wanted you to be... and what you'd refused to become.

Your gaze drifted subtly toward Jason, catching the faint glimmer of something soft in his usually sharp, guarded eyes. His expression was neutral, but there was something there—a quiet, steady reassurance. An anchor.

You exhaled slowly and forced yourself to focus as Bruce cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to the projection.

"We can't eliminate the League as a threat," Bruce began, his deep, commanding voice echoing through the quiet room. "But we can sever their hold on you."

His eyes flicked toward you briefly—not cold, not calculating—just certain.

"They'll keep coming," he continued, adjusting the holographic interface. "But if we dismantle their current leadership structure... disrupt their resources... and cut off their intelligence networks—"

"Talia," Jason interrupted bluntly, his voice rough with frustration. "You mean we need to take her down."

Bruce's expression remained unreadable, though a faint flicker of acknowledgment passed through his sharp eyes. "Talia is the immediate threat... but removing her won't be enough." His voice dropped lower. "The League doesn't stop because one leader falls. They adapt."

Jason scowled, fists tightening against the polished table. "So what—you're saying this could take months? Years?"

Bruce's piercing gaze remained steady. "Yes."

His answer hit the room like a cold, sharp blade. The silence that followed was thick with tension.

Jason shook his head sharply, clearly fighting the urge to explode. "We don't have that kind of time, Bruce."

"We do," Bruce countered firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "But only if we're smart. If we make one wrong move... he pays the price." His gaze flicked toward you, and for a brief moment, you saw something deeper in his expression—responsibility, determination. "We will end this... but we have to do it right."

Jason bit back whatever retort was burning on his tongue, his jaw tightening—but he stayed quiet, for now.

Damian, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his voice cold and precise.

"...Attacking them directly won't work." His tone was sharp, clipped, almost begrudging. "They'll expect it. They'll want you to come after them."

All eyes turned toward him as he stepped closer to the table, his sharp green gaze locked firmly on the projection.

"They know how you operate," he continued, his voice low but steady. "My mother... she'll anticipate every tactic you try." His expression darkened. "She trained me... and she created him." He nodded toward you without even glancing in your direction.

Your jaw clenched slightly at his words, but you held his gaze, refusing to flinch.

Damian's voice lowered even further, quiet but deadly serious. "The only way to beat her... is to be unpredictable. Strike where she doesn't expect it."

Bruce's expression didn't change, though something faint shifted behind his eyes—consideration.

Jason let out a harsh breath, still visibly tense but... thoughtful now.

Tim nodded slowly, processing. "He's... right. If we follow the League's rules, we'll lose." His sharp gaze flicked toward Bruce. "We need to think... differently."

Bruce's mouth tightened slightly, though he didn't argue.

As the room fell back into tense, thoughtful silence, your gaze drifted back toward Jason again. His sharp features were still etched with frustration, his fists clenched against the table—but there was something... softer beneath the anger.

He felt you watching him and slowly lifted his eyes to meet yours—steady, unwavering.

For a long moment, the room, the tension, the plan—it all faded into the background.

His expression softened just slightly—only for you. It wasn't much... but it was enough.

You allowed yourself a small, faint breath—relief, trust.

And then Bruce's commanding voice cut through the air once again, grounding you both back into the mission.

Bruce turned toward you fully, his voice calm but firm. "Until we can neutralize their reach... you stay here. Under our protection."

You bristled immediately, sitting up straighter. "I don't need protection. I've survived this long without you."

Jason opened his mouth—ready to argue—but Bruce raised a hand, silencing him with a single sharp gesture.

"This isn't up for debate," Bruce said coldly, his piercing gaze locking onto yours. "You're not alone anymore. They will come for you... and this time, they won't stop."

Your fists clenched, power flickering faintly beneath your skin—a familiar, dangerous heat.

"I can fight," you growled, your voice rough but certain. "I'm not helpless."

Jason's voice cut through, rough but steady. "We know."

You turned toward him, caught off guard by the certainty in his tone.

Jason leaned forward, his sharp blue eyes burning with quiet determination. "But you don't have to fight this alone. Not anymore."

His words hit harder than you expected, cutting through your defenses like a blade. For the first time in years, you felt something you thought you'd lost—

Hope.

[autisticrosewilson]

What do the other Wilson family members think of Jason?

I assume you're talking about in the context of him being shipped with one of them, I've shipped him with all of them at least once so I'll go down the list! Tell me if you want specifics on a particular ship or au though.

Suggestive content ahead, the Wilson's aren't exactly known for being normal sex havers

If he's dating Slade:

Grant (if he's alive) - Frothing at the mouth mad. He thought Slade was homophobic this whole time. Particularly upset it's Graysons brother. Sidenote: I don't see Slade fighting the Titans without Grant's death as a factor, so Dick would be Grant's nemesis.

Joey (if he's alive) - dating his ex boyfriends brother should be illegal. He used to babysit that little gremlin. Calling his mom to complain. Shaking crying throwing up. Keeps trying to get Jason to find someone else, anyone else.

Rose - HER EX BOYFRIEND ARE YOU BEING REAL. Betrayal on all sides. She gets over it eventually but that doesn't mean she's happy about it. Her brothers - if they're alive - being horrified by it make her warm up to it. She's a menace first and a person second. She's working closely with Dick to break it up though.

Adeline (if she's alive) - Heard about it from Joey, disappointed but not surprised. Sneers at it being a college boy, but after learning more about Red Hood she's mildly interested. She's impressed that anyone would choose to put up with Slade, but as long as he STOPS FUCKING CALLING HER she'll let it be. Could be persuaded into a threesome far, FAR in the future after a couple years with Jason has made Slade more tolerable.

Billy - smug, he TOLD Slade it would be more than just sex but no one ever listens to him. Also extremely tired, part of Slade being more tolerable is that the jobs he's willing to take slim dramatically. He gets huffy about it but he's definitely lowkey salty they haven't asked him to join yet.

If he's dating Rose -

Slade - Canonically their biggest fan. Jason has barely started flirting back with Rose before Slade is acting like he's already Jason's father in law. 50/50 on whether he's genuine or doing it to fuck with people. Shows his approval by challenging Jason to armed combat routinely and inviting him on jobs. Keeps asking when he's getting grandkids.

Grant - over protective but pretends he's not. GRAYSONS LITTLE BROTHER?!? Abhorrent. Is reluctantly bribed by Jason's cooking. Only starts warming up to Jason when he realizes that Jason is like, made of house husband stay at home dad material. Like an hour into a house call informed him that Jason is so hopelessly in love with Rose it's almost pathetic.

Joey - FUCKING FINALLY!! He's been here since day one, plotting, scheming. Carefully manufactured scenarios for them to spend more time together. Best man at the wedding, he wrestled Grant on the ground for it. Video called Dick with TEARS IN HIS EYES to tell him the news.

Billy - Normal father in law. Takes Jason on fishing and hunting trips. Reconnected with Alfred at the wedding and they're both ecstatic. You'd think it would be Slade who'd be gunning for the number one grandpa title and you'd be wrong, Billy is clawing his way to the top of that list.

Addie - Who? What? Oh. Fine. Reluctantly showed up to the wedding. Admittedly charmed by their dynamic. Mildly jealous at the sight of a non failing marriage but she's got enough self awareness not to be upset over it. Leaves the best gift by far, and she does end up trading recipes with Alfred by the end of the night.

If he's dating Grant:

Slade - Not exactly mad, but he is annoyed. He rolls his eyes but looks away when Red X is chasing the second Robin around Gotham, but he draws the LINE at his son giving up mercenary work to be Red Hood's lieutenant. Especially because it looks,,, serious, and serious means he'll be related to the bat sooner rather than later. 98% sure they're doing it to upset him specifically (he's wrong it's only like 25% for that)

Joey - In counter to Dick and Rose, he's actually pretty supportive. He thinks it's cute and he's glad that Grant has a good influence, but he'll be near the front of the line if Grant fucks it up. He's not as supportive about the pining stage they go through, mostly because he's the first person Grant laments to.

Rose - her bestie dating her BROTHER. Disgusted, betrayed, plotting their downfall. Absolutely thinks Jason can do better. She comes around to it faster than Dick only when she's entirely sure she can't do anything about it. Still bullies them both though.

Addie - Well. There are worse options. The real bonus here is her newfound connection with Talia. World's most controlling mother in law, loves Jason like one of her own sons though. Unfortunately that means he gets treated just like her other sons... Quality of the treatment is debatable.

If he's dating Joey -

Slade - Definitely the most upset in this scenario. That's undeniably his favorite kid and Jason... isn't the kind of person he thinks is good enough. Not that he thinks anyone would be. He doesn't go out of his way to drive Jason away per se, but he does put him through the most vigorous "tests". Begrudgingly respects Jason for passing most of them with flying colors.

Addie - Mother hen in law. Planning the wedding since day ONE. What's the equivalent of like, a sister in law but for the mom's of the spouses? Is that a thing? Regardless, she gets very close with Talia very quickly. Bruce Wayne's third biggest hater, she makes his life HELL.

Rose - Better than Grant. Still not happy, but she accepts it more easily. Maid of honor but she swears up and down they're cringe and she hates it. Complains to Dick about it but they're both secretly fond.

Billy - Never booking a hotel without soundproof walls with them again.

[spoilers-ahead]

okay!! now that it’s not 2am for me, i’m going to post my selkie!jason todd hc’s straight up au apparently! 

(uh. this was supposed to just be a list of hc’s but i got slightly,,,, carried away)

his selkie skin looks like an oversized red hoodie in his human form, and is just warm enough to help him survive new england winters.

when the summer heat becomes unbearable, he slings the hoodie around his waist

alternatively, he just coasts it out underwater. perks of living in a coastal city!

willis todd was a selkie. he used to tell jason stories of what it was like to swim through the big, wide ocean. of how freeing it felt. how different it is, from the smoggy, heavy air of gotham --- different, but both theirs, in their own right.

but to be honest, jason doesn’t remember much about the stories he was told, or really, anything about willis --- he had been in and out of blackgate for most of jason’s life, working for two-face to try and make ends meet, before dying. 

what jason mostly remembers, are the warnings. don’t let anybody know you’re a selkie. don’t let anybody find your skin. they will find it, and they will use it to control you. even decades later, jason would still remember those warnings. 

catherine is the one who teaches him how to swim, who helps him trial-and-error his way into putting his skin on, and learn how to make the transition seamless. 

after she dies, jason spends three months as a seal, to just... exist. forget.   

although jason technically lives on the streets, whenever he can;t find food, whenever he can’t find somewhere warm to sleep, whenever just being human becomes too unbearable, he spends the night as a seal. he ends up spending more time in the ocean, than on land.

that’s not to say he’s very good at being a seal --- he barely knows how to swim, has to learn how to fish the hard way. 

when bruce finds jason stealing his car tires, he marvels over how nice jason’s hoodie is, soft and fluffy even after all of jason’s time on the streets, especially given the condition jason is in, ribs showing from malnutrition, and the worn and raggedy shape of the rest of his stuff.

jason is skittish when he goes to live in the manor, even after a few weeks. he always adopts an expression particularly similar to a cornered wild animal around alfred in particular, alfred, who keeps on trying to take his hoodie away, purportedly to wash it.

alfred eventually gives up on trying to force jason to wash it --- he figures that as jason becomes more comfortable living at the manor, he’ll wind up telling them why he’s so protective over that hoodie, and they can work something out then. 

whenever wayne manor overwhelms jason with how big and how decadently expensive all the decor is, jason runs away, run to the ocean. 

jason doesn’t actually end up telling alfred and bruce that he’s a selkie --- bruce just has a ridiculous amount of motion alarms, which are triggered every time jason ran off. he had followed jason the third night, and saw him transform. 

bruce doesn’t tell jason that he knows, assuming that jason kept this a secret because he didn’t fully trust either of them. he would later learn that he was right in this assumption (a rare win for bruce in terms of emotional awareness)

except jason doesn’t fully trust either of them, even after a few months. bruce impulsively decides to do a few things --- a) tell jason about batman and robin and his crime-fighting secret identity, and b) tell jason he already knows about him being a selkie. 

jason is absolutely bamboozled by the fact that bruce knows, and yet hasn’t tried to take his hoodie to control him, or to stop him from playing in the ocean for a few hours. 

in fact, (under alfred’s encouragement) bruce offers to take him to the ocean during the day, so he can get “a proper night’s rest that a growing young boy such as himself would need”

jason remembers what his father told him, to never trust anyone, never let his guard down. but bruce has known about jason being a selkie for so long, and he didn’t take his hoodie or try anything. of course he can trust bruce. 

and when he tries on the robin costume for the first time, it fits perfectly. just like his hoodie, his second skin. it fits just like magic. 

oh, it’s a little loose in some places, the legacy of dick fucking grayson a little heavy sometimes, but he’ll grow into it. he’ll make himself, if he has to. 

also, jason finds the fact that even though he’s a friggin’ selkie, his callsign is a bird (a robin, no less) incredibly ironic and funny 

being a selkie is actually so useful for vigilantehood. the amount of people who talk freely, openly, and loudly about their drug smuggling plans near the ports is quite frankly, ridiculous.

honestly, towards the end of his robin years, jason remains genuinely surprised nobody catches on to him or his tactics yet. bruce is very proud.  

even though jason is safe, has been safe for three years, and trusts bruce with his life, his skin, and everything, old habits are hard to break. so he has his hoodie on when he goes to find sheila. 

and anyways, he wants to see if sheila is a selkie too. he’s taking biology right now, and they’re learning about punnett squares. jason’s never met another selkie before, other than willis who he barely remembers. there’s a possibility that sheila knows something, anything, so he has to try. 

sheila gets a glint in her eyes when jason mentions that he’s a selkie, tells him that while she’s not one herself, she’s familiar with the myth. she has long suspected that willis was a selkie, she tells him, and she’s glad to have confirmation. 

jason positively vibrates with excitement, can’t wait to ask, to pester his mother (mother!) with questions upon questions until. 

until. 

sheila doesn’t do anything after she gives him to the joker. she just smokes and smokes. and she doesn’t tell the joker about his hoodie, despite how it would have been much easier for the joker to destroy him that way. much more painful too.  

small mercies, he supposes, in between hacking coughs that brings blood bubbling up his lips. 

after he dies, his hoodie is ripped and in tatters from the crowbar, with burns along the edges from the bomb. bruce has to carefully peel it off his body. 

when jason was alive, his magic kept the hoodie in perfect condition, always. even when the rest of him was covered head-to-toe in mud, or dripping sludge from the nasty gotham sewers. 

bruce stares at the same hoodie, blood-soaked and mangled, so incredibly dissonant from how he remembered it on jason, when he was bright, whole, and alive. 

he can’t stand it. the hoodie that was so precious to jason, that was jason, at the core of him, in this state. dirty and ripped and devoid of the magic jason had exuded. 

in a moment of desperation, late at night, bruce asks alfred to teach him how to sew. he doesn’t dare to practice on jason’s beloved hoodie --- instead, he starts with the suits in his closet, grabbing the first one he sees, regardless of price. rips a hole and sews it back together over and over until he perfects his technique. 

and then he washes the fabric gently, using baby fabric cleanser and scrubbing for hours upon hours until the last traces of the deep-set brown stain from jason’s blood washes down the drain.

he painstakingly sews the scraps of fabric back together with a red thread, carefully sourced to match the hoodie to try and make it flow seamlessly like it used to. 

it doesn’t work, not exactly. despite his best efforts, the creases bruce had carefully sewn together are prominent and thick like scars, littering the  soft fabric.

so he gives up. he hangs it over the grandfather clock entrance to the cave in his study. brings it with him every time he visits jason’s grave, because he doesn’t ever want to keep jason’s hoodie away from him, but he also can’t bear for it to get ruined. 

dick visits him. a rare occurrence, these days. 

dick yells at him, as he is wont to do. 

these days, it feels like they spend more time angry at each other than not. dick says that this isn’t right. isn’t fair to anybody, not to alfred, not to himself, definitely not to jason. he rants, jason deserves to be remembered as he was in life, not frozen in death. 

perhaps he is right. bruce is not unaware of the state of violent, cutting stasis he is in, this putrefaction of his life. and he is certainly not unaware of how it is affecting the people around him. dick. alfred. the neighbor’s kid, the one who wants to be robin.   

bruce tries. not for himself, but for tim. for alfred, for dick. even for stephanie brown, who sometimes, when she smirks just right, or says something with just the right twang, he swears he can see jason in her. 

he still can’t bear to put the hoodie away, because jason deserved better than to be forgotten, so he folds it gently and places it in his closet instead. 

he also can’t bear to look at it for very long, so he forces himself to every single day. 

it’s different from the glass case that houses robin’s tattered suit in the cave --- that, is a reminder of how he failed robin. this, this is salt in a constant, stabbing, festering would, reminding him of how he failed his son. 

it was stephanie, that eventually helped him figure out what to do with the hoodie. when she was young, young enough to cry at ripped pants and skinned knees, young enough that her mother hadn’t touched the drugs yet, her mother would dry up her tears, give her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before patching her pants up. 

what not many people know, is that before crystal brown set her mind on becoming a nurse, she wanted to be an artist, first. and so she grabs her old set of embroidery needles, and stitched little designs. dogs and cats. stars and planets. tools and gadgets. 

bruce doesn’t react, doesn’t even move, even as stephanie finishes her story. she hangs there awkwardly for a second, stares up at jason’s suit, waiting for him to respond, before shuffling towards the exit of the cave. 

thank you, spoiler, bruce manages to croak out. 

ah, yeah, she says, shrugging lightly while slouching in on herself, any time, boss. she walks out, and bruce watches her go from the reflection on the darkened computer. 

that night, he takes out jason’s hoodie, smooths it out, grabs his threads, and stitches. 

he stitches on constellations, argo navis, for jason’s namesake in the greek myths he had loved so much. a tiny seal, playing with beach balls. little books, with quotes on the sides. a robin, big and bold. 

he tries to make it as true to jason as possible, not just in death and in bruce’s memories, but as he was in life.

jason wakes up abruptly.  

he wakes up in a coffin, cold, alone, and with a gaping hole in his chest. getting dipped in the lazarus pit only made it worse, only made him all the more aware of what he was missing, all the more conscious of it. 

he doesn’t bother trying to learn how to swim with two arms and two legs, instead of two fins and a tail. it doesn’t feel the same. it only reminds him of what he’s lost. 

sometimes, on sleepless nights that happen more often than not, he wonders what would have happened if he still had a hoodie, still could swim. 

if he still was robin. 

and he doesn’t have access to the cave anymore, or to the titan’s tower, or the watchtower, and his memory of the past is still patchy and shitty in some places. 

so in a burst of impulsivity fueled by the person he no longer is, he prints out photos of robin’s costume from the internet and recreates it on his own. 

if his skin is gone, then fine. fine! he’s perfectly perfunctorily aware that nothing about this resurrection of his is natural. if he doesn’t think too much about it, he’ll be alright. his hoodie, his skin, that was something he was born with, a birthright that died with him. 

but robin, robin was something that he helped shape. robin was something that he worked for, changed himself for. 

and the makeshift robin suit --- it doesn’t fit him, not anymore. no, it feels wrong, like a child playing with their parent’s suit. or --- he realizes, perhaps more accurately, like an adult realizing they no longer fit in their favorite clothes. 

and --- and --- what was the point of it all? what was the point, of trying to make bruce proud of him, of getting dick’s approval, of trying to futilely save people over and over again from the same gallery of supervillains who keep on escaping from prison?!

and what was the point of carving out a space for himself if the joker was just going to beat him out of it, and if tim drake was going to insert himself in the hole he left behind?

and then the next thing he knows he’s in titan’s tower hitting tim drake over and over again because who let him? who let him take jason’s role as a son, as a brother, as a hero? how dare he?

but when he’s slit tim’s throat and torn the ‘R’ off his chest, jason doesn’t feel any better. the robin suit still doesn’t fit. his hoodie’s still gone. 

he’s starting to think it never will, not again. 

sometimes, when he gets tired enough to let his mind wander, he wonders what happened to his suit. 

he’s pretty sure he died with it, so either the hoodie is with the joker, batman, or... gone entirely. (it’s not like they found willis’ skin after he died. maybe selkie skins just disappear in a cloud of sea foam once they die, or some little mermaid shit like that)

it’s a cold comfort, that nobody can manipulate him now. nobody can control him --- not even batman. 

(bruce had thought about it. when he first had his suspicious regarding who the red hood was, before he knew there was any trace of the son he once had left. he thought about using the hoodie, using jason’s selkie skin to coerce him, at least to stop murdering people, to stop hurting their family.) 

(he would never go that far, in retrospect, or at least, he doesn’t think he could ever. to do that to jason, betray his trust so thoroughly and completely... but it would be a lie to say that he didn’t consider it.)

bruce reflects on this as jason reveals himself, the joker tied up at his feet with a gun pressed to his head, and venom spitting from his son’s mouth.  

but when he lifts the batarang to hit jason’s gun, or wrist, or anything that’ll force him to drop the gun, he realizes that his hands are shaking. 

and when he throws the batarang, he knows a millisecond after he’s let go, that he’s miscalculated the ricochet. 

so when jason escapes that night, bruce knows he’s fucked up. 

jason goes off the maps, completely. bruce doesn’t know where he is, if he’s safe, if he even made it out of the explosion that night. 

it takes weeks. weeks for bruce to track jason down, from meticulously documenting the dropped threads of where the red hood was pulling strings in the gotham underworld behind the scenes, to tracking security cameras with facial recognition. 

once bruce manages find where he’s staying, make sure he’s safe, he knows what he wants to do. and, he knows what he needs to do. 

jason gets a package in the mail, five weeks after his disasterous meeting with batman and the joker. unmarked, unsigned, no return address. 

when jason opens the box gingerly and carefully, he holds on to his skin for the first time in years. and then, and then, and then --- something right slots into place. his fingers brushed gently over the tiny spotted seal he knows he used to look like, the books he remembered ranting to bruce about for hours on end. 

the robin, on the top left, over his heart, big enough to have changed him, yet small enough to not define him. 

it’s not perfect. it doesn’t even fix anything, not entirely. he still fights with bruce most times he sees him, tries to punch dick in the face, steadfastly ignores tim and steph the entire time. 

but it’s something. it’s something, and the next time nightwing, batman, spoiler, and robin fight a gang on the docks, the red hood gives them a helping hand before jumping back into the ocean and swimming away.

fin!

wow this got long

[tea-and-vodka]

DP x DC AU, Bruce/Danny (if someone knows the ship name *please tell me-*)

Side note: I'm using asterisks (*) to signify italics, because for some reason Tumblr is being annoying about those.

- - -

He never really told anyone about it. No one really remembered but him, Alfred, and the photos they had kept.

Bruce had a friend when he was younger, one who had lived on the streets before moving into the manor.

The two had been practically inseparable.

Yet, as they grew older, they knew that his friend needed to stay away from the cameras and stares that had started following Bruce like mosquitoes.

So, his friend left when they were in their late teenage years. They kept in contact of course, and the two visited. But when the youngest (at the time) Wayne began to get involved with less than legal activities in their twenties, he hid it from his friend.

The rate of their visits slowed down, until it came to a halt. They sent letters, of course, but seeing him in person meant danger. Potentially putting *him* in danger. And Bruce could not let that happen.

- - -

The Batkids all stare in varying levels of confusion, concern, and awe as Bruce becomes visibly flustered.

"Bruce, Darling, it is so nice to see you again!" The man, Danny, says, before kissing Bruce on the corners of his mouth. He holds the billionaire's face in his hands as he tilts his own head to the side, a soft and affectionate look on his face. "I have missed you and Alfred so much! How have you two been?"

Bruce stammers for a moment, not taking his eyes off of the taller man in front of him. "I've, um, been well, thank you. Uh-" He flicks his eyes over to his kids before returning them to Danny as he gestures to the gathered crowd in his entryway. "These are my children! Wo-would you like to meet them?" He blurts out quickly, a smile that he seemed to be desperately fighting on his face.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I want to meet them?" Danny says jovially, turning to the others.

As the man calmly walks over, Cass makes a few observations. His lithe, relatively short body not tense in the slightest, every step seeming purposeful yet not at all thought about, and his eyes flick over everyone in front of him like he's analyzing them. Seeing them like she sees people.

Still smiling, he opens his mouth to speak to all of them, when he freezes. The group tenses, watching as he doesn't take his eyes off of the second eldest brother as his smile falls.

With pain in his eyes, the older man simply breathes out an, "Oh."

Jason stared into Danny's eyes, something akin to grief beginning to show on his face.

"Oh, *Sweetheart.*" Danny said softly, stepping closer to the younger man. He carefully takes his face into one hand, holding him like he may break. "*I'm so sorry.*"

At that, Jason's face metaphorically crumples, tears spilling down his face as Danny feels his [*hurts tired scared angry tired hurts scared h e l p -*]. Danny's thumb rubs his cheek in an effort to soothe the young man, an understanding sadness on his face. In response, Jason lets out a small whimper as he tries to bury his face into the other's hand.

Gently, delicately, despite the sheer size of him, he pulls Jason close, practically curling around him like he's trying to shield him from the outside world. One hand rubs his back, the other curling into his hair as the Bat's face buries itself into his neck, muffling the sounds of sobbing. [*Safe together protect safe comfort soothe safe*]

As the Batfamily watched this happen, most were too caught off-guard and utterly dumbstruck to notice some unusual details.

Cass's eyes squint slightly in suspicion as Danny's toxic green ones close. Weren't those a nearly unnatural blue when she first saw him?

- - -

I'm sorry if this got repetitive; I don't usually beta anything I post!

Essentially, Danny senses Jason's ghostly-ness, and is like, "Who the heck hurt this baby?!" Immediately reaching out with the whole ghost-EM field-thing, Jason's whole world is flipped because he'd been subconsciously trying to reach out that way ever since he got back to Gotham, and had been getting increasingly distressed because no one was understanding what he was communicating.

A few years after he was brought into the manor, Danny had explained to Bruce and Alfred what he is, what happened in Amity Park, how he got deaged, etc., and they accepted him wholeheartedly. *Except*, he left out any and all mention of vigilantism / the bigger enemies that he fought, and went on to working on being the ghost king when he moved out. He doesn't know about the Batfam being the Bats and Birds, and they don't know about him being royalty, nor his vigilante past.

He and Bruce are both very intelligent dumbasses, and do not realize that they have romantic feelings for one another. Alfred is well aware. Is Bruce also dating someone else in this AU? Potentially! It is currently up to interpretation, since I have not thought about who would go well for this scenario. (Although, I do feel like Danny would have beef with Clark because of the whole Connor debacle. Maybe, behind the scenes, Danny adopted Connor, and now Danielle has a brother!)

Also, I'm tired of people being like, "Danny is short! He's only 5'7!" (/lh) It makes me feel short. In this, he is 5'4, and he does not care if this whole ass man is over six foot, he *will* do his best to curl around him and help him feel safe for the first time since he was a teen.

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 31

Part 30

The crowd was filled to the brim. Eddie’s inner circle was seated in the royal viewing box. Eddie wasn’t there yet though. Because of course he had to make an entrance. As a great black bird, he flew over the venue, his cry echoing through the field. He landed in the center of the arena in an explosion of black shadows as he took his human form to the cheers of his subjects. 

“Dearest people of the land!”, he addressed. “We have gathered to settle the dispute between two men. But before I introduce them, let me settle the rumors. I am indeed courting Steven of the house Harrington.”

There was a hushed murmur among the audience. So it was true. Their king was trying to gain the favor of a prince from a country that had until recently been challenging their borders. The people had chalked up the lull in activity to the usual break when the demobeasts went into hibernation. But could it have been because of this? Eddie wouldn’t reveal that Steve had been taken hostage and had turned into a ward of his castle. That was Steve’s story to tell should he wish it. Eddie would only say what his people deserved to know.

“That brings us to today. For one man has sullied the names of us both and my intended requires satisfaction.” He was beaming, happy to have someone who burned with a righteous fury for him.”Without further ado! Our combatants!” He gave a sweeping bow to applause as Jason and Steve entered from opposite sides of the arena.

“Jason Carver has laid down words that he refuses to take back. Steven Harrington has thrown down the challenge. What are the terms?”

“Apologize to your sovereign and swear fealty, or meet your end at my hand”, Steve said, expression hard and unforgiving.

“I will do no such thing. And when you yield to me, your only path will be banishment”, Jason replied, face just as stern.

The clasped arms and then turned to go back to opposite ends of the arena. Eddie floated over to the viewing box and waited for both of them to grab their weapons of choice. Jason picked up a sword and shield, a classic decision. When he turned to meet Steve’s gaze, he could see that the prince’s choice wasn’t quite as common.

Steve went without a shield. And grasped tightly in both hands instead was a war hammer. The staff stopped just short of his shoulder, the head about twice as large as his own. The rod ended with an iron counterweight. Eddie looked to Lucas.

“Has he been training with that this whole time?”

“He’s a pro”, Lucas praised.

Dustin’s whole mouth showed with his smile. “Carver is about to get tenderized like a steak.”

“A brutish weapon befitting a barbarian”, Jason said, more to the crowd than to Steve.

Steve’s expression didn’t change as he got in his stance and waited for Eddie to officially start the bout. Eddie stood from his seat, his voice reverberating through all in attendance as he shouted.

“BEGIN!”

Jason did catch Steve a little off guard when he lunged first, closing the distance between them. With the kind of weapon Steve was wielding, most would keep away. But he could guess as to why Jason wanted the first blow. He wanted this to be quick and decisive. Anyone would fold with a few well placed cuts and stabs.

He was probably also hoping to tire Steve out. Steve would make sure it wasn’t so easy for him. When Jason lunged, he stepped out of the way and swung his hammer. Jason raised his shield to take the blow and blocked it well, but his eyes popping said he hadn’t been expecting the power behind it.

Jason re-evaluated, taking a step back. And where he retreated, Steve would advance, making wide swings that had Jason backing up even more.

Eddie’s hands were clenched into fists in his lap. He had caught Steve training Lucas a couple times and sure he took things seriously, but it was a master putting a student through his trials. Eddie hadn’t been allowed to view Steve’s personal training this week. But he’d seen knight after knight tending to their bruises. If he’d been able to watch Steve then, was this the sight he would’ve seen? Steve moving like both a dancer and a predator, his hammer his loyal partner.

The hollers of the kids told him that even this was different than what they had seen. He imagined Steve wouldn’t attack his knights with the ferocity he was meeting Jason with. At one point, Steve slammed it down and Jason just barely jumped out of the way. When Steve pulled it back up, Eddie could see the dent in the ground. A hit in the right place and broken bones would be the least of Jason’s worries.

Then Steve stopped his onslaught, taking a breath as he circled Jason. When he started again, Jason raised his shield to each attempt, seemingly blocking them all. 

“He’s gonna turn Carver’s arm to paste”, Nancy commented.

Part of the crowd was raising their voices in cheer for Jason, unable to see what Nancy’s eyes did. Steve kept going for Jason’s left side, wanting him to use his shield. Because while it stopped him from hitting Jason’s entire body, it still took the brunt force of the hammer coming down on it. And that was evident as each time his arm was slower and slower to rise.

Tired of being on the defensive, Jason lowered his shield to jab at Steve. He managed to get a few knicks in, going for Steve’s head each time and giving him cuts on his neck and face. Eddie’s leg bobbed anxiously. He didn’t think Steve would lose. The only question was how much damage would he take before claiming victory.

The crowd wasn’t sure what to make of Steve, many recognizing him from dominating the spring games but not knowing his true identity then. In a shocking move, Jason dropped his shield and threw his sword at Steve. He dodged and it lodged itself into the ground, but that confusion was enough of a distraction for Jason to tackle him to the ground. The staff of the hammer stood between them, both men pushing on it.

“Forfeit and all will be forgiven”, Jason said. “We will wed and this can all be forgotten. I’ll make an honest man out of you.”

“What?”

“You know I’m the right choice.”

With a roar, Steve pushed Jason off and rose up to his knees. “You’re vile and I’m going to end you.” he set his hammer, head side down and grabbed the sword Jason had been using. He tossed it back to him, waiting for him to pick it up.

When Jason did, Steve picked up his hammer again. This time he didn’t hold back. He advanced, forcing Jason to make fruitless slashes. Steve used the end of his hammer to knock Jason’s wrist, forcing him to drop the sword. He could see the fear in Jason’s eyes but didn’t let up. His next strike was with the head of the hammer, getting Jason right in the leg and making him fall to the ground. 

Steve stood over him, hammer poised to strike. But he paused to look at Eddie, his shoulders rising and falling as he panted. 

Eddie’s eyes had been glued to Steve’s form. As had everyone else’s. But at this pause, the crowd hushed, waiting for their king’s decision. Would he smile with grace on the Carver boy? Or would he approve his execution?

Eddie stood up. “He is at your mercy, Your Highness.”

It had been so long since anyone had referred to Steve like that. With any sort of respect or reverence for his title. He looked down at Jason, imagined his head cracking like a melon and the crowd cheering for him. The rightful order restored. He slammed his hammer down, splitting the ground under it, but not Jason’s head.

“You live by the grace of me”, Steve said, picking his hammer up and raising it above his head to thunderous cheers.

Jason was stationary on the ground until people came to gather him and check over his wrist and leg. 

Eddie jumped out of the box and ran right to Steve, grabbing his free hand and lifting it up. “Our champion!”

Steve was able to deposit the hammer with one of those employed by the castle’s armory and Eddie walked him out of the arena. Once out of sight from most of the crowd, Eddie scooped Steve up and Steve let him, exhausted from the fight.

“You were magnificent, a vision, unstoppable. Like a divine spirit of justice incarnate. Poets could spend ages trying to capture your excellence in words and would fail to do so.”

“Oh but I’m certain you’ll try”, Steve teased as Eddie carried him back to his tent to be tended to and freshen up. There were games scheduled for the small folk and for children as well. No need to let this good weather and arena only see one bout today.

When Steve rejoined the public, it was on the arm of the king and to his viewing box where all who could see observed their lord and ruler feed this mighty warrior by hand. And Steve had been right about Eddie trying his damndest to capture his feats in writing. Because just the next day, he awoke to about half a dozen love letters all about the previous day’s fight.

Part 32

Taglist CLOSED

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[violettavonviolet]

Percy Jackson fic rec's

All fics are finished and amazing! The word count goes up as it goes, all fics are completed, I've added the ships and ratings but do make sure to read the tags!

Fic's marked with a star haven't left my brain since I read them

Deep Sea Fury

HumbleservantofHypnos

Summary:

Someone stabbed Tyson’s eye, and Percy is unable to stop himself from going unhinged.

Nemesis had talked to him, whispered in his ear that the rule should be the same for everyone. An eye for an eye.

1.8k gen

Percy's Questers' Quests

WardofWinters (QoLife)

Summary:

Hi! I’m Percy of Questers Quests, where all Quests are dedicated to Kronos the Titan of Time, what can I do for you today? Mhm, okay, I understand, yeah we can do that, do you have any questions? -oh why do we dedicate our Quests to Kronos? Well, that’s because I’m sick and tired of my relatives harassing me. Anyways! We’ll have that Quest done for you by the end of the week, thank you for your business!

3.5k Genfic

Blood in the Wine *

mrthology

Summary:

���It’s a good thing that father of yours is so protective of you,” Dionysus said, joining the demigod on the beach the next night, looking cautiously out to the lapping waves to gauge his uncle’s mood.

The demigod blinked, eyes bright despite the lack of light.

Dionysus ignored his surprise and studied the demigod carefully, noting the faint hint of gold exuding from his skin.

Ah. Well then.

He could remember noting the same sheen to his own skin millennia ago now. Jackson was on the precipice of something, and only time would tell if it were madness or greatness.

——

Percy’s on the edge of something. Dionysus notices, even if Percy doesn’t want him (or anyone) to.

4.5k Percy/Dionysus

A Godly Quest

CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Summary:

Paul is like… eighty percent sure that some of Percy’s so-called "quests" are all one big hoax. He isn’t able to prove it until he goes to Taco Bell at three in the morning.

5k gen

Sand Dollar Child

withay

Summary:

There's far too much divinity in Percy Jackson. It oozes from him, to the point where he's sometimes mistaken for Poseidon. Percy doesn't know this yet. All he knows is that this nereid is asking to borrow five drachmas.

6.4k percabeth gen

Of All That Breathe and Crawl Across the Earth

mrthology

Summary:

"All of you demigods are bred for war, for me," Ares said. "That's just a fact of life." He took another drag of his cigar, then snuffed it out on the bricks near Jackson's ear. "You're chess pieces to move as we want, and nothing more."

Jackson laughed, his voice echoing in the small alleyway in a way no mortals should. "I'm surprised you even know what chess is," he snapped. He grinned, all sharp teeth and eyes that saw far too much. "I thought that was more Athena's area. You're just carnage."

Ares tightened his grip, wanting to see the boy squirm. Jackson reminded him of someone from millennia past, a Hero still loved by the ages. Ares wished he could place who.

—

Ares takes notice of Percy Jackson. Even he isn't sure if it's a good thing, not when his very presence seems to bring back memories of things best left forgotten.

8k ares/percy mature

I know the end

Ghxst_Bird

Summary:

Ever since Tartarus there’s been something… strange about Percy. They all know it, they’ve all seen it. Obviously the gods know about it, too, but they’re about as helpful about it as Charybdis in a swimming pool.

Nico just hopes Percy will stop glaring at everyone who looks at Nico or Jason the wrong way… and preferably tell his godly relatives to not threaten doom on them all every time Percy so much as scrapes his knee.

8.3k genfic, percy&nico&jason

Get Under Your Skin Just Like A Bomb That's Ready To Blow

ashilrak

Summary:

“That was a mistake,” Ares says, walking beside him. “You’re not one to abandon your post. This is going to eat at you.”

Just like every other time he’s spoken with Ares, Percy is vibrating with anger. How dare Ares tell him what’s best for him. At his sides, he tightens his hands into fists tight enough he’s sure he’s drawn blood.

“What’s it to you?” he spits out.

“You’ve got war in your heart, boy,” Ares says. Percy can’t see his eyes because of his sunglasses, but he’s sure they’re glowing red like charcoal. “I can taste it.”

—

Or: Percy's struggling without a war looming over him, and who better to help him find his purpose than the God of War?

9k Ares/Percy explicit

What’s in a Name?

anxious_tofu

Summary:

Percy didn’t realize at the time that when his boyfriend came up to him one Friday afternoon with his coffee order in hand and a nervous grin on his face it was the beginning of the end. 

After six months of dating, Apollo brings Percy to meet his family. This proves to be a mistake.

-----

All human/meet the family AU. Crack taken too seriously/ attempt at humor.

10.2k perpollo teen

The Burden of Our Mortal Misery *

mrthology

Summary:

“Get up,” Dionysus ordered.

Percy ignored him. As they always did, memories of Tartarus crept back, a hold on him that never quite left. Falling, falling, falling. Always falling, never quite clawing his way back to the surface.

Dionysus hauled him to his feet, hands a burning brand.

Percy panted and met his eyes, barely able to stand under the force of the god's divinity. He wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about the myths, why people loved and worshipped the gods and feared them in turn. Percy had never seen them as people to revere and love. They were cruel; petty. They had done nothing but treat Percy like a pawn in their schemes, then thrown him to the proverbial wolves once they’d been done with him.

But he thought he was beginning to understand. He felt tiny before Dionysus, insignificant. It was more of a comfort than Percy wanted to admit.

“What’s happening to me?”

—

Percy had left something of himself down in Tartarus, and he didn’t think he’d ever get it back. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

12k Percy/Dionysus teen

The Drowned God

robindrake93

Summary:

It's Hermes job to summon all of the gods to the summer solstice meeting...and that includes the newest one: Percy Jackson. From that moment on, Percy's life changes forever. Again.

17k Percy/Hermes mature

Walking Backward Into My Own Myth

mrthology

Summary:

"You should have ascended years ago," Zeus said without preamble, looking down at Percy. The other Olympians, even his father, remained silent, watching the proceedings with uncharacteristic solemnity.

"I said no years ago," Percy snapped, rage making his voice tremble and hands shake. "I didn't want to be a God then, and I want to even less now. I've seen how horrible eternity is."

"You would defy the fates themselves?" Athena asked softly, leaning forwards with narrowed eyes. She looked more godly than Percy had ever seen her, to the point where it was nearly unbearable to look at her face. Percy did so nevertheless, glaring at the Goddess he'd lost almost all respect for.

"You had children die today," he snapped, desperate to return to Camp. "Annabeth could still die—hasn't she done enough?"

———

Or, Percy keeps living the same horrible day over and over and over again, regardless of what he does. Eventually, something will have to give. Percy just isn't sure what.

19k  gen

Until you break, until you yield

Sappho_of_Space

Summary:

Despite everything that Percy did for the gods, he was still being used as a pawn. When an opportunity arises that Zeus can't ignore, Apollo will stop at nothing for his lover to return to his arms.

If people die in the process, that's not his problem.

27.4k Perpollo

Set in Stone *

CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Summary:

“Find Medusa?” Percy spluttered, trying and failing not to sound indignant. “Nobody wants to find Medusa. You run into Medusa while trying to retrieve your uncle’s stolen lightning bolt and then mail her head to the gods after she keeps talking about how your eyes are like your father’s.”

From behind him, Piper raised a single finger. “When you mail what to whom?”

Percy glanced over his shoulder to give her a shrug. “Don’t worry about it. I was twelve,” he said before turning back to where Gabe was still fighting against the ropes binding his hands together. “Do you have any idea what to do with him?”

Nico leaned over, craning his neck to better peer at the hot sauce that still stained Gabe’s face despite the years of statue-ification. “Um, we could see if your dad wants to turn him into a fish or something?”

Percy grimaced. If Gabe Ugliano was a fish, then he’d be forced to hear the man’s voice in his head for years to come. But also, he could maybe mount him on a wall, so perhaps it wasn’t an entirely terrible idea.

Or

Medusa’s sculptures are mysteriously coming back to life. Percy doesn’t think murder is an unreasonable action given the circumstances.

38k gen abuse via Gabe

Fishing in Alaska *

CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Summary:

“This… this would qualify as a mental breakdown, right?” Triton asked, frowning over his shoulder to where Percy was still fuming in the corner. The lady at the counter curiously glanced over before lifting a questioning brow. “My brother – half-brother, technically, I have much better breeding – decided to run away from home to where our father can’t reach him and now he won’t leave. And now I can’t leave unless he leaves,” Triton continued. Percy opened his mouth to object that wasn’t what happened at all, but the tyrant only waved a hand to silence him. “He’s seen war or whatever, so if you could maybe just drug him then I’ll throw him into a suitcase and we can be out of here by the Summer Solstice!”

Silence. Finally, the woman cleared her throat and turned to Percy.

“I’m guessing he’s the one you want checked into the mental hospital?” She asked. Triton gasped as Percy punched the air in victory.

“Aha!”

Or

Getting in trouble works a little differently when your parent is an all-powerful god. Sometimes you have to escape to the land beyond gods and get your immortal brother turned human to drag you back so you can be exploded a million pieces. You know, normal teenage stuff.

112k gen Percy&Triton

The Hero Unsung

SomePsychopomp

Summary:

“Oh gods,” Percy thought, “I got fucking isekai’ed.”

---

Thrown back in time and tossed onto the scorching shores of ancient Greece, Percy becomes the unwilling center of attention for an entire army. One destined to sail for Troy and wage a ten year war. If only they could appease the gods keeping them far from their destination first…

Meanwhile, Percy will have to make allies fast while navigating a pantheon of deities who have not yet been tempered by time. Because here, it’s not just the kings who have taken a terrible interest in him; Percy will soon learn just how painful the attention of a god can really be.

135k percy/achilles/patroculus

HAUNT ME, THEN— *

ashilrak, mrthology

Summary:

Percy collapsed once he reached the porch and looked up to a rickety ceiling fan. A moth darted around the light, drawing his attention. It was easier to focus on it than on what had happened. His mom, the strange recollections that dogged the edges of his memory, Grover, everything.

A stern and familiar man looked down at him, concern and apprehension written across his face.

“Hello, Kassandra.”

———

Or, when Apollo cursed Kassandra before the Trojan War, it didn’t go as planned. Now, millennia later, Apollo and Kassandra are still stuck in an endless cycle of death and rebirth. Percy Jackson doesn’t know why people keep calling him Kassandra, or why he’s plagued by memories; all he knows is that he didn’t want to be a demigod.

270k perpollo & Percy& Will

[littleredwing89]

DESIRE [PART ONE]

Dom!Jason Todd x Sub!Reader

Summary: “Princess…”, he rumbled in his dark velvet voice. It sent an erotic thrill down your spine. “I've missed you Jason”, you slinked over to him on your hands and knees, rising up and pressing your face against his thick thigh.

Warnings – Language. Smut. NSFW. Dom/Sub theme. Oral.

A/N: Sorry this took so long my little beauties, hopefully the fire will make up for the wait. 😈 Enjoy & thank you all for your continued support and beautiful messages - means a lot to me 💞 xoxo @offendedfishnoises thanks for your help with this huni

————

The coarse fibers of the rug scratched against your delicate knees. When you swallowed, the leather collar inlaid with satin rubbed seductively against your feminine throat. The collar, black leather with a silver ring on the front reminded you of your place. It didn’t choke you or leave any marks. Jason liked to mark you in other ways.

You knelt before the front door for about 15 minutes. Your skin was sensitive with goosebumps of expectancy. The door knob clicked and twisted causing your breasts and lower stomach to tingle. Jason walked in wearing his charcoal grey suit with black shoes, his red tie loosened at the neck. He looked down and smiled, his handsome face taut with a sour frown from the day faded once he saw you.

He liked it when you waited for him on your knees wearing nothing but the lingerie he bought you and the collar for your play.

You were wearing sheer black panties and a matching bra adorned with lace that lifted your assets to make them more enticing with an ample cleavage. You could feel Jason's eyes on your breasts, your nipples grew stiff, poking against the sensual fabric.

“Princess…”, he rumbled in his dark velvet voice. It sent an erotic thrill down your spine.

“I've missed you Jason”, you slinked over to him on your hands and knees, rising up and pressing your face against his thick thigh. The fine fabric was cool yet you could feel the heat of his skin radiating beneath your cheek. The masculine power pulsed from his muscles. You could feel your core dampening with anticipation.

“Did you now?”, Jason patted your head as you inched closer to his burning crotch. You could make out the outline of his hardening cock. You could even smell the earthy musk of him. Your insides quivered.

“Or was it my cock you missed?”.

You rubbed your face into his crotch, feeling it throb and swell, smiling at the small groan Jason made as you gently mouthed the outline of the thick shaft though his slacks. Dry mouthed, you licked your lips and swallowed. Excitement dancing like live wires through your veins.

“Both”, you hummed and looked up at him with an impish gleam in your eyes.

Your fingers were practiced in this ritual of yours but still they trembled. You unbuckled and unzipped his slacks as he leaned against the door. You looked up at him, asking for permission with your big eyes. His features go from tired relief to dark sensuality. Hunger blazing in his eyes. His fingers tenderly threaded through your hair, raking over your scalp.

To anyone it would look like a man with his loyal pet. But even a stranger could sense the bond Jason and you share. The animal magnetism, the dark sexuality were often felt but also the deep love.

“Go on princess”, he murmured huskily.

You pulled out his swelling cock. Your mouth watered instantly at the sight, banishing the dryness from before. You needed it in your mouth but you moved slowly. Your hands caressed his shaft lightly, feathery touches savoring the satin, smooth feel of it. The virile warmth. You occasionally gave it a slight squeeze when you wrapped your small hands around it.

It grew harder as Jason's breathing became deeper. His breath caught when you planted a light yet loving kiss at the weeping crown. Your strokes became firmer, bolder. The hot, velvet skin moving with your clenched fist, hot and throbbing.

You released his shaft, watching it bob before you, starting, you used only your mouth. Your tongue rolled along the sensitive underside of his shaft. Your stroke light. Your kisses fragile. You absorbed his earthy scent. His distinct male taste, spice burning your lips and tongue but salty and addictive. You loved how Jason's cock throbbed against the flat of your expert tongue. You wanted it to fill your mouth so bad. But once more you controlled yourself, taking your mouth away despite Jason's gentle grip in your hair to get you back. You replaced your mouth with your hands, smiling up at him, you see he is only slightly appeased.

Your hands take turns stroking it. The tortured flesh twitches in your delicate palm. Taking two hands you rubbed the thick girth between them, blowing gently across the tip and smiling as Jason pushed his hips forward, trying to get his cock into your mouth. He growled in warning. His fingers tightened their hold in your hair, burning your scalp but that only made your pussy throb with a hot wet twinge. You decided not to tease your Jason too long. You could tell he’d had a hard day.

Keeping one hand moving in a sensual rhythm up and down his cock, you kissed the tip allowing the thick crown to fill your mouth, your tongue gently lapping the satin tip. You moaned at the same time Jason did, the sound making your nerves thrum. Him from the sensations of the inviting warmth of your mouth and you from finally having him inside you.

Your pussy was dripping, coating your thighs in a silky liquid, your knees red from the continuous scrapes of the coarse rug. Your tongue swirled around his cock, sweeping up the bitter sweet taste of Jason's pre-cum.

You took him deeper into your mouth, keeping your tongue strokes silky and delicate. Further, until his crown hit the back of your throat. Gagging you pulled back but only temporarily, tears pricking at your eyes. Jason appreciated your efforts to deep throat him even though you didn’t always succeed. The excess saliva and his pre-cum made his cock slicker. You moaned and sucked, your fist twisting up and down, following your lips that sealed tightly around his thickness.

Jason's body rippled with the building of his climax. His fingers bit into your scalp. Your clit was swollen with erotic thrills, throbbing as it stroked against your panties. Electricity passed between you both as you came to the edge. Your tongue flicked rapidly at the tender underside of his cock and your lips tightened their seal, your hand moving faster until Jason's body arched off the door, a groan vibrating through his bones.

You moaned at the splashes of his cum as they hit your tongue, spurting in your mouth and you swallowed it greedily, in love with his bittersweet taste. You hummed softly, allowing Jason’s erratic breathing to be brought under control. You rested your head on his thigh, looking up at him hazily whilst keeping his cock between your lips. Just holding it, careful not to aggravate his overly sensitive tip. His fingers lessened their grip, now affectionate, running his rough, calloused fingers through your hair that was mussed by his urgency to come.

“How was your day, princess?”, he asked softly, a slow lazy smile chasing that earlier frown from the corners of his seductive mouth. His fingers gently passed over your ear to play with your collar.

You pulled off his deflating cock with a loud obscene pop and looked up at him sighing, “Boring…just the same as always”, you licked the corner of your mouth to get a stray drip of his seed.

Jason removed his tie and jacket as you stood up and told him about your day. He reached for you from behind, pulling you firmly against him, your ass grinding into his softened cock as he nuzzled your neck. He breathed your perfume deeply as if he has been in a smog all day and finally has a catch of crisp country air.

“Pizza for dinner?”, he asked absently against your throbbing pulse. His mouth's persuasive heat made you shiver.

“I’ll call the diner to deliver while you change”, you told him quietly, almost jumping when his hand caresses your highly sensitive breasts. Your nipples pebbled in their cups at the heat they felt through the thin lace from Jason's clever fingers, “But only if you go now and not distract me”.

Jason pouted but tasted your throat with one long lick. He released you with a goodbye pat on your ass whilst you picked up the phone to dial Pauli’s Diner.

————

[brucewaynehater101]

Hello I just graduated!! YIPPIEEEE :>>

That's why I have been thinking of AU for Tim! In my spare time that is.

The idea is that whenever Tim is shocked or angry his face would be blank as if there were no expressions in the first place. Inside his eyes, and the vitality/lifelessness on that face looks like he's already facing death so many times that he isn't surprised anymore.

Many people would've been scared but him? He doesn't think his expression is a problem because when he was little he always hides his emotions by suffocating himself to repress his feelings deep and deeper till he can't feel anything anymore. This continues to the present where the time that Bruce or anyone angers Tim, they can finally see how broken he is and yet they didn't realize that Tim has been broken so many times and buried himself into the ground till his oxygen gone just like his emotions.

They should have known.

"That" expression they have been seeing is also caused by themselves.

CONGRATS 🎉 🎊

Hmm ~ As far as the Tim au/hc, it sounds like forced apathy to me that evolved into a coping mechanism. For him, that would make sense. If he's constantly having to hide or disregard his own feelings, he may end up feeling nothing.

The dense nothingness would become a void that consumes both positive and negative feelings and would also envelop him. As someone who wasn't allowed to express anger when I was younger, apathy is a bastard to battle with.

This could tie into some of the hc ideas that people refer to Tim as a "robot" or "android" due to his difficulties with expressing emotions, excited, sad, or otherwise. That, or he got skilled at pretending to be okay and happy until he was too tired to anymore (probably after all that grief and death in his life).

We can also add on that, in this AU, he would essentially "shut down" whenever he felt angry or anger was expressed to him. His face would become impassive, and his eyes would look dead.

Bruce, for the longest of time, didn't notice. He was lost in his grief and anger after Jason died. It was a relief that Tim just stood there and listened to his lectures instead of yelling or fighting back (Tim would get revenge or be petty later when Bruce wasn't expecting it. He was also more subtle about his retaliation).

Alfred, in this AU, is both a neutral party and also keeps a professional distance from the child that isn't even a Wayne ward. He's kind and caring, but cool. It's not his business that Tim's eyes occasionally become lifeless as long as Tim is relatively okay.

Dick is also a bit blinded by his grief and how similar Tim looks to Jason. The stark differences in personalities are both soothing and painful. He cares for Tim, but the kid is also great at lying. After Dick making one comment about it, Tim works hard to hide it from the older man.

This habit of Tim to repress his emotion (especially his anger and sadness) came from his parents. Part of it was due to his parents never being home. Any time they were, he didn't want to ruin their visit by bringing down the mood. Time with them was so little. There were also the comments his parents made about how disappointed or upset they were when Tim wasn't showing a happy demeanor. They'd also get pissed if Tim dared showed his anger because he's "a kid who doesn't know anything" and is "so ungrateful." Lovely stuff.

As the years went by with Tim as Robin, his ability to hide the void slowly diminished.

[phantoms-lair]

Recovery Girl better sleep with one eye open

Continues from here

It took him a bit longer than he wanted to get back to the kids, but he didn't think it would help their peace of mind for him to show back up covered in blood. But he had made absolutely sure Overhaul was not getting up again. The remains were being brought to a crematorium he'd bribed for disposal purposes. Not even enough left for a Pit to revive. He was glad to see several of his men still there, on the outside and more in the interior.

They were guarding the kids. Good.

Eri had fresh bandages, and they were placed locally, rather that covering half her arms and legs. it seemed her injuries were more on her wrists and elbows. Her legs were bare, showing old scarring and not fresh wounds. Maybe an incentive not to run? Hood regretted not killing Overhaul more slowly.

The boy had his gloves off and his hands were mangled. "Did Overhaul do that to you?" Hood growled.

Deku shook his head. "No sir." he answered in English. Jason mentally kicked himself for forgetting to talk to the kid in his own language. "My quirk used to break me. It still does if I push it too far. Eri's power in the only reason I was able to use so much and not be injured." He smiled brightly at the small girl next to her."

"Your own power did that you?" Dr. Thompkins asked softly.

"Yeah," Deku ducked his head. "I'm sorry and I'll try to be a lot better about it. I have gotten better, it's just Overhaul was so overwhelming, if I didn't go all out I would have died and Eri would have died, and I'm not being reckless, really I promise I'm doing my best." Try as he did to hold them back, tears sprang unbidden from his eyes.

Eri reached over and hugged him, looking warily between Hood and Leslie. Right, she probably didn't speak English and had no clue what was happening.

"Hey, Kiddo, breathe." Hood used his gentlest victim voice. "You did good. You saved Eri. You were no more reckless than anyone else who puts on a costume, got it?"

"I'm sorry, I really am trying." He wrapped his arms around Eri, rubbing her back comfortingly.

"Who said you weren't trying." Hood said, keeping his tone light, but the moment the words left his mouth they suddenly felt heavier. Because that was it, wasn't it. Kid had had a major victory tonight, even if Hood had dealt the finishing blow, but rather than celebrate like the Titan would have his first instinct was to plead that he's done his best and was putting effort into what he was doing. Someone had told this kid he wasn't good enough. Frequently.

"Well it's true, isn't it? I need to be better. Aizawza-sensei said my not being able to control my quirk is an excuse and I need to be better. And Recovery Girl, our school nurse (she's got a quirk that can fast heal anyone's injuries just by kissing them, it's so cool), got so fed up with me she said she wouldn't heal me anymore if I hurt myself with my quirk."

"She said WHAT!"

Hood had thought he'd seen all the different flavors or tired, overly annoyed, and frustrated Dr. Thompkins had. He'd not seen this one before. He could see her pupils constrict, her breathing quicken, and suddenly wanted nothing more than to get out of her way.

"She said her healing me was enabling me in being reckless, so she wouldn't be a part of it anymore." Deku said softly, as if he was ashamed and not the so-called nurse.

"Did she offer you any resources to help you?" Leslie pressed.

"Resources?" Deku looked confused.

Leslie exhaled deeply. "Hood, Eri has been very sheltered and her immune system is not used to Gotham. I know you center around Crime Alley, but if you have any safe houses in upper middle class areas or better yet out of Gotham, that would be preferably till she recovers more fully." Leslie than switched to Spanish. "And when you find a way back to where ever they're from, let me know."

"What makes you think I'm letting either of them go back?" Hood responded in kind, once he confirmed Deku didn't seem to understand what she had said.

"They're not. I am." Dr. Thompkins was resolute. "I have a 'school nurse' I need to have some words with."

[superawesome40]

Wayne Children Timeline Update

Okay, so I’ve hit a standstill on the timeline. I’ve got (most) significant not-hero-related details worked out (I think???) and I’m working on education/jobs right now, but there is SO MUCH from canon that I could pick from, and I’m honestly a bit overwhelmed. Anyone want to help me out?

Enjoy me spiraling into madness as I attempt to introduce the events that I’m probably going to include:

Dick

The Slade/Deathstroke story line, probably heavily warped to fit the storyline.

Talon/The Court of Owls. I love those funky dudes, but I admit I only really know them ‘cause of the rhyme.

Spyral? Maybe? Honestly I have NO IDEA what Spyral is at all, and I’ll need to investigate more.

I’m on the fence about including the whole Catalina Flores storyline. I’ve heard about it in passing, but I haven’t actually done any research into it yet. It’s a VERY sensitive topic, and I don’t want to mishandle anything, especially if I ever get around to writing stories set within this universe.

I think Dick being a cop at some point is really, really funny, so I might have him join the Bludhaven (Blüdhaven?) PD for a bit? So he can take them down from the inside or something. He quits after like. Two years.

Jason

The Catherine Todd/Sheila Haywood/Willis Todd… situation.

Whacking the scary man with a tire iron (was that one ever even a question? Of course I’m including it)

League bodyguard for baby Damian (I’m pretty sure this one is fanon, but it’s my AU, I do what I want!!!)

Heads in a duffle bag

Titans Tower attack.

I’ve heard something about magic fire swords maybe, but I’m not sure.

This is making me realize I know… very little about what Jason got up to after his revival.

Cass

Huh. I don’t really have anything to put here? I know next to nothing about Cass outside of her involvement in the Batfam. Send help.

No like actually. What does she do? I love her character, but this post is making me realize that I don’t actually KNOW them.

Tim

Stalker baby stalker baby stalker baby stalker baby

Joker Jr.! I dunno, I really like the idea of JJ being like a completely different entity who lies dormant in Tim’s head and pops up from time to time? It inspired a story where Tim has several versions of himself living up in his head. I invented an entire disorder for it: Fragmented Personality Disorder. Probably won’t be a thing in this AU, but either way. JJ is DEFINITELY happening.

Young Justice is morally gray at best and they try very hard to pretend like they aren’t. (Young Justice is actually the only comics I’ve read, and I’ve only read up to like. Issue # 6 so far. I love my little dudes so much.)

Off topic, but will someone explain coffee Tim vs. energy drink Tim? Can’t he just combine the two with an ass load of sugar and call it a day?

Spleen.

Highest kill count. Don’t care if it’s canon. He has the highest kill count, he’s not sorry, and he WILL do it again.

I don’t know why the idea of Conner, Cassie, Tim, and Bart running around space completely unsupervised is so funny to me, but it is. Is it canon? Don’t ask me, I have no idea. Is it in this AU? Absolutely.

Again. What does he get up to? Robin era, Red Robin era, anywhere? Anything significant happen? At all???

Duke

Uhhhhhhhh.

I know about his parents. That’s definitely happening.

We Are Robin? What is We Are Robin? Is it pre-Batfam? Post-Batfam?

Wait was he Signal before or after he was a Bat?

Is he a Bat?

I COULD do my research. Or I could do the lazy thing and make you all do it for me :)

Damian

This is the little bastard that dragged me kicking and screaming into the DCU. This is all his fault.

Fun fact! I hated anything and everything to do with DC purely because I was introduced to Marvel first. I thought it was dumb, and poorly written, and a cheap knock off of Marvel. This was back when I only knew about like, Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman. I didn’t even know that the Flash was DC at this point. Then I found out about Damian and… well, it all spiraled from there.

So anyways, let’s see.

Killed by the Heretic? Yup.

Metal spine? Absolutely.

Dick Grayson’s Robin? Without a doubt.

Hmmm what else…

What happened in Super Sons?

Uh

What did he get up to with the Titans (?) That was a thing, right?

Wasn’t there a murder island story arc? Maybe? And he died for like, a minute but then he came back?

Also Damian and Tim attempt to murder each other as a ✨bonding activity✨

Bruce

Don’t even get me started on freaking Bruce. I dread the day I finally get up the courage to start looking into Bruce.

So yeah. Send help? Suggest your favorite fight/monster/comic for me to research? Please, I’m begging you. Doesn’t matter the universe, or the era, or whether it’s pre-Crisis or Earth 1 or whatever other million ways there are to break them down (I still have to look into those, too.), anything you think should be on the timeline, let me know and I’ll look into it.

[moonlight0934]

Rotten Touch

Tim types, keeping his eyes on the computer in front of him. This is one of the many reports that he’s written this week since he decided to put them all off instead of doing them when he first needed them. He’s completely engrossed in what he’s working on, trying to get it done as fast as possible.

Bruce has gotten to the point where he’s not struggling so badly, and he and Dick have started working things out. Bruce hasn’t been as hard on him, but he remembers the stern tone that he took earlier when Gordon told him that proper evidence hasn’t been sent in, or dropped off yet.

His eyes are burning, and he’s barely able to keep them open, but he still has a few more things to do. So he keeps typing. Tim hears someone coming down the stairs, so he turns. Dick is walking into the cave. Tim turns back around, sure that he’s going to just work on something, and leave Tim to work in peace. He still feels himself tense slightly without telling his own body too.

He works just long enough to wish he was alone again, though he’s not sure what Dick is even doing. Then a hand lands on his arm, and he flinches back. He turns, still wincing slightly. Tim and Dick make eye contact, and Dick looks slightly surprised. Probably because he’s used to Tim forcing himself not to flinch, or coil away from him or Bruce.

“What’s up?” Tim asks, too tired to pretend like nothing happened.

“I was just wondering how much longer you were going to be working on that. Bruce isn’t going on patrol tonight, and I thought you might want to come with me. It’s a lot of ground to cover by myself.”

“Yeah, I’ll be done in thirty minutes, and then we can go.”

Dick smiles.

“Yeah, ok. I’ll come back in half an hour.”

Tim turns back to the computer, continuing with his work. He finishes a little faster than he thought he was going to, so he just leans back to wait. Dick takes him on patrol, and they split up to cover the most ground the fastest since neither of them wanted to be out there. It isn’t until they get back to the cave that Dick slaps Tim on the back.

“Good j-”

Tim steadies himself while simultaneously taking a few steps away from Dick.

“Sorry, I was just trying to say that you did a good job.”

Tim nods.

“I’m just tired and off balance.”

He scurries up the stairs before Dick can ask any more questions.

The next time this happens, everyone is there. Jason is sitting on top of a box of spare parts that he definitely should not be sitting on, Damian is standing with his arms folded, and Dick is sitting with Cass and Stephanie to the right. Bruce is finishing up the meeting that he called about a new trafficking ring that’s working out of Gotham, and Tim is standing the closest. He’s staring off into space, not listening anymore since he put together the information packet anyway.

Bruce’s hand lands on his shoulder, and he flinches back hard enough that he almost falls. Suddenly everyone’s eyes are on him. He feels his face burn, and he turns away quickly.

“I’m going to finish my reports. I’ll see you guys later.”

“What did you do to Replacement?” he hears Jason asks as he’s walking away. He doesn’t hear the response, or what anyone else asks.

He races to his room, and throws himself down on his bed. It’s only a few minutes before someone knocks on his door. He doesn’t answer, hoping that whoever is knocking thinks he’s somewhere else. Then they knock again.

“Drake, I know you’re in there.”

Damian, damn it. He’s not going to go away.

“Come in,” he calls, sitting up.

Damian walks in, shifting from foot to foot in the doorway.

“Um… are you alright?”

Tim shrugs, not really sure what’s happening.

“Father told us that he wasn’t going to tell us what’s going on with you. That’s fair, and you don’t have to tell me, but I want to make sure that you’re alright. If you don’t feel comfortable telling me why you did that, and there’s no way for you to explain otherwise, then we can just sit together.”

Tim sighs.

“I’m not sure. I was just taken by surprise.”

“PTSD, it’s strange. However, most of them don’t have that kind of reaction in certain spaces, the ones that are considered safe. Are you saying that isn’t safe, or is there no reason for it? I’m aware that mental health is weird, and can’t really be explained.”

“Come sit with me,” Tim offers.

Damian closes the door, and sits a foot away from Tim, facing him.

“I had a lot of things happen to me when I was younger, and a lot of it happened here. My training was brutal. I’m sure that you know what I mean by that. You’d understand better than most of them.”

Damian hums, though he still looks confused.

“Well, I’m normally good, but I was just startled. That’s why the cave doesn’t feel as safe as it does for everyone else.”

“But… wait, are you saying that Father abused you during your training?”

“Yes, he did on a few occasions.”

“Why did Grayson look guilty then? Wasn’t he not even in town? How did he even know that was happening?”

Tim shrugs.

“I don’t know how much of what Bruce did that Dick knows about. However, we didn’t have the best relationship either back then, and I don’t think Dick ever got over it. He can be really hard on himself, and he saw some of what I had to deal with, but he didn’t want to deal with Bruce. That’s totally fair, and I signed up for it, but that doesn’t mean that Dick didn’t feel selfish after everything was said and done.”

Damian hums, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“So the touch feels invasive, especially when you’re not thinking, or trying to calm your mind. I understand. That used to be what happened when anyone touched me. It would feel like something was crawling under my skin, and that I’d be violated. Like I let someone do something far too trustingly. Sometimes it would make me feel sick, especially when people would act like touching me wasn’t a privilege that I didn’t give to most people. Like it was nothing, and I wanted nothing more than to recoil, and never let them do it again.”

“Yeah, mine isn’t that bad, but I know what you’re talking about. Like touch scares you, and it makes you feel icky.”

Damian nods.

“Exactly.”

Tim leans back.

“I knew that you would get what I was talking about.”

Damian smiles softly at his lap.

“We’re more similar than we like to think.”

[zeroducks-2]

Zero you mentioned hating on people who get prissy about people shipping characters they dont actively ship and it sparked a LONG burning question of mine concerning bias shipping culture in Batfam fandom. Fans who attack and complain and make a big show of hating on ‘batcest’ ships ARE SO DUCKING HYPOCRITICAL OH MY LORD. I don’t understand why it’s considered okay to ship Dick x Barbara or Barbara x Bruce, or Steph x Tim. But seen as a cardinal sin to ship Jason x Dick, or Jason x Tim or Bruce x Dick??? Especially when the only argument antishippers make is ‘that’s gross their brothers/father and son and that’s incest 😤’. I’m sorry? Did you not just post nsfw Dickbabs content? Did DC not make Steph and Tim romantic love interests? Is that not incest too? Considering the fandom classifies all of them as family, and in a lot of fan spaces and fanfics, are they not interacting and being written as a family unit? I see SO many people blog about Bruce seeing Babs as his first daughter, or being making weird headcanons on Bruce and Steph’s relationship and donning it ‘tired uncle!Bruce and weird niece!steph core’. Like you obviously see them connected to Bruce through familial ties, and yet you’re okay with them dating Dick and Tim who are legally adopted by Bruce and who are also known as his sons? The irony. The hypocrisy. The ducking mockery of it all. Personally, I don’t think the issue that antishipper have is the ‘incest’ part but rather the ‘gay’ part of it all. Game of Thrones taught me that the general public actually don’t care about fictional incest between characters as long as it’s not between two male characters. Because lord forbid the’s a couple of queers in media.

I have been talking about this many times and I have no qualms talking about it some more:

✨ IT'S NOT INCEST, YALL JUST HOMOPHOBIC ✨

The whole idea around "batcest" makes no sense. These are people who did not grow up together, aren't related and never even lived under the same roof. Incest is not a spectrum, incest means sexual intercourse with a relative within the prohibited degree of consanguinity, consanguinity means BLOOD RELATIONSHIP, and these people DO NOT HAVE IT.

But even then, they are a bunch of hypocrites because I have not ever seen anyone batting an eye over Dickbabs or Timsteph (or Jaybabs, or Timbabs - yeah depending on the time period or the media, poor Babs has been passed around a lot). Their relationship is the exact same as the boys' when it comes to shared experiences. Steph has even been a Robin. But nobody cares because 1, DC is not pushing the "family rhetoric" with the girls all that much since they treat them as lower importance characters (when they're there at all), and 2, it's not queer relationships.

And this is ultimately what makes me go insane about queer kids parroting anti bullshit. Censorship is the weapon used by bigots to criminalize, punish and ultimately erase queer people from existence, it takes to study queer history for five minutes to understand this. You can see it happening in every fandom space where every type of queer ship gets put through some sort of moral sieve, and they WILL find reasons why it's unethical to ship it. Did you know that now shipping Dick/Wally is problematic because "Wally has a wife" ? So basically they're turning the very reason why fandom was born (exploring something different from the standardized heteronormative/amatonormative way of doing everything when it comes to narrative) into something pRoBLeMaTiC.

And these little fucking idiots keep spouting queerphobic nonsense while feeling morally righteous, not understanding that they are playing the game of the same people who if they could would shoot them in the street for being anything but straight and cis. And I'm not even taking into consideration the amount of harassment that comes from antis who think bullying and suibaiting someone over the perceived honor of fictional characters is okay.

BTW it's working. Just to name one, tumblr is not even doing its little rainbow capitalism number this year, because it's not a good look to be queer friendly anymore. Antis are helping the people who want us dead get to a spot where being anything but "normal" is illegal. When it happens, and if we keep going the way that we are now it will happen, it's going to be their fault too.

[laughingesper]

DP X DC Prompt

In the aftermath of Gotham War, Jason Todd is just... done with everything. He's tired of trying to change himself to meet the expectations of a man who won't even try to meet him half way. How the rest of the Batfamily, while not as bad, usually take Bruce's lead in regards to interacting with him. Even in his altered state, he manages to make his way to Amity Park (pretend this is a universe where the Justice League are mostly ignorant of the shit that goes on there).

Coincidentally, Desiree is out and about at the same time he arrives. He's terrified and pissed at the same time. He can't even be depressed in peace without being dragged into some kind of BS! So in the midst of his mental breakdown, he wishes for a better life where he'd never met Bruce Wayne, not that he's actually expecting anyone to be listening or do anything about it. An Amity Park native would know better.

Desiree: "As you have wished it, so it shall be!"

Jason: "Wait what?"

And because Jason isn't wearing Fenton anti-ghost tech when his wish is granted like Sam was, he doesn't remember making a wish in the first place. As far as he knows this is how it's always been. A world where Jason Todd is living a normal, peaceful, happy life. However, Desiree isn't capable of making grand sweeping changes to reality like this without a few hiccups (yet). Her power grows in proportion to how many wishes she's granted and lessens whenever she's not granting any. She actually got it 99% right, but there is still some physical evidence that things weren't always the way they currently are, like in the actual episode. No one remembers the truth except her, but certain smart people are able to notice the inconsistencies.

Such as Danny and friends, who can tell that a wish was granted but not who made it and what for. Usually it's way more obvious.

Meanwhile in Gotham City, how do things change without Jason Todd? Did someone else become the second Robin? If so, who is it and how did they differ from Jason? It's meant to be a sort of examination of how the Batfamily and DC themselves treat Jason as a character. How would someone else deal with that? Would they rise above it all in a way Jason never could or become a full on supervillain? Ideally, like in the episode itself, Jason would eventually remember the way things are supposed to be and wish things back to normal, but would he even want to do that?

This idea was inspired by this one panel from White Knight, and it just made me think 'well Comics Jason has even more of a reason to wish he never met Bruce lol'.

[captainlunaxmen]

Be My Queen

Chapter 1

Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

Chapter summary: When Vecna takes Nancy to show her his plan, he takes y/n as well to show her he already knows her or some version of her. For the gang, then it's time to come up with a good plan, and a trip to the War Zone is due.

Chapter warnings: spoiler season 4, blood, non-con touching, violence, Jason being an asshole.

What the hell is happening?

One minute, I hear Steve's panicked voice calling Nancy, and the next I'm in... a laboratory?

My friends and I finally got back from the UpsideDown after being stuck there, and now I'm trapped again... it's terrifying.

I look around, trying to calm down by taking a big deep breath. The walls are clean and white, just like a hospital. A shiver runs down my spine when I notice a girl walking out of a room with papers in her hands.

What the fuck?

She looks exactly like me... how?

I decide to follow her, seeing that I have no other option.

As I follow her... me... I see some other people, who look like doctors and nurses. Some of them are followed by kids. Shaved head, all of them.

I quickly take a closer look and notice they have a number tattooed on their arm.

Could it be where El lived?

Oh fuck. I'm in Hawkins' Lab. Why? Why is there a girl who looks exactly like me?

I keep following her around, but before I could follow her into a room I hear a voice calling my name.

I turn around finding a blonde man, looking directly at me.

"Yes?"

I turn around after my "clone" answered him. Her demeanour changes right away when her eyes spot the man. From calm, almost bored to nervous, on edge.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, love." the blonde man says with a sweet, yet intimidating tone.

"I... I was fixing some things... for today's tests." The girl tells him in a small voice.

As the man walks towards her, I notice the girl taking a small step back, but stops, almost holding back.

"You always work so hard. You should rest for a while" he's now in front of her and she doesn't look comfortable.

"I don't mind it, Henry, I'm not even tired," she says letting out a nervous chuckle.

"Take a break, c'mon. Ten minutes won't hurt anyone" the man named Henry insists, moving his hand to caress her arm so slightly.

"Maybe later. I have to drop off these files and check on the kids" she explains calmly.

"What about I check on the kids so we can have some... alone time?" He asks, inching closer and closer to the girl, who looks around the corridor to probably check if someone's coming.

"I don't think it's a good idea," she says, trying to remain calm "Brenner asked me to personally check on the kids."

Henry just looks at her, almost admiring her.

"Then give me a kiss so I can go on with my day without missing you too much"

He doesn't give her time to respond, his lips are already on hers, moving the hand that was caressing her arm to her hips holding her.

The girl's eyes are open, she doesn't exactly kiss him back, she just lets him and he doesn't seem to notice it.

"I'll see you later, love," he says after pulling away.

"Bye," she says and quickly walks into a room, I follow her just as quickly, however when I enter the room I find "me" attending to the same blonde man, Henry.

He looks bad, like he was beaten up or something, the girl's checking his head.

"Do you feel nauseous, dizzy, or..?" She asks.

"No.. just a little stunned" he answers, holding his head.

"That's good... at least a bit."

They stay silent for a moment, the girl looks at him with sorrow, I think, someone must've put this Henry through something really bad for her to feel sorry for a man she was quite intimidated by.

"I'm sorry, Henry," she says.

"Don't be." He replies looking up at her and grabbing her hand, the action makes her tense immediately, still he doesn't notice it, instead, he goes on "It was not your fault and you don't need to worry about me, angel, I'm gonna get us out of here."

"What?" She's confused.

"Eleven has a huge power. Her powers have the potential to become something great... she could help me build a new world. A world for us. Then we could finally be together" he explains and now the girl looks alarmed.

"What are you talking about?" She asks.

"Don't think about it, my love, I'll fix everything soon?" he tells her and kiss her hand.

What the hell is going on here?

I feel myself shaking, and breathing becomes hard so I turn around to get out of the room.

As I walk through the door I'm back in the corridor, but now the walls aren't white and clean... they're covered in blood.

I look around, on the ground laying with broken limbs and bleeding eyes there are the same people I saw walking earlier... the children too... all dead.

I feel myself getting sick when a scream catches my attention.

"Stop!" It's the girl again.

I run towards her voice and enter a wide room, a rainbow fantasy on the walls, lots of kids' toys on the floor... there's blood on them too, the children's. I see them laying on the ground blood all over them.

Fuck.

"Please, Henry, you need to stop" I turn to see the girl standing in front of a mad Henry.

He takes a step toward her and she takes a big step back. I don't think she cares anymore if he feels hurt by her actions or not.

"Why are you scared, my angel?" He asks, he doesn't realise she doesn't feel the same and he doesn't realise what he did wrong. It makes me sick.

"You... fuck... look at what you did! They're... they're kids.." she tells him in between sobs.

Suddenly he walks to her cupping her face in his hands, preventing her from moving away. She still tries though.

"Don't you understand? Don't you understand why I'm doing this?" He asks her, rather harshly.

"What's there to understand? You... you fucking kill them" she replies, voice breaking at the end.

Before he could answer her there was a noise coming from near the wall.

I look back seeing a boy standing up.

Henry's eyes darken as he notices him, he lets go of the girl and turns his attention to the boy.

"No, please... Henry... please" she tries to stop him, trying to stop his arm from slowly raising. "Please... fuck... don't!"

Henry nods towards the door and the girl flies across the room hitting the doors and Henry goes back to killing the boy.

He lifts him into the air and using his power he breaks his bones and his eyes.

The boy looked so young...

As soon as Henry killed the poor thing he looks for the girl, but she's nowhere to be seen.

She must've escaped while he was distracted.

I want to do just that so I run out of the room.

When I go to open the door I find myself face to face with Eddie's worried face.

"Oh, Jesus!" He lets out a sigh of relief.

"Fucking thank god" Steve exclaims.

"What... what happened?" I ask sitting up.

"We thought Vecna took you and Nancy," Dustin says from beside me so I look at him, caressing his arm to assure him I was okay.

I look at the others, all with worried faces. Nancy's beside Robin who got an arm around her reassuringly.

"Did he let you go too?" She asks and I nod "did he show you what he showed me?"

"I... I don't know"

-----------

We all moved to Max's trailer where Nancy started telling us about what Vecna showed her.

His plan of bringing a sort of army to Hawkins, to let the UpsideDown expand completely into our world through some gates.

They keep talking, but I can't pay attention, I hear them, but I can't listen.

I'm too focused on whatever the fuck he showed me.

"I was there" I suddenly say from my place on the ground, head in my head thinking.

"So was I. It was... so real I- " Nancy starts, but I interrupt her.

"No. Not that. I mean, I was there, at the lab. Or some copy of me, a clone or... I don't know." I take a deep breath "this... Vecna, one... Henry, he was, like, in love with this girl, or better, obsessed with her. Delusional. I saw... I saw him killing a little kid... the same way Eddie described... with no sign of regret or even sorrow."

"What... what if he just showed those things to scare you?" Steve suggests, evidently trying not to think of the worst.

"He didn't. I... I don't know what the hell was that, but I know it was very much real... and it's freaking me the fuck out, okay? I don't want to believe it, but... there's no denying it." I tell him. "For some reason, I, or another girl who looks exactly like me, was there and he feels like he found her again."

"Why doing all this just for... a girl though?" Robin asks "don't get me wrong, you're a wonderful girl, I'd gladly do that too. But why be so obsessed?"

"He needs a queen" Dustin answers her like it was obvious.

"Fuck..." I mutter hiding my head in my hands once again.

"Shit...Try 'em again. Try 'em again" Steve tells Max, who immediately goes to the phone.

We've been trying to contact El, Will and Mike, with no results.

"Anything?" Dustin asks.

"No. Rang a few times, then went to a busy signal." Max answers.

"Maybe you punched it wrong. Try again" Steve says.

"I didn't punch it in wrong" Max replies, rightly annoyed.

"Well, I don't know" Steve tries.

"I think she knows how to use a phone" Dustin defends Max, who's trying once again.

"I'm just saying, she could've typed it in wrong." Steve insists.

Max hangs up the phone again "same shit"

"How is that possible?" Lucas asks confused.

"I told you, Joyce has this telemarketer job. She's always on the phone. Mike won't stop whining about it." Dustin explains.

"That can't be three days straight busy, Dustin," I say.

"Yeah, something must be wrong" Max agrees with me.

"They're right. It can't be just a coincidence. It can't be" Nancy to agree."Whatever is happening in Lenora is connected to all of this. I'm sure of it. But Vecna can't hurt them nor take Y/n. Not if he's dead. We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down."

"Whoa. No, no, no. What?" Steve complains.

"Nope." Eddie too shakes his head.

"She's right," I say standing next to Nancy. "I don't know about you, but I don't exactly like the idea of being some teen-killing monster's mistress or whatever. So we either kill the bastard or... we kill the bastard" I say matter-of-factly

"We barely made it out of there in one piece" Steve points out.

"Yeah. That's because we weren't prepared, Steve." I tell him. "We just need a plan"

"A good one. Then we'll go through the gate, we'll find his lair, and we'll kill him" Nancy supports me.

"Or he'll kill us" Steve replies, agitated "the only reason you survived is that he wanted you to. He's not scared of us."

"And for good reason" Robin finally speaks "we were wrong about Vecna. Henry. One. Sorry, what are we calling him now?" She asks.

"One" Dustin and Lucas choose.

"Vecna," says Erica.

"Henry," Nancy says.

"Piece of shit?" I suggest, noticing a nod from Eddie.

"Right. We've learned something new about Vecna/Henry/one... uh... piece of shit. He's a number like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin. But my... my point is, he's super powerful. He could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It's not a fair fight."

"Then why fight fair?" Dustin asks, simply "you're right. He's like Eleven. But that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven's strengths and weaknesses" he explains.

Genius.

"Weaknesses?" Erica's quite confused now.

"There is one thing we can use," I say.

"Exactly, when El remote-travels, she goes into this sort of trance-like state. I bet the same is true for Vecna" Dustin keeps talking.

"That would explain what he was doing in that attic" Lucas points out.

"Exactly. When he attacks his next victim, I'll bet you he's back in that attic, physical body defenceless." He declares.

"Defenseless? What about the army of bats?" Steve rhetorically asks, pointing at his injured neck.

"Right, true. We'll have to find a way past them. Distract them somehow." Dustin answers.

"And, uh, how do we do that, exactly?" Eddie asks, about to stand up.

"No idea" Dustin replies and Eddie sits back down defeated. "But once they're gone, he doesn't stand a chance. It'll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin"

"That sounds good in theory, but there is no pattern in Vecna's killings. I mean, at least not one that I can decipher." Robin notes. "We don't know when he's going to attack next. We don't even know who he's going to attack"

"We don't need another victim," I say, looking down.

"What are you talking about?" Nancy asks, worry clear in her voice.

"I can be the bait."

"No," Steve and Eddie say at the same time.

"I will" Max speaks up. "I can still feel him. I survived before I can do it again"

"No." I firmly say "we don't know if the music thing will work again. He will kill you if he gets another chance. But he will not kill me"

"We... we don't know that Y/n" Steve walks in front of me.

"Yes, we do! You didn't see what I saw. How he was with her. He looked at her like she was the reason the sun goes up every morning." I look him in the eyes, and my voice gets softer "he won't kill me, Steve"

"Are you sure about this?" Lucas asks.

"Positive," I say letting out a big sigh "just... please kill him"

"We need supplies" Nancy declares.

-----------

After stealing an RV we head to the War Zone that, according to Eddie, has everything we might need for killing things.

The plan is to buy weapons and then find an open space to get ready and be away from unwanted attention.

I sit in the back with Dustin while the others are scattered around and Steve's driving.

"Are you worried?" Dustin suddenly asks.

I look up at him, then I look around to avoid his worried stare and find Eddie's, instead. I smile at him, to let him know everything is alright.

"Scared shitless" I then say to Dustin.

"You don't have to do this. You can back down and we can think of a new plan together" Dustin tells me, he tries to both reassure me and make me change my mind.

"I know, I know. But the only other valid option is for Max to be the bait and, in all honesty, that scares me even more" As I speak I play with my fingers and when I sense someone's presence with us I look up seeing Eddie.

"Hi" he softly says.

"Hey" I reply.

"I'll leave you two" Dustin smiles at us and gets up to join Lucas and Max.

"You okay?" He asks and I softly laugh. "Stupid question, I know. I'm sorry"

"Nah, don't worry about it. You can ask all the stupid questions you want" I smile at him.

"I wish you wouldn't have to do this" he gently holds my hand.

"Me too. But better me than Max, or anyone else" I say laying my head on his shoulder, I always found comfort in this. We've been friends since I started driving the kids back and forth when they had Hellfire, so we got closer. Sometimes I feel like there's more, but whenever anything could happen he backs down so I'm never sure how he feels.

"It would be better to send Harrington. Maybe he could distract him with his hair, make good use of it for once" he jokes.

"Don't be mean," I say with a chuckle. He always knows how to cheer me up. "He might give him lessons on how to style it properly" I joke too.

I look at Steve driving.

Steve...

Steve, on the other hand, I met him when he and Nancy started dating, so of course he was always in the way. I didn't mind it honestly, he turned out to be not that much of a dick. Then he just got better, especially thanks to Dustin's friendship, but here things get complicated. When he worked at Scoops Ahoy with Robin he always flirted with me as I went to visit Robin during my breaks at the music store at Starcourt, at first I thought he was his way of joking. The moment I realised he wasn't joking I also realised I didn't mind it at all. I wanted him to flirt and I wanted to flirt back.

So... I realised I like, have some sort of feeling for two guys... at the same time.

Complicated.

"We're here" Steve announces parking the van in a secluded area to keep Eddie, Dustin and Lucas away from the people of Hawkins.

-----------

The store is huge.

"So much for avoiding angry hicks" Robin comments.

"Let's be... fast" Nancy suggests and we all agree.

Nancy and I go check out the shotguns they sell.

"How much?" Nancy asks the seller.

"$120.99, but I'll throw in 20 rounds of buckshot for ya," he tells us and I just nod at Nancy.

"Not bad," I whisper to her and she agrees.

While we keep looking Nancy hands me the weapon, but then I hear a familiar voice.

"Hey, can I see this real pretty .357, please?"

"Oh shit" I comment and Nancy quickly looks behind me and turns around just as quickly.

"You go. I got this" I tell her.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, just try to warn the other to keep an eye out for his goons. They must be around here too" I nod and she walks away, but that must've caught Jason's eyes because he then speaks directly at me.

"Look at that... What are you doing here?" He asks.

"Oh you know" I start turning around to face him, "they say there's a killer on the loose... gotta be prepared."

"Aren't you the freak's bitch?" He harshly asks.

"It's really sad you can't recognise what a friend looks like" I mock him, keeping a serious expression.

I see his jaw clenching hard, my words hit the target. He relaxes his face and takes a breath and just looks at me, in a way that makes a shiver run down my spine.

"It's a real pity" he then says.

"Yeah, it is. It means you never had an actual friend in your life" I say with a fake pout on my face.

He just laughs humourless.

"No, babe. A real pity is how you ruined yourself by hanging out with the freak" he walks closer.

"Oh no... you think I ruined myself?" I ask with fake shock, then I just smile "thank god. If having good friends instead of assholes like you ruined me... glad to be ruined, sir"

"You were really pretty, you know. I mean, you kind of still are... I'd gladly help you find the right way back." He... flirts..?

Oh now I'm gonna get sick

"Wow... your girlfriend died not long ago and you're already harassing another girl... just wow." I laugh sarcastically "see? That's what makes Eddie so much better than you"

"What would your father say, uh? I don't think Hopper would be happy about it" he suddenly says.

Oh... he didn't just mention my father, did he?

Now it's my turn to clench my jaw, he notices and smiles proudly.

"You wash that fucking mouth before talking about my father because you. Know. Shit." I tell him, walking up to him.

"Want my advice?" He asks completely ignoring me.

"No"

"Shotguns are not good for much of anything past killing small birds," he tells me, eyes focused on mine "I mean, they got power, sure, but not much range. And that's just gonna force you into close-range combat, then someone can easily redirect it by grabbing that barrel, like this.."

He suddenly moves to grab the barrel, but I'm faster, stepping back and moving the shotgun out of his reach earning a surprised expression from him.

"Keep talking about shit you clearly know nothing about and I might just show you what my father would say" I warn him and walk away.

I go pay for the stuff I got and reunite with the others as we walk back to the van.

"Remind me, please, not to make you angry?" Robin tells me with a proud smirk.

"You could never"

"That was... I gotta say... quite hot" Steve tells me pleasantly surprised.

I just wink at him, and we all hurry to get in the vehicle and just rush off before anyone could see us.

We quickly rush into the RV.

"What happened?" Lucas immediately asks.

"We gotta go" Steve cuts him off.

"Your old friends are here" Erica informs her brother.

Steve starts the vehicle, immediately driving away as soon as the last of us get in.

I move to the back with Dustin and Lucas.

"So.." Dustin starts.

I look at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Yes?" I urge him on.

"When are you gonna talk to them?" He asks.

"To who?" Lucas asks, suddenly interested.

"Eddie and Steve" Dustin immediately answers and I roll my eyes "C'mon! It's clear as the day you feel something for them, the both of them and they feel the same."

"It's more complicated than you think, Dusty," I tell him softly.

"It's not." Lucas interjects "I mean, Eddie kept worrying about you the whole time you all were in there. I mean very worried. Very."

"Yeah. And you didn't see the look Steve had when you volunteered to bait Vecna" Dustin adds.

"Yeah... I told you. Complicated" I tell them to drop the subject, so I just lean my head back and try to think of something else.

I have no idea what will happen.

I keep thinking about how this is real. I was there. I saw myself there in that lab, with Vecna, Henry or whoever the fuck he is. How is that possible? Is it some kind of trap?

What scares me the most is that I have this feeling it's not a trap. It's all true.

[sasheneskywalker]

brudick fic recs

a bird in the hand by wingdingery The first time Clark meets Robin, he’s completely confused about why Batman (Mr. I am vengeance, I am the night, and I work alone) would choose to have a hyperactive neon-colored ten-year-old as his partner in vigilanteism.

Over the next twenty years, he comes to understand clearly what makes Nightwing so special—though the relationship between Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne never gets any less complicated over time.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson & Clark Kent, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne

a painting you could never frame by wingdingery Batman gets hit by a curse that can only be broken by his soulmate. Fortunately, that’s easy enough for Dick to fix.

The only problem is, no one else knows that he’s Bruce’s soulmate—not even Bruce himself.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

the courage of stars by wingdingery Dick's time at Spyral ends with the Somnus satellite getting activated – and all memories of Richard John Grayson ever existing wiped from the world. After Dick realizes that trying to get anyone to remember him only causes them pain, he decides that the best thing to do is say goodbye to Gotham and leave his old life behind entirely.

The only problem is, his old life can’t seem to let him go.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Everyone

love is a river by wingdingery Realizing that he’s in the future is unsettling enough for Bruce; realizing that everyone in the future is trying to keep something a secret from him is even worse.

But realizing exactly what that secret is turns out to be the worst of all.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

mutually assured by wingdingery Dick’s mom always told him that kissing a wound would help it heal faster.

Somehow, Dick’s not sure that’s ever really worked for him and Bruce.

E | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

when all the walls come down by wormsin This isn't the first time one of them has been dying in the other's arms. But it might be the last. As far as deathbed confessions goes, Dick thinks his is pretty good.

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom without a King or Queen…”

-

Or: It takes a building falling on their heads for Dick to tell Bruce how he really feels.

E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

One-Way Glass by wormsin Dick Grayson—husband, father, hero—is de-aged to his early days as Robin.

There are lots of different ways to look at the past. Sometimes, it's hard to know what really happened.

E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss by ful_crum After Jason’s death, Dick spends more time back at the manor. There are many opportunities for sparring between Bruce and Dick, but it’s only a matter of time until sparring turns into fighting.

Or, what happens when you fistfight your former mentor that you kind of hate and kind of love?

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Compromising Positions by ful_crum Bruce and Dick keep getting caught in compromising positions. It’s all just circumstantial though, of course. Dick keeps insisting they aren’t fucking, so they must not be.

Right?

OR, five times someone walks into Bruce and Dick in compromising yet innocent positions, and the one time they’re actually fucking.

(BruDick Week 2024 — Day 6: Caught in the Act)

E | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Fledgling by quickmanifyouloveme "But are you in love with me?"

"I can't let you leave."

Bruce Wayne has died. Tim asks Dick why he doesn't want to help get their father back. Dick is tired of lying about the two years before he left to become Nightwing.

E | Rape/Non-Con, Underage | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson

Down the Line by Averia It's just Bruce being Bruce, Clark says. Lois Lane begs to differ.

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent/Lois Lane

Your fortress face belied your fort of lace by treacherous And does any of this lame introspection even matter now when his dick is chubbing up and Bruce is looking at him the same as when he’d brought flavored lube to bed and they didn’t come up for air until the next morning?

(or, Bruce and Dick inevitably come together, inevitably fall apart, and tonight, Dick is weighing the ethics of asking your ex exactly why he broke up with you while he’s dosed with truth serum)

E | Underage | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Happy Acres by Kyele When a seemingly-rehabilitated Dr. Quinzel opens an upscale retreat for couples in crisis, Batman needs to investigate. An undercover mission as Bruce Wayne and partner should do the trick. Unfortunately, his first choice for the mission is unavailable. As is his second. And his third. And -

“What’s more important?” Dick challenges. “Your considerations - or the lives of the people who may be endangered by a delay in getting the truth about Happy Acres?”

Bruce opens his mouth, and then closes it again. He knows the answer to that. He believes the answer to that. He just - he can’t even form the thought. Logically he knows what Dick is suggesting, but it won’t even compute. He has spent too long preventing his mind from ever considering Dick and romance at the same time.

Dick, who doesn’t have Bruce’s feelings, also doesn’t have Bruce’s difficulties. “That’s what I thought,” he says. Despite his victory, he somehow sounds weary. “So get over yourself, and hand me the damn pocket square. I’m your date tonight, and you’d better start getting used to it.”

E | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Casino Royale by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin) Boravia’s grand casino, once a hotbed of European crime, has reopened with a high-stakes poker tournament Bruce Wayne suspects may be the work of Roulette. In a country where superheroes are banned, the only way to foil a criminal conspiracy is to enter the tournament as himself, and play his way up to the top.

But not just any card-playing billionaire can get his name on the list. The real price of admission is a lot higher than the two million dollar buy-in. You also need a secret to offer up as your stake. A dirty one. The kind a man like Bruce Wayne would pay dearly to keep quiet.

Enter Dick Grayson.

Though he agrees to accompany Bruce to the tournament in the guise of his illicit lover, to help him fake a blackmail-worthy secret besides the one with masks and capes, Dick's not wild about spending so much time with his old friend in flirtatious playboy mode; but somehow it's harder than expected to watch Bruce direct that legendary charisma at other people, and Dick doesn't quite know why. Over the course of four days, what began as a straightforward undercover job devolves into a messy emotional tangle which forces both men to confront truths they’ve kept hidden for years . . . even from themselves.

E | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

You are forever in my mind by orphan_account This started off as a simple idea: Bruce installs a new set of cameras in the manor; cameras he doesn't tell anyone about. One night, he accidentally sees something that fundamentally affects him - and the way he looks at Dick.

E | Underage | Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne