#what happened to the guy who raised dick grayson who adored jason todd who let tim drake in during his darkest hour

[phantomchick]

Apropos of nothing but the whole fucking thing about Bruce being embittered and deadened and rejecting hope is such a bullshit trope in both the movies and the comics. Bullshit on so many levels. The only reason B puts himself through the amount of suffering he does every night while fighting crime is because he believes he actually is making a difference and that Gotham CAN be saved, that there’s something worth fighting for there in the first place - he is literally the most hopeful person within the entire dc universe I mean compare him to literally every hero that condemns Gotham as an impossible to save hellhole. Bruce is prepared to believe in goodness coming out of that hell hole if he fights for it. 

The idea that the kid who saw his parents murdered in an alley and grew up trying to become someone with the skills to stop that from happening to anyone else doesn’t believe in heroes or in people being worth saving in the first place??? When his entire belief system is rooted in every life being worth saving??? Is absolutely insidious grim dark nonsense that detracts from the core of the character and I roll my eyes so hard at it.

[princessjaqulinechess1031]

by the bedside

Characters: Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Adrien Agreste, Jason Todd

Summary: A job goes wrong, and Marinette fears the worst until Damian wakes up. 

Notes: Cross-posted on Archive of Our Own. 

Sequel

"À la claire fontaine," a soft voice sung, pulling Damian out of his hazy daze. "M'en allant promener, j'ai trouvé l'eau si belle…"

Damian groaned and tried to turn on his side, to try and reach whatever it was singing, but the moment he did, the song stopped and was replaced by a gasp. Damian blinked his eyes open, ignoring the sting, and saw sitting next to him was a disheveled and red-eyed Marinette sitting next to him.

"Damian….," she whispered. Damian tried to reach out a hand to her, but found that it felt like lead. Moving it felt like a splitting pain, and it was weighed down by a cast. Damian shut his eyes and leaned back into the pillow. The building, the explosion, and –

"Adrien?" Damian croaked. Marinette nodded her head and took the hand not enclosed in a cast in her hands. She gave it a gentle squeeze and smiled.

"He's fine," Marinette said. "He's doing damage control with your brother."

Ah, yes. Dick. Nightwing had come to Paris as one Dick Grayson, something to do with Wayne Enterprises or other, when he had realized what Damian was up to. Robin had become an unofficial third member of Paris's own dynamic duo, Ladybug and Chat Noir once all their allies identities were exposed. Hawkmoth was long gone, so it was just petty criminals and the like, but adding a fourth member to that so suddenly had thrown everything off. Even if it was for one mission. A bomb was missed, and now –

"How long was I out?" Damian asked. He narrowed his eyes and looked around and saw a familiar location had enveloped him. "And ho-how did we get to the Batcave?"

"Two days," Marinette said breathlessly. "And a Zeta tube."

Ah, Zeta. He should have known. Damage control probably meant making sure Paris still had someone patrolling and keeping it's citizens safe.

"Nightwing insisted we bring you back here," Marinette said. "Said you should be with family."

That meant it was touch and go for a moment. Damian felt unfrazzled by the brush with death, how many times had he had one since he was born? Not to mention he actually had died once. He looked down at Marinette's outfit, and saw she was wearing the same purple sundress she had been wearing before her transformation two days ago.

"H-have you been here the whole time?" Damian asked softly. Marinette looked down at her fingers sheepishly.

"I-I had to be sure," Marinette said. "When the Lucky Charm didn't work, and –" Marinette cut herself off with a chortle of tears. "Ma moitié, I had to make sure you weren't dead."

Damian shut his eyes. This was what frazzled him. He knew in their line of work, one got hurt. Sometimes you didn't walk away. But to hurt Marinette, to make Marinette feel hopeless and lost as Damian fought on a hospital bed. Marinette was the one good, pure thing he had ever been able to keep, and to make her feel pain felt like a betrayal.

"You should have gone home," Damian said slowly. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Marinette shook her head and squeezed his hand.

"If you expected me to do that, then you don't really know me."

Damian turned his head to the side, and tried to ignore the sharp burst of pain at the top of his back from the movement. But try as he might, he still winced. Marinette reached forward and put a hand on his shoulder to try and steady him again.

"Be still, ma moitié," Marinette said. "Monsieur Pennyworth said it was best for you to remain as you are."

Marinette was so polite, and despite Alfred's continued insistence, Marinette continued to call the man by his proper name. Damian found it was one of many adorable things about her to love.

"Nawaret aynaya," Damian said, "I promise I'm fine –"

"No you're not!" Marinette busted out. "You're hurt, you- you nearly died! All because I couldn't keep my team – I got distracted and –"

The young girl burst into tears, and Damian took his hand from her grasp and reached up to caress her cheek. Oh, Marinette. She always took ever mistake, every misstep, as some misgiving on her part. To Marinette, the safety of all Paris and all of her friends sat squarely on her shoulders. She might shoulder that responsibility with her brother Chat Noir, but Marinette would always hold it as a personal stake in her heart.

"It's not your fault, nawaret aynaya," Damian said softly. "This – this comes with the mask, you know that. If you had or had not been there, this would have happened eventually." He wiped away a tear form her cheek, and Marinette reached for the hand still caressing her. "I love you Marinette. And I know you would never hurt me. So stop blaming yourself."

Marinette gave a weak smile.

"If you expect me to stop just like that," she hiccupped, "then you don't really know me at all." She sucked in a deep breath and rubbed her thumb across his wrist.

"I love you too," she said. Damian's heart sang. For seventeen years he had waited for something and someone that would look at him and not see a monster. Not see an assassin or a danger or someone to fear. And by some miracle, that person turned out to be the love of his life.

And he'd be damned if he let her go.

"He's flatlining, I'm calling it," a voice said, breaking the moment around them. Damian retracted his hand and Marinette wiped away a last tear. In the doorway stood one Jason Todd, mask gone but still wearing spandex and his leather jacket. "Mari, time of death?"

Marinette bit her lip and looked down at her hands, but Damian could see the beginnings of a smile on her face. Jason stepped into the room and dragged a chair from the corner and sat down next to Marinette with a loud thud.

"Papa Bat should be here in a little bit, Brat Bat," Jason said. He took out his gun and began to fiddle with it, probably to clean it since he pulled out a white cloth from his pocket. Damian frowned.

"I'm not a brat," Damian said. Jason rolled his eyes.

"You might be seventeen, but you're still a brat sometimes," Jason said. Marinette looked up from her hands, that familiar mischief shining in her eyes.

"You're kinda. Sometimes," Marinette said softly. Jason laughed and slung an arm around the girl's shoulder.

"Ah! I got the girlfriend on my side!" Jason said. "I win!"

Normally Damian would keep going and insist he wasn't a brat, but Jason was as transparent as a plane of glass. Jason was trying to cheer up Marinette with this joke, and Damian was not going to try and ruin that. Marinette was going to be happy and not worry too much about Damian, that was his mission.

"What did you win?" Adrien asked, popping his head into the med bay. His blonde hair was still damp, meaning he probably just got out of a post-patrol shower. He came up behind his adopted sister and hugged her from behind, placing a kiss to her temple.

"Marinette admitted Damian was a brat sometimes," Jason said.

"I am not!"

"Yeah, you are," Adrien said. Tim and Dick entered the room, and Tim was texting someone on his phone. Probably Stephanie, telling her he was okay. Dick pulled a chair over to the other side of Damian's bed and leaned back, his long legs stretching out underneath the medical bed.

"Be nice to the injured child," Dick said. Damian frowned.

"I am not a child," Damian said. "I am the same age you were when you went solo, Grayson."

Dick raised a brow. "And? I was a child then, henceforth, you're a child now."

Damian furrowed his brow again and Marinette laughed softly, but once again he did not fight. If it made Marinette smile, it was worth it.

His father finally materialized, Alfred behind him. His father was as stoic as ever, his eyes steeled and guarded thanks to the new visitors to the Cave. Despite the Miraculous duo having been unofficial members of the Batfamily for a year and a half, Father still seemed opposed to giving them official membership. Damian wondered if it had anything to do with Marinette being his girlfriend. He hoped not.

"Master Damian," Alfred said, and a phantom smile overtook his professional form. "I see you are recovering well. I assume Miss Marinette has made sure you've stayed where you should?"

"He only woke up a little while ago, Monsieur," Marinette said. Her lips upturned wickedly. "The real problems in that regard have not started yet."

Adrien laughed and hugged his sister tighter.

"Trust me, mi'lady is here is plenty capable of keeping Damian in line."

Once upon a time, Damian had been jealous of Adrien's nickname for Marinette. Now Damian knew better. Adrien may have once been desperately in love with Marinette and Ladybug, but once one Kagami entered the picture it was game over. Now, the nickname was mere relic of that time and a testament to the depth of their bond.

"I expect nothing less," Alfred said. Father stood at the foot of his bed. He was still dressed in his suit, but his cowl was down, revealing his identity. That made Adrien and Marinette's lack of inclusion even more baffling – they knew who all of them were, the biggest secret they had.

"Are you alright Damian?" Father asked. Damian nodded.

"Yes Father," Damian said. A sigh of relief left his father's form. Despite medical evidence, after everything that happened with Jason, Father would never be certain of his kid's state until he heard from them exactly.

"Well, I mean, wasn't he just fighting with Jason?" Tim asked. He looked up from his phone. "Me and Dick heard them outside. If he's in a fighting mood, he's fine."

"I almost died, and you guys treat me this way," Damian said. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, this is how we show our love," Jason said. He eyes Dick. "Except for Dick. He does the whole normal shit. Damn well-adjusted asshole."

"Damn non-well-adjusted asshole," Dick shot back. Marinette giggled. Father turned to Marinette and Adrien.

"You two can stay here as long as you need, to make sure Damian is okay," Father said. Damian tried not to let his surprise be palpable. Marinette and Adrien were barely allowed in the Batcave half the time, now Father was offering to let them stay while Damian recovered? What had happened in the time he was asleep? "You can Zeta home for clothes, if you need them. But we have enough clothes that might fit you Adrien, and I'm sure Cass left some things behind before going to Hong Kong."

"Thank you, Monsieur Wayne," Adrien said for the both of them. Marinette smiled and then turned her attention back to Damian.

Damian for seventeen years wondered what it would be like to be purely loved.

Now he knew. It came from Marinette Dupain-Cheng, that kind of true love

[tired-college-student-writing]

#WayneAngel: Chapter 2

The Maribat AU by @ozmav and @maribat-archive is all I can think about atm, so enjoy more of this

Summary- After Grayson posts a video on the wrong twitter, Damian feels like he should lose his social media privileges, and possibly his hand. 

Part 1

Part 2 (HERE)

Part 3

______________________________________________________________________

Wayne’s Angel @FashionableInGotham

Thanks for outing my relationship, Dick, now I owe Tim money. 

Marinette paused realizing that no one was going to believe the lone tweet, even as she hit send on the first post of her new twitter account. There were probably a hundred fake accounts popping up already in light of the news. Thousands of theories on her were already flying around the net. 

She probably had a zillion texts from her classmates about the video, but she had taken one look at the group chat and missed calls she had gotten from Alya and turned her phone onto do not disturb. She’d check for texts from her actual friends later. 

She sighed and stuck her head outside, and was only mildly surprised seeing the two middle Wayne boys stilling sitting on the patio. 

“You guys are still out here?” She asked, only for Jason to flip her off and Tim just bleary lifted his head up, having been taking a nap in the sun like a cat.

“Easy boy,” She soothed Jason, “I’ve just come to tell you the kitchen is no longer off-limits, and that Damian is attempting to murder Dick.”

“What did Dickie do?” 

Instead of answering Jason’s question she held up a blue bill between two fingers, “Oh I also owe Tim this,” 

She watched Tim pause mid-yawn and eyes flash to her before his eyes grow large and he cracked up laughing.  

Jason slipped into a cheeky smirk, “No…” 

“Oh yes,” Marinette sighed, “Dick accidentally uploaded the video he took earlier to his public twitter, instead of his private one. #WayneAngel and #MariDami are both trending right now.”  

“The demon spawn might actually succeed in killing him this time,” Tim gasped out, snatching the bill from her.

“Not on Alfred’s birthday, he won’t,” She giggled back before holding up her phone, “Either way, mind helping me enter the celebrity Twitter scene? I feel there’s going to be lots of clean up involved, but I figured the sooner I’m officially introduced the better, but I need someone to confirm I’m me on there.” 

Tim pulled out his phone, “One introduction tweet coming right up.” 

Tim Drake Offical @TJDrake

Thanks, @AFlyingGrayson for fucking up and winning me the bet with on who would out The Demon spawn’s relationship! 

Anyways, Just wanted to introduce @FashionableInGotham as my actual favorite sibling and the Demon spawn’s real, flesh and blood, girlfriend, Marinette.

With the tweet was a picture that Tim had snapped of the three of them chilling on the porch, Marinette perched on the armrest of Tim’s chair as the boy waved the banknote in front of the lens, Jason smirking as he gave the young girl bunny ears. 

It’s a very endearing picture, in her opinion and was ranking in retweets in a heartbeat. Her follower count was climbing from the seven Waynes. Marinette wasn’t going to ask how Tim managed to hack twitter to make the missing Waynes follow her, she really didn’t want to know. 

Plausible Deniability and all that.

The tweet was followed quickly by one from Jason. 

Jason Todd Lives @BestTodd

Yes the brat has a girlfriend

Yes I lost the bet on if he’d follow in Bruce’s footsteps 

Yes that’s my real reaction to her picking me up

Yes she’s is that adorable irl, Proof vvv

Yes @FashionableInGotham is my unofficial baby sister and I will fuck up anyone that upsets her

The picture he attached as proof of her being adorable was of her working on a piece, her tongue sticking out between her teeth as she concentrated. The reds and purple laying in pieces around her as she snipped and sewed them together. Behind her, you could barely make out Tim and Damian arguing on her chaise. 

There was a sudden bang as the patio door was hung open and Dick tumbled through, phone in hand, with Damian still following him, but the knife had been replaced with his sword. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were introducing Marinette on twitter!” The eldest whined as he continued to dodge Damian’s strikes. Damian stilled, turning to his other brothers. 

“You what!” 

Marinette rolled her eyes, “Easy Damian. It was my idea. Get a good image out there before people have too much time to theorize about how I wormed my way into the elusive Waynes.” 

Tim just snorted, “Ah yes, Marinette the masterful gold digger who had no idea she was dating the Damian Wayne for the first two months of their relationship.” 

The other boys laughed as Marinette’s face turned bright red. 

“You promised not to bring that up again,” SHe whined as her boyfriend came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her. 

“You know you love us, Angel,” He mumbled as he pressed a kiss into her hair, pointily ignoring the fake gagging from Jason and Tim. 

“Sooooo” Dick drawled, bringing everyone attention to him, “We have about an hour we need to start dinner, and two before he and B get back. Who’s up for a little twitter QnA?” 

_______________________________________________________________________

 The group chat was too hectic to keep up with anymore, no one was sure what was happening, until Chloe texted each of them individually and offered up a conference room at her family’s hotel for them to gather and go over what was happening. 

She was a little surprised that they all agreed, especially Lila. The gig was up, there wasn’t a way for her to convincingly spin this turn of events, not when the Wayne’s were already rushing to social media to defend the girl after the video accidentally went up, introducing her under a brand new twitter. 

If anyone saw that the blonde was already following said twitter, she’d claim it was to keep up with any drama that unfolded from little miss no one dating a Wayne. 

After all, she had an image to keep up, she couldn’t just... 

“Chloe?” 

Her head snapped up to see Adrian standing in the doorway. 

“How on earth did you get here so fast?” She asked with a raised brow. 

He glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck, “I... might of snuck out...” 

She laughed, “Knew school would be good for you.” 

He grinned sliding into the seat next to her, making her relax. 

Their relationship had been rocky for a while, but after Queen Bee made her official debut, they were working through it. She couldn’t deny the fact that his eyes glowed as she tried her best to be a better person made everything easier

“So have you abandoned your ridiculous high road principle?” She questioned, watching him flinch slightly. 

“You know I didn’t...” 

“Yeah, Yeah,” She sighed waving her hand, knowing it was still a sore spot to him that Marinette had taken the advice so poorly before Chloe stepped up and explained what he had meant. 

Keep your head down, don’t draw attention to yourself. Messages that had been instilled into Adrian for years, both to keep out of the media spotlight and, after his mother disappeared, to stay at of his father's way. Lies had never been an issue to him since rumors were always flying around the model and the people he worked with, so while it took him a while to see that the lies that Lila told were different than those written in the gossip columns and were actually doing harm. 

Let’s just say the boy was still beating himself up for that, even if Marinette forgave him. Sadly it was too late to have Adrian come forward on his own to out Lila without it looking like Marinette had just gotten him under her thumb so they had been waiting for their chance.

Chloe was glad to say that that day had finally come. 

“Did you know Damian was the boy Mari talked about?”  He asked quietly. 

“No,” She sighed, “Luka and Kagami had no idea either, you’d know this if you bothered looking at your phone.” 

He shrugged, leaning over her shoulder, “I left it at home, Dad tracked me last time I snuck out with it.”  

She huffed a laugh handing over the phone so he could see the... colorful texts from the pair. 

“I didn’t know Kagami knew any swears in French,” He confessed after scrolling through the group chat. 

“My money’s on her learning them from Ms. Couffaine,” Chloe offered lazily, “That woman swears like a sailor.” 

“She lives on a boat,” Adrian counters, “I think that qualifies her as a sailor.” 

“Whatever,” 

They lapsed into silence as Adrian clicked over to the entire group chat to see if he could make any sense out of it now that the flow of incoming texts has trickled off. 

“Are you okay?” She suddenly asks making him arch a brow, gazing up from the phone. 

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Your lady is in love with someone else.” 

Adrian smiled softly.

 “I accepted that awhile ago Chlo,” He reminded her, back to the day they were all too close when time ran out, when the five of them could no longer hide, “I’m very happy to be her best friend, plus I’ve been thinking that I might look what the cat can drag-in” 

She groaned, whacking him, “You’re ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.” 

“Like you weren’t wondering if you’d be a good snake charmer.”

She squeaked, swatting him again harder as he fell off his chair with laughter.

“I told you that in confidence, not so you can make stupid puns!” 

“Oh come on Chloe, don’t throw a hissssy hit,” 

“I’m a bee, so buzz off!” 

They stared at each other before breaking down into giggles. 

“I hate you,” She whines through the pearls of laughter. 

“No you don’t,” He waggled his eyebrow making her laugh harder. 

Knowing he won he glanced back at her phone only for his smile to twist into a wicked grin. 

“Tone down the Chat in that grin or people will put it together,” She warned, poking his cheek. 

“Marinette and the Wayne boys just said they’re doing a QnA under #Daminette.”  

Chloe blinked a few times before her smile twisted to match his, “There’s a projector in here and we have about five minutes until anyone else gets here.” 

“I’ll grab your laptop and make sure Plagg and Pollen come down from your room,” Adrian said, climbing to his feet. 

“I’ll call Luka and Kagami and ask them to be prepared, and then get Jean to get refreshments and inform Jagged Stone of what’s happening,” She assigned to herself before he nodded and took off. 

Operation Dethrone Lila was officially underway. 

About fucking time

_______________________________________________________________________

Taglist: @kceedraws @northernbluetongue @starry-bi-sky @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @lexysama @vincentvangoose

[shewhowillnotbenamed1]

ProRogue

@ravenfan1242​ - Same Prompt List!  I did combine these two, but I do have Wally Raven in the works. This is a little different. I took some liberties with the NightRae of it all… (Please don’t kill me.) I do hope you like it!

——————

Bubbles ascended to the surface. One by one. In a slow succession…

Pale lips parted, effervescing, as water pressure roiled in her eardrums.

Purple hair pendulous all around her.

As if she was frozen.

Suspended.

In this moment. Though time was not.

The seconds were steadily, surely, running out. And she was running out - of air.

She wasn’t unaware of that fact.

But she made no effort to leave. Or to free herself from confinement - a watery prison.

Still she stayed. And still, she stayed.

Floating.

In the tub… In a pool… In the ocean…

It didn’t matter. She was still underwater.

Drowning.

As she went deeper down, unconscious thoughts floated up.

I think…

I forgot how to breathe…

…but if I did, he would probably just…

Do it for me…

Her eyelids scrunched as she struggled now. The increasing pressure of the watery depths kept them shut. To keep her blind.

“No…”

But it was futile.

At last they opened, pupils constricting… to keep out the sight - the painful reality.

Raven wheezed as she woke. Fighting. Gasping. Pushing off his large arms, and unbinding them from her body. Shoving, until at last, she was freed. Her legs dangled off the side of the bed as she sat up. Her back to him, she panted, wiping sweat off her clammy face.

“Raven…?” Dick rasped, turning over in the sheets to face her. She moved her head a fraction to see his eyes were shut. “You… ‘kay?” He mumbled as he strained to open his eyes. His large hand reached out and it began to toil. Searching the sheets for her.

She watched his fingers. Cautiously edging herself in the opposite direction. She just had to get away. A moment to herself. Just a minute. To breathe. To think.

Couldn’t she just be for a minute?

It hadn’t yet given up its pursuit. Raven continued to stare at his arm’s attempt to bring her in. “Yes… Dick.” The empath insisted with a brisk edge to her voice. She tried to soothe him back to sleep by assuring him. He relaxed the second she placed a hand on top of his. “I’m fine - I just… need some air.”

“Alright, hurry back.” He said sleepily. Blissful dreams. Delirious happiness. Completely unaware. Was Dick Grayson.

He had no clue. Not even an inkling - of her feelings when she woke up in the middle of the night. Her feelings in the dark. He certainly didn’t know anything about them.

Her… Hesitation.

Her… Suffocation.

Her… Languishment.

He was blind to it all.

Raven sighed, drawing up her shoulders with the vastness of the exhale. The sheer exhaustion of it all. She slunk away, barefoot to kitchen.

Where a visitor stood. And it was a welcome distraction.

A reprieve.

The darkened outline turned to face her. A smile etching onto those lips. “Let's talk. You look like you need it.”

A shaky nod and her anxious expression washed away.

And that was how Raven found herself in the kitchen sitting before him. At an ungodly hour. The red dome-shaped mask propped next to his cup of tea.

“Between then and here.” She started to say. “I think I forgot something. Something important. I just feel…” Transfixed by the pattern of tiles on the ground, as her pupils traced the black ones in a diagonal line. Much like a bishop would move. Chess. How she missed chess. Gods, when was the last time she even took out her chessboard? Or did something just for her?

She knew how she felt.

She knew exactly how she felt. But, she couldn’t say it. It was not the kind of thing one could vocalize. Not in mixed company. Not to a best friend or a confidant. Not to a lover or a partner. Not even to one’s self. Not. Ever.

Raven swallowed.

She felt…

That were pieces - and these little bits of her, and they were just slipping away... Into the nullity. Like wisps of smoke from incense sticks. Or… Raven’s lips parted, her vision blurring and unfocusing in front of her now.

Steam from a cup of tea. Like the one she currently had clutched tightly in front of her. She was losing herself. There was no Raven anymore. Now, it was always Raven and. Raven and Nightwing. Raven and Nightwing are out on patrol. Raven and Nightwing are in Titans Tower… Rachel and Dick. Rachel and Dick are out on a date. Rachel and Dick are in their room…

Raven and Nightwing. Rachel and Dick.

It was too much. Too much.

“You just feel…?” Jason urged her, gesturing with his cup.

She was impinging upon a topic that was flowing straight into dangerous waters. And she knew it. And he knew it. “I’m sorry, it’s late. I don’t even know what you’re doing here… Don’t know what I’m doing here. Or what I'm saying.”

The reply he gave, “Yes, you do.” Was simple. But also complex. She watched him as he spoke. Wondering if it really was that simple. “It doesn’t matter what I’m doing here… I’m glad I came, and that I could catch you.” Curious… Auspicious. Suspicious. Though, one always had to be careful around Jason Todd. “Besides after you guys move out of here, I won’t be seeing much of either of you, will I?”

“I suppose…” Raven couldn’t bring herself to offer much more than that. “I suppose that’s true.” He was right. After they moved out. After they left. It would just be her and him.

Alone.

“You guys are still moving out, right?” His aquamarine lighthouse was searching for her. Probing.

She bit back. “You sure are asking a lot of questions.” Her hand curled to clench the porcelain handle. “One would actually think you care.”

Jason blinked as his face settled into a knowing smile. “That’s because I do.” He murmured. “I’m catching up with an old friend. We’re friends.”

“That’s not exactly what I would call us.”

“Fine, Raven.” He said calmly. “I’ll just skip the part where I ask you to confirm the existence of said friendship…” His lips were a puckering pink, as he sipped his tea. “But, friends care about each other - I do want to know if you guys are okay.”

“Of course we are.” Raven replied flatly. Doing her best not to give anything else away. Though it was redundant now. “And yes, we are moving out.”

“Oh good.” The sound of his voice was distorted by the white mug raised to his lips.

“Yes, it’s very good.” Raven hadn’t meant for it to sound so argumentative. It just slipped out that way.

And she was tired.

“Good.” He repeated, giving her nothing. In his tone. In his words. In his expression.

She tried to relax. “Dick’s great.” Raven nodded. “And I’m - good. Everything is great.”

“Right. Great.” He slid his middle finger down the side of the mug.

“Great.” She watched her face distorting the surface of the sleepy-time tea, as she leaned over and blew on her cup.

“Then, you probably should get back to that.” Jason said nonchalantly. Even shrugging.

“Probably.” She echoed. Raven was wondering why she was even continuing to pursue this, when it was clear he didn’t want to talk.

He sneered for the briefest second. And licked his lips, before he muttered. “And you probably shouldn’t be talking to his brother this late - wearing that.” He pointed to the short negligee of mulberry silk and midnight lace. She blanched, as if she hadn’t realized. The robe, too had slid open. Raven had worn it earlier. Dick had commented on it. Moments afterward, she forgot she was wearing it. Raven slid up the right strap, but made no moves to cover herself further. “You always dress up for him?”

Scarlet climbed up her neck to her cheeks. “Not sure that’s any of your business.” She argued. “Besides, I was stifling - sweating… I was sweating in there.” She found herself stammering and blinking a few more times than necessary. “It was hot in the room - our room. It was hot. And I’ve cooled off now… Good night, Jason.” She decided at that moment - regardless of his implications or suggestions - to take her leave. The chair screeched abruptly against the floor. And she stumbled, as she pulled herself to her feet.

Raven shook her head as she marched down the darkened hallway. Slowing her pace the second the doors closed behind her. Why would she try to talk to him? To get advice from Jason? He just seemed like he wanted to judge her. She hadn’t seen him since before the announcement. So she knew, he hadn’t heard. She meant to tell him about it tonight, but after that she hardly saw the point.

He had just listened to her, yes. But when he talked, it was almost as though he was bating her. Wanting her to reveal something, besides her lingerie. The short nightdress, that he had been so unaffected by, yet he still felt the need to comment about it. What was with that? She gazed absentmindedly out the bay window she happened upon, after walking straight past the room where Dick slept. For the second time.

Suddenly a warm arm reached out from the dimly lighted hallway and brushed her shoulder. “Raven -” She whipped around quickly, the sheer sleeve falling down her arm.

“Jason, geez!” Raven exclaimed. Managing to maintain her usual low voice after she took a breath. “What are you doing? You can’t keep sneaking up on people.”

“Hi. Pot. Kettle. Need I say more?” Jason drawled. “Since when can anyone sneak up on you?”

“Since… I’m a mess…” Her tone was exasperated. “Or hadn’t you heard?”

Thick digits descended through the thick hair around his face. “Raven, I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.” Jason paused. His tall, muscular form sagged under the gravity of what he said to her next. “Things are hard, even when you get what you want, huh, Raven?”

What she wanted?

“What I want?” Her voice sounded empty. Directionless. Her head tilted as she peered back at Jason, as though asking for guidance.

“Mr. Perfect?” Jason elaborated, eyebrows raised to punctuate. Clearly, he expected her to agree.

Which she did. “Dick’s certainly perfect…”

“Even with the stick up that ‘perfect’ ass.” The dark-haired man added for good measure.

Raven barely acknowledged the jab. “Someone perfect who adores you…” She whispered. Walking up to the window. “Who would do anything and everything for you. Who wouldn’t want that?” She had that, along with sleep deprivation night after night. The tossing and turning. After all this time, it was getting to her. She wasn’t even sure what she was saying. Who she was talking to. Was she was even talking to Jason at this point? She didn't think…she was. Was she?

She saw his image slid in behind hers in the glass suddenly. The deep voice spoke. “Who wouldn’t want someone who’s perfect? ”

“Perfect…” The purple hair fell behind her shoulders, as she lifted her head. Drawing herself to full height. Regardless, she was still dwarfed by him, overtaken. They watched each other. For several long seconds. There was nothing but the sound of the air filtering itself through vents above them. Without another word. Her arms were ascending, up to his face to guide him right to her mouth. The rough hands laying over hers. The pale cheeks tilting to the side as her eyelids drew to close.

But then, they opened. He reeled her back holding her, steadfast, as their lips hovered just outside the range of the impending kiss.

A million wordless conversations passing between them. She smoothed over the bristles of his stubble, as he clutched her.

The distance between them disappeared right into his mesmerizing mouth. His softness was satisfying. The taste of lemongrass in the lukewarm tea on his lips was delicious. She groaned low and ardent in her throat, nothing short of desperate to feel the tautness pressed up to her body. As her palms parted the unruly waves of onyx, Raven didn’t stop siphoning the air out of his lungs. Not for a second. She clutched him tighter and tighter, as their tongues tasted. Twisted.

Finally.

It was like she could breathe.

At last, she had air. His air. It was sustaining her.

The push of his lips each time they connected, propelled her. Their lips enfolding. And flattening. Harder and harder. Large hands gripped her curves. Slinging her thigh over his hip. Jason’s hands were right there on her lower back, circling the dimples, as she dragged him further into the darkness with her. The feel of his hardness brushing the skimpy panties that she wore. Raven clawed his biceps. Whispering sanctions, her nose slithering straight down scars. On his neck. His arms.

“You know… I only mentioned the outfit because… I like it.” He murmured hotly. “It's sexy.” She was grateful for the admission.

That he couldn’t resist.

“Jason…” She hissed. His fingers thrust under the sides of the silk top. The pressure and heat of the hands on stomach. Skimming the skin to tease and kneading it to please. Upward they traveled. To cup her chest. Jason’s touch brought her to another place. It was mind-numbing. So much so, that she could ignore any guilt. Almost. She tried to shove down any of her unconscious thoughts. But in the back of her mind, she could remember Dick’s comment from earlier - when he saw her.

“You always look so…” he whispered.

“-gorgeous…”

An echo…? In her head. Of Dick’s words and Jason’s…

“In that color.”

Suddenly, they were the same.

One voice.

“Stop. Stop. No.”

This was wrong.

“Raven, what’s wrong?”

Would everyone stop asking her if she alright tonight? Of course she wasn’t.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Raven barked out a harsh peel of laughter. “Look at us? The brother and the girlfriend…” She held up a quivering pale hand. “Who are we trying to convince?” The sliver of light glimmered off of a modest band. The ill-fitted silver band slipped around to reveal a decently sized rock.

He paused for a while. Jason’s hands on hips as he shook his head. Even through the dark, she distinctly saw him mouth the word, wow. Over… and over. And over. Lost in his own head. His own thoughts. Pacing…

The ring didn’t fit.

It was too big. He had offered to resize it, many times. But, by then, she had just lost more weight. Dick thought he knew why.

“For the wedding?” Dick asked, looking concerned. His arms caging her in, as he rested on either of her shoulders. He insisted, his voice a whisper, “Raven… you’re already the picture-perfect bride.“ Then, he smiled and kissed her cheek. "Perfect.”

Even if they did get it resized, it would never fit. Not really.

Jason completed one last angry, uneven rotation before he spoke, a bitter edge to his inflection. “I don’t understand… I don’t understand - how this. You… and him.”

“It’s called… a proposal.” Raven explained, through her gritted teeth. Gritted because she was annoyed with her own antics. She was the one who didn’t understand what it meant to be someone’s fiancée. That was clear. “I meant to tell you earlier…”

“No.” Jason argued. “I may not have known - but you did. How does that make it any different from twenty minutes ago?”

Her lips parted, before her retort. “Don’t tell me you want me to feel guilty about this.”

“No, I don’t.” He said quickly. And he took a breath before he began in a low, serious voice. His eyes never leaving her own. “A proposal isn’t a marriage. Engagements break… Even marriages aren’t forever.”

“Don’t. You. dare.”

“I do. And I will.” He was adamant. Jason’s jaw stiffened. “I will always you give tough love, Roth. And you can hate me for it. But I don’t care. I know what you want.”

Her hands shook. And yet she insisted. “You don’t know a thing.”

“I know that you want out.” Raven regarded him through her dark purple glare. “And you want to use me to do it. It’s alright. I’ll say it because you can’t.” Horror struck the sorceress’s pale face. Before she went cold. She advanced, arms folded.

“Are you right, Jason?” She took another step closer. “Or is this some sort of wish fulfillment?” Raven pantomimed a gesture as though she were weaving one of her spells. And not debating her devotion. The aqua gaze flashed dangerously. “You… stealing your big brother’s girl.” Raven spat. Jason’s eyed her through slits. She could sense the aura around him darkening. But Raven didn’t stop. “The one thing you couldn’t steal. Can’t steal. Because - I’m still his… I’m his and that meant nothing.”

His head whipped back and forth as he refuted this. “It did.” He disagreed. And he was livid. “Yes, it did. I wasn’t the only one feeling that.” A thumb jerked to his chest to insist upon this. “There’s something between us.”

“You were.” Raven maintained. “It’s nothing. And it meant nothing to me.”

“Raven,” Jason rasped. “Why are you fighting me? Or this?” He bit his lip to hold in the desperation in his voice. The long legs closed the distance between them. “Please -”

The petite girl held up a hand and pushed his chest to keep him at bay. “Dick is perfect, and he loves me… I should have never done that. That will never happen again.” Her voice was flat and eyes hollow.

His head hung. The ebony tresses masking his face. Then… he was back up. And he was Jason again.

Jason’s shoulders quaked as he emitted a cruel chuckle. “Who exactly are you trying to convince?”

“I love him.” She said simply. Her brow furrowed as she realized what she had to do. “He’s my family. And yours. You should go.”

But, Jason was ready for her. And she was hardly in a position to argue. “I didn’t forget he’s my family. So, that means no matter where you move, or wherever you go, I’ll see you. That’s a promise.”

“I hope you don’t think you’ll be invited over any time soon,” She retorted. It was low and it was pathetic, but it was all she had left to counter.

“I do think.” Jason said with an air superiority that made her crazy.

“Don’t.”

“I do, because I will…” He smiled callously.

“You won’t…” Raven seethed.

“If not, then…” He leaned into her. Angling his face as closely as possible, so she could feel the brush his words on her mouth. “I’ll just see you - at the wedding.” Jason gave her one last look, and then pivoted on his heel.

That word from his lips…

The final word gave way to the water. The prison trapping her. Her throat tight and choked, as she called after his receding figure.

“Wait.” She lunged after him. Gripping his bicep tight. “I… Don’t go - please…” Pulling, forcing him to turn around. To come back to her. Her white fingers slid down his shoulder to his chest. Where she fisted his shirt. “Please, Jason.” And she tugged him firmly to her lips, feeling the tension in his body dissolve. “Jason…” Raven whispered into his ear. “This is the last time -” Smoothing his mouth to Raven’s, he ripped her robe right off. He lifted her by her hips, carrying her only a short distance, before he slid open the first door he could find.

The Evidence Room.

He cleared the desk off with one long sweep of his arm, and placed her down. Pushing her back flat to it, thighs spread. Jason climbed up to surface, kneeling right between her legs. Her arms outstretched wildly, as she reached for his waist. Dark nails, sinking into his skin, she went lower. Down to his waistband, tugging black spandex over his hips. To free him. His face contorted in a way that bordered on cannibalistic, Jason was sinking. Bringing himself down. To meet her. He supported his weight as he leaned over her.

Raising her shirt over her bare breasts, to expose her. Her back arched when Jason’s hand slid over her core. Another tug to slide her panties to the side. A full mouth trailed along her collarbone, as it curled into a smile. He nibbled the flesh, just hard enough to make her moan. But not hard enough to leave a bruise. They did have to be careful, after all.

His aqua eyes lingered on the sanguine shape of an X on the skull mask tacked to the wall.

“Yes… This is the last time.”

Before a loud grunt, as he took the plunge, submerging deeper and deeper into her water.

Deeper and deeper he went…

Raven inhaled sharply. And deeper and deeper she went…

But this time she could finally breathe.

[psychovigilantewrites]

Chapter 9 - 5 Things

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader

Genre: Smut/Action

Word count: 7,211

Ao3 

Masterlist

A/N: Wow, two chapters in one week! Don't expect this to keep this going lol! This chapter has major trigger warnings for: non-consensual acts, anxiety/panic attacks, mentions/implications of r*pe, violence, drug/sedative use. 

Amazing mood board by: @brokenblossoms36 

Your head was spinning.

Your eyes were watery, your heart palpitating. You struggled to open your eyes, but all you saw was a blur of blinding light. You saw a shadow, a movement, but it was still unclear as the light was piercing your eyes. You tried to shield them with your hand, but found that you couldn’t move it.

You were seemingly tied to a chair.

How did you get there?

Your throat felt dry. A wave of nausea came over you and you gagged, but nothing came out. You blinked away the tears and squinted at the figure now looming in front of you, blocking the light.

It was all coming back to you now.

You were walking from the Academy to the nearest metro station, heading to the public library in Old Gotham- since your usual one burned down. You had noticed a hooded man following you from behind as you turned into a secluded street.

You remember slightly panicking, because despite your training and reflexes, he was much much faster than you were. The next thing you knew, you woke up right where you were.

Your vision cleared as the cloud in your mind disappeared.

Red Hood was looking down at you, arms crossed. This close and vulnerable, he seemed taller than you remembered.

You also remembered that you weren’t Robin at the time. You were a spoiled girl adopted by the billionaire Bruce Wayne.

“W-where am I?” you squeaked, “Wh-who are you?”

Red Hood simply stared.

You tried on the ropes that he tied you with. It was tight, well knotted. You wouldn’t be able to get out of those without assistance.

“P-please,” you quivered your bottom lip, “Please don’t hurt me.”

Silence.

No windows. You couldn’t see a door either. The bright light almost completely blinded you to the dark room you were in.

“My dad is Bruce Wayne,” you pressed on, “He’ll give you whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me.”

You started sobbing, going hysterical in panic.

Then, Red Hood started chuckling. “You’re not a bad actor,” he said.

“I- I- I don’t know what you’re t-t-talking about,” you stuttered in breaths, “Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I p-pr-omise.”

“Quit the act, baby girl, you’re boring me,” he turned around and walked away from you.

Despite your commitment to acting, you couldn’t help but notice his well sculpted ass that was on your eye level as he strutted away.

“W-wha?” you continued, “Please, mister, I don’t know anything. Please let me go.”

Red Hood leaned against a metal table you only just noticed, “I prefer you snarky and bitchy. This isn’t fun. Quit the act before I make you.”

He was calm, as he always was.

You did suspect that he knew your identities, but you couldn’t risk it.

“You’ve got the wrong girl,” you wailed, “I’m not who you think I am! Please, sir, you have to believe me!”

“You know, I never asked,” he began, “How’s Nightwing?”

“N-nightwing?” you gave a watery hiccup.

“Yes, Nightwing, your older brother, Dick Grayson, ex-Robin, Boy Wonder, et cetera et cetera,” he waved his hand, “What else must I tell you to get you to stop? Bruce Wayne is Batman? How about Barbara Gordon is Oracle? Ring any bells?”

You couldn’t help the shock that appeared on your face. If he knew about Barbara, he was more than just a crazy conspiracy theorist. You decided to drop the act.

You gave one last sniffle and looked at him coldly, relaxing against the cool metal chair that you noticed were bolted to the cement floor.

“There she is,” he walked nearer to you again, noting your immediate change of expression when you conceded.

“He will find me, you know,” you told him.

“I disabled the GPS tracker on your phone. Also the one in your pendant,” he nodded at the jewel around your neck that you wore every day. Bruce had gifted it to you on the first year anniversary of your adoption. It was a silver robin with a small diamond glittering on its breast.

You didn’t even know there was a tracker on it. You mentally cursed Bruce for disguising it in a form of sentiment.

“So what do you want, Red?” you demanded. Surprisingly, you were calm. You didn’t feel any fear. Something told you that he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Nothing in particular,” he shrugged, “Maybe I just wanted you all to myself.”

You scoffed.

“What?” he bent down to meet you in the eye. You could see your own reflection on the white lenses of his mask. “Can’t I just want you? I haven’t seen you in so long. Didn’t you miss me?”

You glared at him. The fucker was mocking you. He was right about you missing him, but still.

“Because I missed you, baby girl.”

Even with the voice scrambler, you noticed his voice had dropped an octave. You gulped, and for some reason, butterflies filled your tummy.

He straightened up, “You look so cute in your uniform. The skirt. Which sexist pig designed it that short and made underage girls wear them?”

He squatted down in front of you and tilted his head. “Pink? Adorable.”

You grit your teeth. You could practically hear him grin. You tried to close your thighs but your legs were tied to the chair, forcing them slightly apart.

“Don’t tell me you kidnapped me just to tie me up and take a peek at my panties, Red,” you scowled.

“I’ve done crazier things, baby girl,” he stood up, “What’s wrong with a little talk?”

“So. Talk,” you hissed.

He reached out an arm towards your face. You forced yourself not to wince and maintained eye contact. He caressed your cheek with his gloved hand, his thumb trailing down to press against your lips.

You bit it.

“Fuck!” he recoiled, and then chuckled, “Should have expected that. I do love your feisty side anyway.”

“You don’t know me, Red. Just because you know my identity, it doesn’t mean shit,” you spat.

“I know you’re not who you pretend to be,” he gripped you by the hair and forced you to face him. The slightly rough pull made your breath hitch. “I know you try to hide it from everyone. You're not the good girl people think you are.”

“The same could be said for every other angsty teen. Try better,” you retorted.

He released your hair and chuckled again, “I really did miss you.‘’

“I’ve been busy, you see. Things to do, people to kill, the usual,” he went on, “Did you see what I left for everyone?‘’

“You mean Black Mask? Sorry to break it to you, but it wasn't much of a surprise. It was either you or him eventually,” you rolled your eyes.

“You really are a bitch, aren’t you?” he hummed.

“That's what you get for tying me to a chair,” you snapped.

“You people ought to be more grateful towards me,” he stated.

“Grateful? Really?” you condescended.

“Black Mask was a gift,” he claimed, “Now you have one crime lord less in the streets.”

“Yet here I am tied to a chair,” you sassed.

“Get over it, even the Bat’s done worse than this,” he chided.

“So what makes you so different from Black Mask? You think you're better than him?” you stated. You would be lying if you said that you hadn't tried to answer that question yourself. That you didn't lie awake at night justifying his actions.

“My, oh, my. Don't tell me you still haven't figured it out?” he mocked you, “I don't do this for any profit. In fact, I'm just like one of you.”

“You are not one of us,” you growled, “We don't kill. We're not barbaric like you are.”

“Which is why you won't ever get anywhere!” he argued, “That's what the Bat always failed to get. You can't stop crime. But you can control it. Thats what I'm doing. And I take the necessary steps to achieve it. The Bat is a coward.”

“You're wrong,” you defended, “He doesn't kill not because he's a coward. It's so much more than that. A person like you would never understand.”

“A person like me, huh?” he suddenly said quietly, the direction of his gaze fell towards the side, as if he was reminiscing. The change of tone surprised you. It made you think that maybe he wasn't always bad.

But it didn't matter who he used to be. What matters is who he is now.

“I'll make you see eventually, you'll understand soon enough,” he squatted down in front of you again, “but for now, let's talk about us.”

“Us?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, baby girl, us. Don't you feel like there's something between us? I feel like there's a spark,” he adopted his tone of mocking again.

“Fuck off,” you snarled.

“I'd be lying if I said I don't think of you as I lie in bed, touching myself. You'd be lying if you said the same right?” he put his gloved hands on your bare thighs. You could feel his heat beneath the leather.

You'd be lying if you said that didn't excite you just a little bit.

“You're too full of yourself,” you responded, “And I happen to have a boyfriend. You're the only pervert here.”

You obviously lied about the boyfriend part. You wanted to seem like you had other things better to do than think of him.

Which, for some reason, seemed even more pathetic.

“Boyfriend?” he laughed, “So what? I bet that doesn't stop you from thinking of me.”

His hands slid up your thighs slowly, bunching up your skirt in the process.

“What are you doing?” your voice went high, “Stop that.”

“When was the last time you told a bad guy to stop and he actually did?” he asked.

He had a point.

Still, you didn't like the way that he didn't disgust you. You didn't like the way that he made you want him to go further up.

And further up he went.

Until he paused at the crease of your thighs, and then suddenly pressed a thumb on top of your clit. A jolt of pleasure shot through you.

“Stop it,” you repeated.

He ignored you again, this time pulling aside your panties and ran his middle finger up in between your lips. The middle finger you’ve thought about countless of times.

With the same thick finger, he pushed inside you slowly, all the way to his knuckles. You felt yourself automatically squeezing around him. You bit your lip.

He started sliding it out, and then back in again. It felt so different, having someone else's finger inside you.

Having his finger inside you.

Then, he curled his finger, hitting a spot inside you that you've never touched before, eliciting a soft moan from you.

Your eyes widen when you realised what you just did, and you turned your head away, blushing.

With that, he took his finger out, and then stood up. His crotch was at your eye level, and you could see his hard on straining against his pants. You didn't realise that your mouth watered at it.

“If only you wore skirts as part of your uniform, we could do that again whenever we meet,” he taunted you.

He didn't comment on your moan, nor the wetness that was left on his finger. Instead, he took off his glove and walked towards the table. His back was towards you now, and you couldn't tell what he was doing. You heard a rustle of plastic. He came back with a piece of black cloth from it and walked behind you.

Suddenly, you saw darkness. You began to struggle as he tied the blindfold, but his grip was too strong.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I'm blindfolding you so I can take off this stupid helmet,” you heard him say, and then you heard a heavy thump on the floor next to you.

“You motivate me, you know?” you heard him breathe in your ear, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand. He masked his voice similar to the way Batman did- it was raspy and gravelly. That close, you could smell him. He smelled like sweat, and leather, and gunpowder.

“You make me want to kill more and more,” he nipped your earlobe, “I killed someone for you, you know that? Did I get a thanks? Of course not.”

“What the hell are you on about?” you snarled.

“Fuck, you drive me insane,” he continued, ignoring your question. He used a hand to grip your hair and pull your head to the side, exposing your neck so he could lick a strip on your pulse. He then started sucking on your skin. “I’ve always wanted to mark you like this.”

You felt hot. You were panting, and the worst part was that you could feel yourself dampening your underwear more than before.

His other hand ripped your shirt open, buttons popping all over the floor. He pushed your bra upwards and grabbed a fist full of your right breast, squeezing hard.

“Mmm,” he moaned, “Finally, I get to feel them. You usually wear too much armor.”

You felt dizzy, hazy, blurry. You were utterly consumed by his heat. You tried so hard not to get turned on, but your body betrayed you.

“Tell me, why do you wear lip gloss while on patrol?” he continued sucking on another spot while he started rolling your nipples in between his fingers, “It makes me wonder how your lips would look like around me.”

You whimpered, and cursed internally. Who knew dirty talk would be your downfall.

“I knew you'd like this,” he chuckled at your reaction, “But I feel like you need a reminder of how scary I can actually be.”

You didn't need one. You knew how terrifying Red Hood was. You felt that fear the first time you met him, and again when he pointed the gun at you in that alley behind the bank. It seemed so long ago.

But that fear had long turned into curiosity. You weren't afraid anymore.

“Black Mask couldn't beg,” he rasped, “Because he was suffocating. I wonder what I should do to you.”

His hand went from your tits to around your neck. And then, and then, you felt it. The panic you felt the first time he got his hand around your neck.

You started thrashing about, anything to prevent him from getting a proper grip on you. But unfortunately, you were tied down.

And he was standing behind you, strong hands around your neck.

“Remember this, baby girl?” he started squeezing, “Doesn't this feel nostalgic?”

He was pressing on your carotid arteries, making you even dizzier than you already were, but you could still gasp for breath.

“I still have a syringe of what I gave Black Mask to paralyse him, I wonder what I should do to you?” he then suddenly released you, making you cough and gag, tears streaming down your face.

“I wouldn't want to ruin that pretty face,” you heard his voice move in front of you, “Maybe I should just keep you here to myself and use you. This job gets stressful. You'd be my own personal fuck toy. I'd ruin your cunt over and over again. You want that?”

Your mind began to race. Would he actually do that? No. No, even if he did, it didn't matter. Because Batman will-

“And then you will know how Batman really is,” he stressed, “You'll cling on to the hope that he's out there looking for you. That he won't give up on you. Batman would be the only thing keeping you sane.”

Yes, yes he was right. Bruce would find you.

“But you know what he’ll do instead?” he continued, voice shaking in evident anger, “He will just forget about you. Even after you're dead and he catches me, all he’ll do is lock me up behind bars. And then he’ll replace you with another child soldier to brainwash.”

No. Bruce wouldn't do that. He loved you. He wouldn't give up. He wouldn't move on.

Would he?

Panic started to rise again, you felt yourself hyperventilating for the first time. What was wrong with you? You couldn't break down just after being kidnapped. Why would you feel this sense of impending doom?

No, it's just Red Hood getting to you. You were just giving him what he wants.

“That's more like the reaction I was looking for,” you heard him growl. You flinched when you felt his hand on your cheek. He was wiping away at your tears, and he was surprisingly gentle.

“There, there,” he sighed, “I’m not going to do that to you. I don't hurt innocents. Though you're far from it.”

You tried to calm yourself down. He was just looking for a reaction?

“I just want you to see Bruce for who he really is, baby girl,” he explained, still caressing your cheek. You found yourself leaning into his warmth, “And I want you to see me for who I really am, and what I've been doing for Gotham.”

Before you could even think of responding, you felt something spray on your face, and then everything faded to black.

***

The first thing you noticed was an annoying beeping sound.

And hushed whispers.

You opened your eyes, blinking away the grogginess. You were on a bed that wasn’t your own, in a room that was unfamiliar.

A hospital room. Private, high end. You tried to prop yourself up, suddenly-

“No, no, lie back down, honey,” an aging woman pushed you gently back into the pillows, where you laid back reclined. “I’ll go get the doctor and your father for you.”

Shortly after, in came Bruce, who rushed to you immediately.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay? What happened?” he bombarded you with questions and more than just his usual serious look on his face.

“I-”

“Mr. Wayne, please,” said a man in a white coat behind him, “She needs to recover first.”

“Yes, yes, of course. I’m sorry,” Bruce stepped back and cleared his throat.

You were taken aback. You’ve never seen Bruce this way before.

The doctor flashed his penlight in both your eyes, and told you to follow it. He then performed a thorax auscultation on you.

“Hello, Miss Wayne. I’m Dr. Kevins. I’m going to have to check several things to make sure you’re doing well. Is that okay?”

You nodded.

“Do you feel dizzy?” he asked you, “Does your head hurt?”

“I feel a bit nauseated actually,” you croaked, “And thirsty.”

“We’ll get you some water just a sec,” he smiled kindly. He looked like he was around his late forties, with greying hair and sunken eyes. “The nausea is probably caused by the sedative he used on you. It’ll go away in an hour or so. But most importantly, do you feel any pain anywhere else?”

“No,” you shook your head, “My neck is a bit sore, but that’s it.”

The doctor pursed his lips, and then looked at Bruce, “Excuse me, Mr. Wayne, but would you please step outside for a moment?”

“Why?” he protested.

“It’s okay, doctor,” you voiced, “I know what you’re going to ask me. No, my genitalia does not hurt. He didn’t do anything to me.”

“Okay then,” he sighed a breath of relief, “We did a physical on you while you were unconscious. It doesn’t look like anything’s wrong, except for a little dehydration. We just wanted to make sure.”

“Cool,” you shrugged, “Can someone tell me what happened?”

“We found you unconscious outside our emergency room on the floor,” the doctor responded, “We checked the security footage and saw a man in a red helmet walk in and left you there. He is a wanted criminal. The police are right outside to ask you a few questions. If you’re not ready for that, I’ll make them wait.”

“I’m fine, you can call them in,” you told him.

The doctor left to get the cops, and you and Bruce shared a long eye contact, silently communicating. I’ll tell you everything later, you tried to convey.

He gave you a stiff nod.

“Mr. Wayne, Miss Wayne,” Gordon himself came in through the door, “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m hungover, Commissioner,” you smiled.

“I’m going to ignore that, since you’re underaged,” he chuckled, “Can I ask you a few questions?”

“Shoot.”

He took out a pen and a small notebook from his trench coat.

“What was the last thing you remember before you blacked out?” he began.

“I was walking to the metro station,” you explained, “It was around two in the afternoon. I noticed someone following me, but didn’t think much of it. I remember turning into a secluded area, and then I heard him running towards me. Before I could turn around, I just… Went black. It happened so fast.”

“And this man, what did he look like?”

“He was big. Maybe around Bruce’s size, but I can’t be sure. I couldn’t see his face. He was wearing a baseball cap and had a hoodie on,” you struggled to remember any other details about the man behind the mask.

“What happened next?”

“I woke up in a dark room, with this really bright light shining at me. I couldn’t see any windows, or doors. I was tied to a chair,” you pretended to tremble, “I was so scared.”

“I know, Miss Wayne,” Gordon comforted you, “I’m sorry for doing this, but I absolutely have to ask you to recall everything, before you forget. It’s essential to catch the man responsible for this.”

“I know,” you wiped away a single tear, “It’s okay. I saw a man in a red helmet. But not like a motorcycle helmet. It covered his whole face. And it had white eyes. It looked weird.”

“Did he have a red bat symbol on his chest?” Gordon pressed.

“Uhm,” you bit your lip, “I think so. I can’t- I can’t be too sure. It was dark, and the light blinded me.”

“That’s okay, you’re doing real good Miss Wayne,” Gordon smiled.

You held back a smile at how well Gordon treated you. If only he knew you were the same girl who witnessed Black Mask’s peeled face.

“I- I’m not sure what he wanted,” you stuttered, “He t-touched me. But not there!”

You had to reveal it. There was no hiding it from Bruce this time, thanks to the probable hickies on your neck.

“He… I think he didn’t know who I was,” you invented your lie, “But when I told him I was Bruce Wayne’s daughter, he immediately stopped whatever he was doing. Maybe he didn’t want to mess with Bruce, since he’s… rich and all.”

“There’s no doubt your father is rich, Miss Wayne, but I don’t think something like that would stop him,” Gordon huffed, his forehead scrunched up in a frown deeper than before, “This is interesting. Why would he be scared of you, Mr. Wayne?”

“Maybe he thinks I’m Batman,” Bruce simply shrugged.

You coughed out loud in shock.

“Well, he wouldn’t be the first person out there,” Gordon smirked, “No offense, Bruce, but you’re hardly the crime fighting type.”

“None taken, Jim,” Bruce grinned, “I can’t afford to get my face injured. It’s what gets investors after all.”

“What happened after that?” Gordon rolled his eyes at Bruce and turned back to you. “Did you hear any sounds? Maybe water, or vehicles? Was there anyone else there?”

“Th- that’s all I remember,” you scratched your head, “Next thing I knew, I was here.”

“Okay,” Gordon closed his notepad, “Thank you, Miss Wayne. I’m sorry that something like this happened to you. This one’s a bit tricky but I promise we’ll catch him.”

“I don’t doubt it, Commissioner,” you have him a big grin.

He paused for a moment, suddenly staring at you with an intense look in your eyes, as if he was searching for something.

“What’s wrong?” your smile faltered.

“No- nothing,” he shook his head, “You just- remind me of someone.”

“Your beautiful daughter perhaps?” you suggested.

“Y- yeah,” he nodded slowly, “Yeah, that’s it. You and Barbara both have the same smile.”

“What a compliment,” you giggled.

“You get well soon, Miss Wayne,” he nodded at you and at Bruce, “Mr. Wayne.”

“Commissioner,” Bruce nodded back.

Gordon left.

“That was close,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

Bruce pulled the sofa nearer to your bed.

“Are you really okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, “Just tired.”

“I’ll let you rest. We’ll talk when we get back,” Bruce got up to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“To deal with the press,” he fixed his hair and tie at the glass window, reflecting his handsome face, “Bruce Wayne’s daughter missing for 24 hours and then found on the emergency room floor? The media is going crazy.”

“I bet,” you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, drifting to sleep once more.

You thought you felt a pair of lips press themselves on your forehead.

*** “So. What really happened?” Bruce asked once you settled down in the manor.

You finally got discharged from the hospital after another day they kept you under observation. The both of you were now in the dining room, finishing up a light dinner.

You put down your cutlery and took a deep breath.

“How he got me was the truth, and I woke up in a dark room with a bright light shining in my eyes. First I acted like a civilian, crying and begging. I told him that my father was Bruce Wayne and that he would give him anything for my release,” you began your story, “But he told me to drop the act. I didn't. I acted dumb. And then he asked me how Nightwing was. How Dick Grayson, my older brother was. He told me he knew you were Batman. But what really hit the jackpot, was the fact that he knew Barbara was Oracle.”

Bruce leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on the table, his chin on top of his knuckles.

“So I decided to drop it,” you continued, “I figured if he knew that, he was more than just… One of those crazy conspiracy theorists. Anyway, I asked him what he wanted and he… He was just playing around.”

“Playing around?”

“Yeah, like he wasn't being serious about it. Like he kidnapped me just to mock me. He told me that… He missed me,” you avoided eye contact with Bruce, “He also said something about how we should appreciate what he does for Gotham. That he was technically one of us.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah, exactly my thought,” you agreed, “He has this delusion that he's doing good, more good than we are. He mentioned Black Mask, and how he was a gift. Because now there's one less crime lord in the streets. I told him that he's not like us. We don't kill. And then- and then he got a bit emotional.”

“How so?”

“Well, the whole time he was relatively calm. But when we got to the topic of you,” you hesitated, “He seemed frustrated. He said it's the one thing you will never get. He said that you can't stop crime, and you can only control it. And that's what he was doing.”

“He thinks he is controlling crime?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“And what about… All that,” Bruce gestured to his own neck instead of yours.

You thought of how he touched you, how he had his hands underneath your panties and put his finger inside you. You decided to leave that out.

“He came up behind me and blindfolded me,” you started blushing, “He took off his helmet and-”

“He took off his helmet?” Bruce looked at you, the creases in between his eyebrows deepening, his shoulders suddenly tense.

“Yes, but I couldn't see anything,” you told him, “I was blindfolded.”

You noticed how Bruce relaxed his shoulders- very slightly.

“He said I motivated him,” you continued, “He masked his voice- like how you always do. I didn't recognise it.”

“Go on.”

“He said he killed for me,” you frowned, now remembering that odd statement he made, “I don't know what he meant by that. He never clarified. And then- he started to- do this.”

You waved at your neck, still avoiding eye contact.

“And then he started choking me,” you quickly went on, “He said he was considering keeping me there and… Tormenting me. And that the only thing that would keep me sane is the thought of you coming for me. But then he said that you wouldn't. That you would just… Replace me.”

You glanced at Bruce now, who was just silent, absorbing in everything you were saying. There was on odd expression in his eyes. Was it sadness?

“The last thing he said to me was that he wanted me to see you for who you really are, and see him for who he really is and what he's doing for Gotham.”

You waited for a response.

Finally, Bruce said “I see.”

Very anticlimactic.

“What do you see?” you prompted.

“It's even clearer now that he targeted you to get to me. He's trying to turn you against me,” Bruce spoke.

“I think I got that already,” you rolled your eyes, “But why? And what's this about replacing me?”

He remained silent, staring into space.

“Bruce,” you began, “We’ve been through this. You need to tell me things.”

“There's nothing to tell.”

“There's obviously something to tell,” you argued, “I just got kidnapped by him! Isn't it time for you to tell me who he is?”

“I don't know who he is,” he insisted.

“That's a big fat lie and you know it,” you accused.

“I'm lying for your own good!” he started to raise his voice.

“My own- my own good?” you scoffed, and then stood up, “Haven't you been paying attention, Bruce? I. Got. Kidnapped. By. Him. Obviously keeping me in the dark is not helping.”

“Back down,” Bruce rose from his seat as well to tower over you, “Now.”

“Don't you care about me Bruce?!” you yelled

“Of course I care! Which is why-”

“Don't give me that bullshit!” you fumed, “You keep on telling me to trust you-”

“I said back down, Robin-”

“But trust goes both wa-”

“BACK DOWN, JASON!”

You gaped at him, not believing your ears. You've always been insecure. You always thought that Bruce either adopted you out of guilt, or worse.

As a replacement.

It was the first time he ever mistakenly called you him.

The ghost of Jason Todd had caught up to you.

“I mean- I meant-” Bruce tried to correct himself, horrified at what he had just said.

You turned and left.

***

He was tired.

Jason was tired.

The rain made his bones ache.

The past few weeks had taken a toll on him. He went out almost every single night to do his job- be it kill a few people, extract information, deal with Moehler’s international contacts, and also deal with the people under him who has broken rules or planned to start a coup. They thought he didn't know. He’ll deal with them later.

He had gotten back from his money collecting run, taking the profits from the people beneath him. Through whispers and some interrogating, he found out about some insignificant rebels. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with those now.

He took a shower, and laid naked in bed, splayed on his back.

He probably should put on some clothes. It was getting cold.

Though, he was used to it.

There were so many times when he was a kid living in the streets that he had to deal with the cold without much insulation. Even when he had a roof over his head, it wasn’t like his parents paid for a heater.

Parents.

The reason why he became Robin was because his parents were bad. The reason why he died was because his biological mother betrayed him. And the reason why he was who he is now-

No. Bruce was never a father to him. He refused to admit it.

Bruce was just looking for a soldier to brainwash.

A soldier like you. He had brainwashed you pretty well. Jason wondered what words of encouragement Bruce had given to you, that he probably gave Jason as well, all those years ago.

When Jason saw you start to panic, he knew. He knew that you knew deep down, Jason was right. Which meant that Bruce probably had not changed since Jason died.

Did Bruce ever tell you “good job”? Did Bruce ever fuss over your injuries? Did Bruce ever gave you affection?

He doubted it.

After all, Jason knew Bruce. The only thing Bruce cared about was his past.

Justice.

Or so Bruce liked to call his own insecurities, an excuse to not move on from the traumatic childhood he faced.

Bruce was the fucked up one here, not Jason.

Jason was perfectly sane.

Not that he cared about how Bruce raised you. Not that he cared that you were probably facing the same problems he did, all those years ago. After all, Jason was just using you to get to him. He knew what he was doing was obvious, but it didn’t matter.

It only took one trigger- and you would spiral. As long as you had any doubt about Bruce, Jason’s plan would work.

“Fuck,” he said out loud. The rain outside was hitting hard like pellets on his metal roof.

Jason was tired.

He closed his eyes, and remembered how you looked when he started touching you. How your breath hitched, how your voice went high, how you let out the tiniest moan.

Jason smirked to himself.

You were probably craving him all those weeks you didn’t meet- it was part of his plan after all. And the moment he gave you all the attention you wanted, you got wet.

Withdraw, and then attack.

It was an excellent strategy. To get you to miss him so much that you welcomed his touch.

And welcome him you did.

Jason wasn’t blind. He saw how you looked at his hard on straining against his pants.

Remembering those scenes again made blood shoot to his cock. He remembered finally being able to feel your tits.

Fuck.

He reached down and fisted his cock- now hard and leaking. He gave himself a few light strokes, remembering how much he wanted to fuck you right then and there.

The glove.

He opened his eyes and walked towards his backpack, his erection slapping his lower belly with every step, and took out the ziplock he had put his glove in. He took it out, and collapsed on the bed again.

He was wearing the glove when he fingered you.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the glove.

The smell of leather was overpowering, but faintly, he smelled you. He kept it in a ziplock bag for a reason.

It was equivalent to panty sniffing, and Jason thought about how absolutely pathetic he was being- but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Because you always drove him insane anyway.

His cock was leaking on his stomach, and he stroked himself to the faint sweet tangy smell of your juices on his glove. Maybe he should have taken a taste instead.

Would that have driven you wild as much as it would him?

God, and your tits. It was so soft, so supple, and it was spilling in his hand. He just wanted to see it bounce. Why must you wear so much armor?

Jason was sweating now despite the cold, the sound of rain outside drowning his pants and moans.

He wouldn’t call it backfire, but Jason’s plan to not see you for so long also affected him more than he thought it would.

He stroked himself faster, and squeezed himself tighter, imagining your mouth drooling over the head of his cock.

Fuck. He told you your lip gloss made him think of that, didn’t he? And what did you do? You fucking whimpered.

“Fuck,” Jason groaned. He loved how much you liked it when he talked dirty to you. He loved how you tightened around his finger.

Pleasure and heat built up and spread, making his toes curl. Finally, he came all over his fist, spilling onto his abdomen.

He huffed.

After cleaning up, he decided to text you. It was about time anyway.

Hey, Princess. I'm sorry I haven't texted you in so long. Life just got in the way, and I was facing some personal issues. I hope you're not mad. Anyway, I read about what happened in the papers. Putting the fact that you didn't tell me you were THE Wayne kid aside, are you okay? he sent the text.

He was hoping to prey on your kindness and understanding.

And he saw you typing back almost immediately.

Hey, Jason. Don't worry, I'm not mad. I completely understand. I've had times like that too. And I'm okay, a bit shaken up, but still okay. Also, you didn't tell me your last name so why would I tell you yours? you replied with a winky face at the end.

Touché. Would you be up to meeting me at Robinson Park tomorrow? I'll get you ice cream. It’s the least I could do, he asked.

That would be great! I’ll see you around three? you texted back.

It’s a date, doll, Jason sent with another winky face.

He knew that one text would make you giddy with excitement.

*** Jason was self-conscious in public.

Whenever he walked in the daylight without his helmet on, he felt like everyone was staring at him, judging him. His scars, his scowl, his crooked nose that had been broken and reset again so many times.

So he usually kept his head down, and his calloused hands in his pockets, avoiding the glares he knew deep down was just part of his imagination.

Until he saw you waiting at the park bench wearing a white sundress, the slight breeze blowing your hair, the sunlight shining on your skin.

He straightened up, confidence returning, and even before you saw him, he smiled.

It wasn’t like you made him happy, it wasn’t like he was looking forward to seeing you. Nor was it because you made him feel like the Jason Todd who never died.

No, he was just getting into character in advance.

A character to fool you, manipulate you, corrupt you.

“So, do you come here often?” he said when he crept up to you, making you jump.

“You scared me!” you laughed, slapping him on the arm lightly. And then, your smile faded ever so slightly, and a slight crease between your brows formed, “Not many people can sneak up on me like that.”

“My friends always did say I was light on my feet,” he shrugged, sitting down on the bench next to you, “Could be useful in the force, actually.”

“Definitely,” you grinned.

He noticed the bruises he left on your neck were absent- probably hidden by layers of makeup. He was slightly disappointed. His hickies on your skin would have looked amazing as a contrast to the low cut sundress you were wearing.

“So how are you?” he asked, “Wayne?”

You rolled your eyes, “Like I said, you didn’t offer me your last name, too. Plus, my picture’s everywhere.”

“I don’t really keep up with the news, sweetheart,” Jason replied, “Why would I care about other people’s adopted daughters?”

“I guess that’s true,” you conceded, “You’re one in a million, then. Everyone’s obsessed with that kind of information these days.”

“So enlighten me then,” Jason said, “How did Bruce Wayne come to adopt you?”

“Well,” you started, “My parents have always been trying to get close to him. They invited him for those fancy galas and charity dinners. I remember always seeing him around. When they died, and I was left with nothing and no one, he decided to adopt me.”

“Any particular reason he chose to adopt you?” Jason prompted.

You bit your lip. And then, Jason noticed that your eyes started tearing up.

“Oh, no,” Jason responded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. We don’t have to talk about it.”

What was up with you?

“No, no,” you sniffed, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand, “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m so stupid. I’ve just… been wondering about that too.”

Finally, Jason thought. He thought you would never have figured out you were always meant to be his replacement. He wondered what happened between you and Bruce. He had no doubt that the kidnapping triggered it.

Just as he planned.

“Hey, look at me,” he took your chin in his hand and tilted your head to face him.

Fuck.

It was the wrong move. Because seeing you teary eyed, red nosed, lower lip trembling, so close to him. So vulnerable.

It made his cock twitch.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Jason tried to pull himself together, “Or if you just want a shoulder to cry on, I’ll gladly offer you mine.”

With his thumb, he wiped away a tear that fell on your cheeks. He could see how your long lashes clumped together in the wetness, how your skin was slightly flushed.

He wanted to kiss you and tell you everything was going to be okay.

The thought shocked Jason. So much so that he jolted away from you.

“I- I’m sorry,” Jason sputtered, “I probably crossed a line, or something.”

He looked away, not wanting you to see the panic that was rising. No, no, not here. Not now.

“It’s okay,” he heard your voice, but it seemed so far away, “Jason?”

He tried to calm his breathing. He fisted the material of his jeans and took deep breaths. 5 things that he could see.

The green grass. The blue sky. Someone’s red frisbee flying. Little yellow flowers. Kids running around.

4 things that he could touch.

His denim. The wooden bench. The gravel beneath his feet. Your warm hands.

3 things that he could hear.

A dog barking. The bells from the ice cream man. Your voice calling him out, getting nearer.

2 things he could smell.

His own cologne. And your shampoo.

1 thing he could taste.

He turned to face you and crashed his lips against yours, surprising you. But Jason felt you relax against him, and kissed him back.

Your lip gloss was strawberry flavoured.

Jason broke the kiss, and blushed at you, “I’m sorry. I never know how to act when I’m with you.”

He saw you take the bait. Your wide, curious eyes fluttered downwards in embarrassment.

“That’s okay,” you tucked your hair behind your ear, “I feel the same way.”

“I promised you ice cream didn’t I?” he stood up, and offered you his hand, “Shall we?”

[thisbrilliantsky]

area secondhand fan explains: why there are five robins

OK SO: the first robin was dick grayson, romani son of trapeze pair "the flying graysons"- young (newly batman) bruce wayne witnessed dick's parents fall to their deaths as a result of sabotage, and adopted lil eight-year-old dick, who then (a couple years later??) became his protege/sidekick. and they were adorable and everything was dandy until dick was about eighteen and started wanting more Responsibility but bruce was like, nah son. so they had a Falling Out and dick left gotham and went to bludhaven where he became nightwing (after a therapeutic heart-to-heart with his buddy/mentor superman but that's another story). dick grayson is awesome and Good and Pure and loves his family so much ;-;

second robin: jason todd, abandoned, gutsy street kid - so bruce was being all broody and I Dont Need A Sidekick Anyway Dick Can Do What He Wants but then one night some punk kid tried to steal the batmobile's tires?? and bruce was like???? and the kid tried to fight him??? with a tire iron?? so bruce was like: Yes. He's Perfect. so he adopted lil 12yo? jason. and it was awesome and everything was dandy until three years later jason was trying to find his mom (his real mom - his abusive dad had abandoned him and his stepmom and they'd ended up on the streets and then she abandoned jason?? or something) and bruce let him bc reasons and he found her?? but she betrayed him?? idk exactly how it happened but the joker kidnapped jason and tortured him and then left him in a warehouse and then blew up it up. :((( and bruce was too late. so jason died at 15 and it was awful and bruce will never forgive himself. (and neither will dick......who had patched things up with bruce by now and was Older Broing it up with jason) BUT THEN (in at least one version of the story) somehow or other the league of shadows got a hold of jason's body?? and threw him in the lazarus pit and resurrected him. (another version has him coming back to life IN HIS COFFIN SIX FEET UNDER bc of some superhero science thing AND HAVING TO CLAW HIS WAY OUT ug h) and eventually jason turns up in gotham again as the red hood; and he's.....angry. and angsty. and just. he's mostly mad bc bruce didn't kill the joker. he captured him and turned him over to the authorities, but then he freaking escaped and that along with the fact of the third robin jason's like??? seriously?? i mattered that little to you?? ;-; im so sad

THIRD ROBIN: tim drake, genius and coffee addict, probably - so bruce was all I Am The Scum of The Earth I Will Never Take A Kid Crimefighting Again and being all broody and sad but then this 13yo kid shows up and is like, "hi, i'm tim, i'm 13 and i'm here to tell u what ur problem is" and bruce is like.....where are ur parents. "at home." what are u talking about. "i know that you're batman" ur delusion son. "no actually i'm not, here's a graph of how i figured out that you, bruce wayne, are batman, and that your adopted son, dick grayson, is nightwing (formerly robin)" ........what do u want. "i want to be robin" yeah that's not happening. "oh gee wouldn't it be A Shame if someone were to get a hold of this info........" are u blackmailing me, kid. "a little" are you kidding me. "no." why do u want to be robin. "bc batman needs a robin." .... "ur just a broody pair of fists otherwise, u know" SO YEAH tim convinces him to let him be robin and tim is actually a brilliant detective and everything is dandy for a while (if a bit tense......bruce kinda keeps tim at arm's length for a while, tho dick warms up to him p quick) and then jason shows up again so Drama happens and then??? tim's parents are murdered??? and idk. sad things happen and bruce ends up adopting tim and admitting that he'd always thought of him as a son AND ALSO tim leads the teen titans and is bros with superboy and a bunch of other teen heroes

OK NOW fourth robin: damian wayne, bruce's only biological child, smol and lethal, kitten thinks of nothing but murder all day - so APPARENTLY ten years before (??? when he was training with the league of shadows to get his Ninja Skills or something??) bruce had a Thing with talia al ghul, the daughter of ra's al ghul (the Big Bad Guy of the league) and unbeknownst to bruce, she got pregnant and had a son. bc they are the League of Shadows and are just Extra about everything, they basically raised damian to be a lil assassin and by the time he's 10 he's killed.......idk how many ppl. and he's a genius and an artist but?? his mom and granddad are super harsh as u might imagine. but he grows up hearing stories about how his father is this mighty warrior and worthy opponent and stuff and he decides he wants to meet him so he just?? turns up in gotham like, "Hello Father, I am the son u never knew u had, and I am here to prove myself to u but it's not like i need ur approval or anything, see I am completely competent on my own, in fact i am better than u, see how i effortlessly kill this thug (please love me)." and bruce is just.......lowkey horrified and highkey ????????? and it kinda goes badly bc bruce has this thing where he never kills ppl (see: not killing the joker even tho he murdered jason) and he's v strict about it and he doesn't have the time or the inclination to deal with a murder child. and he inadvertently crushes lil damian's murder heart. BUT dick is there and he's like??? bruce??? he's ur son??? and when bruce is still an emotionally constipated jerk about it dick takes damian under his wing (pun intended) and trains him in the Batfam Way. for whatever reason (i think bruce faked his death???) dick took on the role of batman for a while and damian became his robin. damian pretended at first that he was Above everyone and Didnt Need any training but he really is just a 10yo who wants to be loved and he actually has a really soft heart and he ends up becoming really close to dick (tho he continues to antagonize tim (now red robin) but NOT bc he feels threatened by him that would be ABSURD) and eventually bruce comes around and he and damian start bonding and so everything is dandy for a while bUT THEN stuff goes down and damian gets killed while protected dick. AND ITS HORRIBLE AND EVERYONE BLAMES THEMSELVES (including tim ;-;) bUT THEN talia and the league of shadows throws damian in the lazarus pit and resurrects him?? or something. he ends up in the pit somehow. and bruce comes to get him and he comes home and is robin again and he's become so into this whole "no killing" thing that he is now a vegetarian. and he loves animals. he adopted a cow. and a dog. and. he pretends to be so tough but he's really just smol and traumatized ;-; he wants to be good so badly and he's tRYING

and that's really all i can tell u about the Robin Legacy™ bc duke is p new and i dont actually know much about him :||

thank u for ur time~

[phantomchick]

Reblogging with my long af tags this time as I was reminded of their existence:

#outside of very specific circumstances bruce being Like That makes no sense #at least not on a characterisation basis

#I mean this is the man who refused to agree to erasing a bunch of supervillains memories upon them finding out the JLA's identities

#because taking someone's choices away from them because of what they Might do wasn't okay and thus got his OWN memories erased #as a result

#when heroes like clark zatanna and dinah were on board

#and then they have him doing stuff like ignoring damian's secret prison or waller's suicide squad or beating his kids

#and i'm like what happened to the guy who's so into justice as a concept that he sometimes makes superman of all people look morally dubious

#and that's not a rag on clark it's just that clark comes at things from a different angle and the nuances of things are different for him

#what happened to the guy who tried to redeem joe chill

#what happened to the man who was harvey dent's best friend

#what happened to the guy who raised dick grayson who adored jason todd who let tim drake in during his darkest hour

#whatever happened to the caped crusader?

Apropos of nothing but the whole fucking thing about Bruce being embittered and deadened and rejecting hope is such a bullshit trope in both the movies and the comics. Bullshit on so many levels. The only reason B puts himself through the amount of suffering he does every night while fighting crime is because he believes he actually is making a difference and that Gotham CAN be saved, that there’s something worth fighting for there in the first place - he is literally the most hopeful person within the entire dc universe I mean compare him to literally every hero that condemns Gotham as an impossible to save hellhole. Bruce is prepared to believe in goodness coming out of that hell hole if he fights for it. 

The idea that the kid who saw his parents murdered in an alley and grew up trying to become someone with the skills to stop that from happening to anyone else doesn’t believe in heroes or in people being worth saving in the first place??? When his entire belief system is rooted in every life being worth saving??? Is absolutely insidious grim dark nonsense that detracts from the core of the character and I roll my eyes so hard at it.