#when jason was left to his own devices to make his own suit he had covered legs and arms. the shorts is not whats in his heart

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Jason, especially in that one Teen Titans comic, often complains about the lack of pants he has. And I'm haunted thinking about that at all times

[messenger-of-babel]

Cracks in The Bedroom

Summary: You've never seen Jay crack before, but when he starts it's more broken than you realise. (Arkham Knight! Jason x reader)

Word Count: 2.7K

Notes: RUSHED EDITS. This is a touch late cause of work so I'm a few hours behind (it's like 12:45am rn). I tried to use game Arkham Knight Jason since I am not 100% across knowing all the nuance for this one and didn't have time to pre-read for it. Warnings for manipulation of story and plot to serve my own selfish devices. Otherwise, back to writing Jason again. Enjoy! (Forgive me for the shambles today but I hope it feeds you regardless)

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You couldn’t tell what had drawn you to Jay when you met, or really what had held you together throughout the last year. He was secretive, he was snappy, and he had anger issues through the roof. He’d blow up at the smallest of things, get stressed and crack within a second. You knew he had trauma; you could see it in his eyes. The way that those baby blues burned with a cold fire, a gripping malice keeping him moving each day. It was written over his skin; in the glimpses of scars he wore that he never let you touch. It was imprinted on the J cut into his cheek, and the way he turned his face away whenever he caught you looking at it.

He disappeared every night and came back beaten and blue, shrugging you off angrily when you try to comfort or tend to his injuries. He wouldn’t tell you where he was, pushing past you with a glare to lock himself in the bathroom. His hands would shake as he walked past you, knuckles clenched and fuse lit. His pain was his kindling, and every night you saw him go to burn himself again. 

People told you that you were crazy, and maybe you were. He wasn’t the best partner, hardly able to give you what you gave back. But you didn’t want to give up on him entirely, not when you could hear the soft sniffles coming from the bathroom late at night, the wavering in his eyes when you ask to give him a hug. His eyes flickered with the urge to give in, a bitter longing you knew all too well, but his mouth formed the words ‘don’t you try’ with a venomous tone that had you retracting your arms to your side every time. 

You loved him despite it all, a soft tenderness whenever you looked at him despite how your brain screamed at for you not to. However, you didn’t know if you could continue your life like this. That’s why tonight you were going to break it off, to free yourself from the man who seemed like he’d rather do anything than stay with you. However, when you come home from your restaurant shift, (not that it was much of a shift with the city being evacuated), keys jangling in the stuck lock, your determination falters.

He is shocked to see you as well, eyes widening and pacing coming to a halt when you enter the living room. Like a deer caught in the headlights he stares at you, fingers twitching nervously. You have a sharp intake of breath as your eyes scan across his body, taking in the suit that clung to his skin. His face had a cut and a new black eye forming on his right side, lip split and beginning to scab over. However, what you were more drawn to was the bat like cowl held loosely in his left hand, and the triangle like logo emblazoned on his chest.

It all makes sense to you now, and you step back at the realisation. You miss the wince that flickers over his face when you fall back from him, his eyes narrowing.

"If you tell anyone, you're dead." he hisses. It scared you, breath hitching in your throat. You shake your head, closing the door quietly behind you.

"I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm not going to hurt you." you try to stay calm and approach him, but he begins to pace again.

"Like you could hurt me," he scoffs. "You wouldn't even get a chance."

The sneer he sends your way is coated in venom, digging into your heart with needle-like teeth. "What are you going to do now?" he gestures around. "Now that you know? Do you have questions? demands?" he laughs out, but the sound is dry and angry.

"Are you-" you begin, but he waves the helmet towards you aggressively.

"Am I what? the Arkham Knight? a monster? a killer?" he spits out, eyes burning with rage. "Use your eyes, sweetheart." he sneers, tone mocking. "Of course, I am."

"Are you okay?" you finish softly, trying to reach out your hands for him. He stops for only a moment, tensing with confusion. Then he's back to being the Jay you know, harsh and abrasive. he shakes his head, muttering to himself.

"Like you care, like you care!" he grumbles, throwing the helmet to crash against the wall. "You don't care. You just want something from me. You all want something from me." he hisses, breathing beginning to quicken. You shake your head, trying to keep your body language calm so he knows that you mean no harm. Your fingers burn with the urge to grab him softly before he hurts himself, but you know it would probably end up with you crashing over a table. "I don't want anything from you. I want you to be okay, can we just talk?"

He sighs but doesn’t say anything else, jaw clenched as he turns his head away. You'd been around him long enough that you took it as an invitation to get closer.

You managed to lead the both of you over to the couch, sitting with a space in between you both. "Jay, please tell me what’s going on." you ask softly. Your head feels like it's spinning with the information that your partner (you weren't sure if you two ever really became official) was the Arkham Knight that you had only heard rumours of floating around on the sparsely populated streets. As far as you knew he was going after Batman, but it was all rumours.

"Are you...are you injured cause you're fighting the Batman?" you ask softly, wanting to get answers to those rumours without triggering him further. His fists clench in his lap and for a moment you think you won't get past the stone wall you can see him building, but after he exhales, he nods once. You worry the skin of your lip between your teeth. You never really had a problem with Batman. He was doing more for your city than the corrupt police on the street, and despite him being a vigilante and not bound by the rules of the law, you couldn't deny that his presence made you feel safer in your own home.

"Why?" you press softly, hand hovering out. He flinches the close that you bring your hand, but eventually he lets you place your hand over his. Your skin thrums with the contact, something you had been deprived of for so long. His calloused hand warms under your light touch, and he tilts his hand softly till his palm tilts up. He allows your fingers to creep down lower, until you lightly intertwine your fingers with his.

"Because..." he chokes out, and you can see the way his throat bobs. Your heart races a little with panic, never seeing this side of Jay before. You never saw him get upset, only angry. The blinking of his eyes to fight away the tears was new, and the way he hung his head in such defeat. It made you feel like you were watching a pitiful boy wearing the skin of a much older man, and your thumb stroked his hand softly. "Because this was all his fault. Everything. He gave me this..." he whispered out, the rage seeping back into his voice and other hand gripping his knee tightly. His gloved finger points to the 'J' carved into his cheek, and his breathing quickens when he looks you in the eye.

"The Batman did that?" you ask softly, but he shakes his head violently.

"No." he snaps. "But he let someone else do that. He lets someone else cut me and-" he cuts himself off, breathing irregular as he stops to take a big heave. His lips tremble and he tries to keep himself together. He hated this. The anger that he fuelled into tormenting Bruce was draining into despair.

He hated the way you looked at him, with those big eyes that begged him to spill all of his deepest fears to you.

He hated the way his name sounded on your lips, even though you didn't realise that it was only a nickname, not his real name.

He hated the way how his body seemed to buzz under your touch, blood rushing under his skin.

He hated it because he felt that if he let himself surrender to it, if he let you in, that he would never be able to go back again.

"Please Jay," you beg, eyes pleading. "Please just tell me what's going on."

"It's not Jay." he croaks out, hanging his head. "It's Jason." he raises his eyes to meet yours, pitifully looking through his hair. "Jason Todd."

Your hands fly to your mouth, unable to stop the short gasp. You feel a chill run through your body, freezing you to the spot on the couch. "You mean the Jason that-"

"Went missing?" he scoffed. "Yeah. That's what they he wants you to believe. It doesn’t change the fact that he left me there." The man you now know as Jason raises his voice, standing to his feet with hands clenched by his side. "Batman abandoned me!" he shouts, voice deepening.

You jump, seeing the way that his eyes darken. "Jay-"

"Jason!" he shouts, whirling to you. "Don't play the perfect life now. I know it's anything but." he hisses at you. "You were planning on leaving me too."

You falter, and that's all it takes for him to bring his hands to his hair and grip at his face. "I knew it." he spits out. "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it."

You jump to your feet too, indignation rising in your tone. "That's because I don't even know what we are!" you protest back. "We live together but we don't speak, we sleep in the same bed, but we don't touch. I'm tired of not knowing if you even like me back!" you yell, beginning to feel the anger in yourself rise up.

"You're just going to abandon me too!" he yells, face growing red and eyes growing panicked. "You're going to leave me, just like my father!" his voice cracks at that, and he almost doubles over as he staggers backwards. You shake your head, confused.

"You don't make any sense, Jay." you groan, tears prickling at your own eyes. Jason lets out a half scream of frustration.

"Bruce! Bruce left me with him in there and never came looking." He cries. You can see the war in his mind as he struggles to get his breath back, pupil’s swallowing his eyes until the pricks of blue disappear. You know it's bad when you hurry to him ang grab his wrist, getting no response from him. he didn't try to push you off, or flinch as your hands circled his trying to hold him still.

"Bruce? you said Batman left you there. Bruce looked for you! I remember the press statements!" you plead, heart beating frantically and unsure what to do to help. You were so used to him being cold and abrasive, so distant and aloof that to see him break down like this was eerie and panic inducing.

"They're the same! it doesn't matter!" he shouts, breathing getting irregular. With a strong push you manhandle him back down onto the couch, tilting his face up so you can ease his quickened breaths. "All that matters," he swallows thickly trying to get his bearings back. "Is that he left me. and you will too. Now that you know. Now that you know all of me."

You feel the heart thudding in your neck, pulse beating against your skin. You sink to your knees, tears finally falling over your lashes. You head drops until your arms are on his knees, forehead pressing into your skin. You sob softly, defeat weighing in on you. You weren't sure if you could pull him out of this hole that he had dug himself into. If the web of lies he had been spinning had been strung too tightly around your heart and had cut off the circulation. You felt tired and overwhelmed with what he had told you, mind feeling fatigued.

He was no better around you as you reached up to grip his hand, squeezing it. You can't get your voice to say what he wants to hear, can't find the words that will take the paranoia away. You don't know how to get close to him when he keeps lashing out and pushing you away.

 He can barely keep air in his lungs, and his mind is unsure where to focus, but he tries to focus on anything but you at the moment.

Rage?

He was good at that. It made him feel alive, like he had a purpose.

Sadness?

He had already spent enough of his life in sadness, wasting away in that cell when he was locked in Arkham.

Pain?

Jason Todd had endured enough pain to last him several lifetimes over already.

His lips tremble as words pass past them, half conscious as he says them. If he had a better control on his emotions, he would have kept them down like usual, traded them for some scathing remark that would make hurt ripple across your expression.

"I used to be Robin."

You just look up at him blurrily, and he can see in your eyes that you’re scared of him and his sudden vulnerability. His heart aches, but he knows it’s a pain he deserves. He did that to you, made a good impression on you at a bar once and then signed you up for hell, refusing to let you go.

He guessed he and Joker were alike in some ways after all. Yet he continues.

"He left me. My father never even came looking."

With each word it's like a catharsis on his soul, chasing away the shadows that were wrapped around him. He had been out tonight, hunting Bruce. He needed to go out again soon, once he had licked his wounds clean and known that the damned Bat hadn't found his hideouts. he had selfishly kept you around despite the evacuation, and only now was he starting to regret it.

As he gazed down at you, he could see more of him in you than her would like, the fragile hope in your eyes already webbed with cracks.

Had he really done this?

Contrarily, you stared up with a soft kind of pity. This was the Jason that you never got to see, the one that got out of bed in the middle of the night to go for a walk and come back with red rimmed eyes. The one who made the quiet sniffles behind the locked bathroom door, the one that hid his scars from you not out of anger, but out of shame and embarrassment. His eyes flicker between your face and the hand that you begin raising, until it strokes along his cheek. He has the urge to pull away, to flinch, but he lets your fingers ghost just barely across the skin. He understands your silent ask for permission and accepts in by gently turning his face into your hand.

A small smile flits across your face then, filling in the cracks that had formed in both of your hearts. "I won't leave if you won't" you whisper, and his breath begins to even out. Maybe you were an idiot. Maybe you were deluded. Maybe you were just dumb in love.

"I don't care about everything that you think is going to scare me off," you say softly. "If you...if you promise to try with me, I'll try with you too. I won't abandon you, Jason," you say, using his full name. It feels foreign on your tongue, but you like the way it makes the corners of his lips twitch upwards. "If you won't leave me behind either."

That night was the first time that you saw Jason Todd smile, and unbeknownst to you, it was the first time in years he had even tried.

[mutable-manifestation]

Ghost Chirps AU Part 5

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

Part 4

***

While “Jason” (i.e. Alfred with an empty jet that Jason will meet up with later in order to “arrive” in Amity) hops a private jet, Red Hood is busy searching the Fenton home from top to bottom.

The local police move slowly, and by the time they arrive Jack and Maddie Fenton are both tied up and disarmed in their living room under heavy guard.

They hadn’t been restrained immediately, Batman talking him into giving them a chance to implicate themselves first.

Hood let him take the lead, but he didn’t even get a chance to ask a question, being cut off at the first indication he might want to talk about their “work.” Less than 60 seconds in, and the pair had outright confessed to violating the meta protection acts - and in tedious detail.

The questioning didn’t suffer any from them being tied up.

Far from the mulish silence or crocodile-tear laden denial of most criminals, they instead doubled down, insisting that nothing they had done was illegal, then jumping to the assumption that they were “possessed” - and boy had it been a nasty surprise when the whole house came alive trying to attack them with a quick verbal command.

Well, trying to attack Hood. And only him, for some reason.

One laser also freed the Fentons, who turned out to have even more weapons built into their suits. 

Somehow. 

Despite them being skintight.

That had been a pain, but Red Robin was able to hack the system using one of the couples’ own devices while Hood dodged - and kept the stray fire away from the others - leaving everyone else to recapture the pair. A blessedly simple task once they found out the lasers would splash harmlessly off of their armor (save for a gross film of green goop left wherever they grazed).

They take turns knocking each unconscious to change them in order to properly disarm them - Batman and Nightwing taking Jack first, followed by Orphan and Spoiler dealing with Maddie. 

The only non-weapon laden clothing they own turns out to be pajamas. 

This is around when the police show up, looking hesitant.

They, too, cite the “Anti-Ecto Acts.”

Oracle had debriefed them on the supposed Acts and “Ghost Investigation Ward” on their short drive over. Both were utterly bogus - the Acts had never even been proposed, let alone been approved as law, and the so-called “GIW” had no ties to the government.

The Fentons had been furious and denied the information intensely when told, but the cops mostly just looked relieved.

Apparently there’d been a lot of property damage by the GIW and Fentons both that had supposedly been dismissed under the Acts as “necessary in the pursuit of ecto-scum.”

For the Fentons, half of this damage was in the form of broken fire hydrants, cracked sidewalks, and totaled cars - they’d never been good drivers, before, the cops disclosed, but they’d become even more negligent since the ghosts began appearing, to the point they had to have a news segment warning when they would be on the road.

The lack of fatalities thus far had been nothing short of a miracle, they claimed.

“Of course there haven’t been any fatalities!” Mrs Fenton defends. “Our work is to protect people from those things, not make more! Officers, listen to reason-” Hood snorts disdainfully -”The Red Hood is clearly a ghost! All our systems targeted him the moment they came online - and they only target ecto-entities. He’s clearly taken these heroes under his sway - why else would they be working with a murderer!? You have to do something before he starts up his killing here in Amity!”

The officers look at him a bit hesitantly, but Batman is unmoved and gives the cover story Hood had outlined back in the alley.

Any concerns the locals have are quickly assuaged.

But for the whole explanation, Jason is trying not to shake even as he falls apart in place.

Their little website called them ghost-hunters, making it pretty clear what “ecto-entities” meant. 

Their system supposedly only targets ecto-entities.

The system had only targeted him.

The system only targets ghosts.

Jason had died.

A lot of his family members had died, too, granted. 

But Jason was the only one who seemed to come back wrong - anger sticking in his throat and never quite fading, an inclination towards violence even when he wasn’t angry well beyond what he’d ever felt before, and a sea of other emotions (that he would never acknowledge aloud) and triggers for those emotions that he always struggled to make heads or tails of.

He doesn’t have the meta gene. He knows that. He knew that.

He just assumed that the test missed it, because he knows he doesn’t know magic - the All Blades being the only exception - and he couldn’t think of another explanation at the time.

But he came back wrong.

And as he stands there, he wonders if he came back at all, mind on Solomon Grundy.

Wonders if he isn’t just some ghost, wandering around possessing his own corpse.

He jolts, as the thought strikes him: what about Danny?

If he’s a ghost and chirping is a ghost thing then what about his KID!?

Absently, he notes that Bruce has started interrogating the cops on what they meant by “ghost attacks.” 

He ignores the discussion, hustling for the door in the kitchen down to the lab.

He slams and locks the door behind him - in Red Robin’s face - as he descends, making a b-line for the computer he’d seen when the Fentons had dragged them all down there to start bragging about their crimes.

The only thing Oracle could get out of the whole building was things that were openly available online; direct connections were impossible.

Opening up the screen, he gets to cracking.

Going for the surface level files first, it turns out he doesn’t even need so much as a password to find what he wants.

One of the video game sub-files has an unrelated file in it: ghost notes.

There are plenty of other notes, of course, but he’d only been skimming to start, looking for anything hidden.

The Fenton parents were too open to bother, of course, with plenty of more obvious files strewn haphazardly across the home screen, but it’s always better to check. That there is a hidden file means it was likely made by either Danny or Jazz.

And it’s a treasure trove.

Sub-files for rogues, allies, conditional allies, and “halfas” were what greeted him.

The last being the only term he didn’t recognize, he clicked.

6 files: Clones, Danny, Dani, Dan, Vlad, and Red Hood.

He clicks his own file.

What greets him is a picture of himself 4 days ago, looking just to the left of the lens in an alley that he distinctly remembers searching for the kid in.

Just below is text.

~~~

??? Name: Red Hood

Species: probably a halfa

Status: Nnnneutral? I think? I know, I know, heads in bags. But Valerie tries to kill me all the time! And we’re allies sometimes! Hood- uh- looked for me? Okay I guess I can’t really judge this yet but please read the first met section before you judge please you guys?

First met: Aug 17, 2005, was in Gotham to bother Batman, stopped to think a bit on some fire escape - decide on the first prank yknow - but then my ghost sense went off. It felt like a halfa so I thought “oh cool, must be Dani” so I chirped, but then Red Hood - who was chasing some guy down an alley at the time - froze and looked around. I dropped visibility and chirped again and yeah, he definitely heard it. Humans can’t so he’s definitely a halfa - no glow so he can’t be a full ghost and it felt nothing like an overshadowing. 

Ended up following Hood around the rest of week - forgot to prank Batman, damn - and playing hide-and-seek with the chirps. It was really funny. But he very obviously doesn’t know he’s a halfa. But the guy is, like, scary levels of smart, so I’m sure he’ll figure it out on his own now that the chirp thing made it clear that something is up. Hopefully.

I figure I can go back in winter break - he should have it figured out and let his emotions process enough by then to at least hear me out when I explain the AEA and GIW and everything, then it won’t matter so much if he can, like, track me by voice or something if I talk since we’ll have MAD by then.

Despite his reputation, the people living in his haunt seem to love the guy. I can see why. On top of the whole smart he’s actually really nice to people he’s not shooting in the knees (which only even happened one time in the week I was there? It was actually pretty relaxing - most quiet week I’ve had since the portal opened THANK YOU TUCKER for hacking the portal hatch to be inoperable for a week). 

Where was I? Oh yeah, he’s actually surprisingly nice to people? So like, I think he’ll probably hear me out if I go back and be polite? I hope. Hate to leave the guy in the dark and him end up on the GIWs dissection table for “lots and lots of painful experiments.”

Not that those guys could even catch the Box Ghost. But uh, Hood doesn’t seem to have powers either? Or if he does he doesn’t know about them I don’t think - he only used the chirp the whole time I was their - not even to cheat with moving around.

Seriously. That guy's acrobatics could make Freakshow’s contortionist green - er, red??? - with envy. Actually wait, aren’t contortionists and acrobats different things?

SAM NOTE: help^?

Powers: 

?

~~~

Jason leans back, breathing deeply.

“Not a full ghost,” “not 'overshadowed'” - a term that sounds likke some kind of cousin to possesision - “definitely a halfa,” “humans can’t hear chirps.”

Halfa. 

Half. 

Ghost. 

Half Ghost.

It should sound absurd - you can’t be half alive and half dead.

But Jason has seen the Lazarus pits, has met Solomon Grundy, has met aliens and bullshit magic and can pull magical swords out of his own damn chest.

Half alive. Half dead.

Hopefully not just a fancy way to say possessing his own corpse.

He doesn’t have time to deal with every file - he’ll “confiscate” one of their USBs with a copy of everything for himself before leaving the rest to Batman & co, of course, minus the halfa files (a small part of him wants to shove his condition in Bruce’s face and demand he kill the clown again even though he knows it’s a futile hope, but the rest - the same part that snapped and denied and refused to say he was a meta less that a day ago now - cannot stomach the thought of even more rejection. Of a Bruce that believes he’s a monster. Of a Bruce that mourns him even while he’s right there. Or at least, more than he already does.) - but while the files copy he take the time to look at Danny’s.

The image has two people, Danny Fenton on one side and a version of the kid in a black hazmat suit with white hair, tanned skin, and painfully familiar green eyes. And floating.

~~~

Human Name: Danny Fenton

Ghost Name: Danny Phantom

Species: Halfa (half-human, half ghost)

~~~

It’s the section after that that makes Jason’s breath catch in his throat.

~~~

Death: The Portal Accident

So like, there was no audio (thank GOD I do not want to hear myself screaming) so. Details: When the portal didn’t work when they plugged it in mom and dad left for fudge, Jazz went to try and talk them into a more realistic career choice than ghosts. Sam and Tucker came over and Sam dared me to climb in and check it out - it was broken anyway so no harm. Except it wasn’t broken, just that my parents put the on button inside. Which I caught myself on when I tripped on a wire.

Anyway, electrocution! 

(T - Danny for the love of god be more serious, the cheerful tone is creepy)

(D - Hey! I’m the one who died! Shouldn’t I at least get to write my own epitaph)

(S - …Danny this is not an epitaph. You don’t even HAVE a grave)

(D - wow way to rub it in Sam)

(T - yeah Sam)

(S - ugh! Whatever, just stop with the chatting in official files)

(T - “official”)

(S - Tucker.)

(T - shutting up now)

Electrocution! I got zapped to death, but the ectoplasm from the portal was also opening up on top of me and a lot got bonded to me I guess (S - probably because of the electricity with how you ended up with some of Vortex' powers for a little while) at the same time said electricity was reviving me? - probably getting my heart beating again or something, I was a little busy screaming to pay attention (T - yeah okay we're going to Nasty Burger after this. And playing Doomed) - not that it would’ve mattered without the ghostification preventing me from melting me all the way to death.

Status: Me!

Powers:

Chirps! (ghost echolocation of some kind! humans can't hear em - halfas can, of course, in either form)

Form Change (really Sam? This barely counts)

Human form

Ghost form (no need to breathe)

Flight (last clock speed 210mph) (T - and climbing. Dang dude)

Invisibility (S - don’t forget shareable.) (Shareable. sigh)

Intangibility (Shareable)

Ecto Rays (eyes & hands) (T - and butt) (D - dude! I’m deleting that. Tucker why can't I delete it. TUCKER) (T - bow down in awe of my ksill) (S - ksill) (D - ksill) (T - yeah okay it’s permanent now) (D - aw man!)

Ghost Sense (S - why do we never test your range?) (D - no need? They always make themselves obvious or are being sneaky specifically to annoy me so *shrug*) (S - I still think we should test it)

Power Absorption (that time with Vortex’s weather powers)

Cryokinesis (Wayyyyy to much ice. NOT testing max output on that) (T - yeah frozen city was enough, let’s not cause an ice age. Tech needs some cool but too much is still bad and I just upgraded Patricia)

Ghostly Wail (cone of destruction, very exhausting - always at max output. Not to be used)

GHOST FORM ONLY (but really just never)

Cartoon Body (D - what???) (S - Freakshow literally turned you into a puddle and you just turned back and were fine. I don’t know what else to call that) (D - okay fair. but:)

GHOST FORM ONLY

Physical Enhancement (better strength, speed, stamina, durability, reflexes, balance, etc much better than human) (T - why does this look like dnd knockoff stats haha)

GHOST FORM ONLY (S - obviously mr last place in PE)

Resistances (pretty solid on the overshadowing, avoided being taken in by Ember until targeted, didn’t get turned to stone during the Medusa thing) (S - which was pure luck! Be careful!)

Ecto Electricity (ghost stinger, but I really don’t think this counts Sam. I mean I just. Make my ecto zappy. But it’s still just ecto) (S - so is your ICE and you don’t just call that "just cold ecto") (D - fine, but it feels overly specific) (S - maybe writing it all down will make you stop. Forgetting. POWERS!) (D - come on Sam that was a lucky hit! I was distracted! And it turned out fine!) (S - Fenton…) (D - oop okay doing fire now)

Ecto Fire (made Dash’s shoes melty that one time by make the ecto hot) (T - really needs more testing)

Tech possession (chasing Technus into computers, not very tested)

Ghost form only, i guess?

Overshadowing (control people, copy their voice, invade dreams - the control one erases the person’s memory so they don’t know they were overshadowed just lost time. I hate Walker. SO much) (T - rip Danny’s reputation, you’ll be missed)

Probably ghost form only

Duplication (T - That’s optimistic) (D - I’M WORKING ON IT OKAY!?) (S - pretty sure it just falls under cartoon body until you can actually separate) (D - :( betrayal)

Probably ghost form only

More? (D - ugh I hope not) (T - hey don’t say that, maybe you’ll get a power to make the JL give a crap about Amity) (D - honestly I’m getting pretty close to letting Boxy loose in Gotham) (S - Danny, don’t stoop to their level!) (D - it's only box ghost!) (T - I mean he has a point)

~~~

Jason changes his mind, seeing the commentary, and deletes the entire hidden file from the computer as soon as his copy is made. He can go over everything and bring any important info to Bruce separately, the bat’s can just chew on the parents’ files for now.

Once the original files are thoroughly and irretrievably removed he pockets his shiny new USB, makes a second one with all the official files, and heads back up and out - carelessly brushing past a thoroughly irate Red Robin with a pair of firemen and broken jaws of life. And not a scratch on the door; impressive - just in time to get Oracle’s text that he’s got 2 hours and 16 minutes to be at the location on his HUD so he can “arrive” to Amity.

And a fresh set of civilian clothes will be waiting in the plane, Alfred as reliable as ever.

“Files,” he says, tossing the safe USB to Batman and interrupting his interrogation of the police officer.

He catches it effortlessly of course, but the officer stops paying attention to him to jolt at Hood’s reappearance - even outside of Gotham his reputation is fierce.

“I sent a copy to myself. I’ll review them and give you an overview, but other than that consider this the end of my involvement in this little shitshow,” he says, continuing smoothly to the door. “I’m heading back to Gotham.”

Now, he has a little over two hours before Jason Todd needs to arrive in Amity Park. He only needs to lay hands on a laptop that he can isolate from Babs’ influence and he should be able to review the Halfa files in full before he "lands" - after he figures out just why the kid has a grudge against the JL.

[not-another-robin]

Wayne Manor is an All Autistic Household - AKA I'm projecting

Part 1: states of dress

I've said it before and I'll say it again: if Bruce is left to his own devices he'd never wear clothes. He hates fabric and fabric hates him. He wants to be released from the shackles of human civility but unfortunately he has 6 children he doesn't want to traumatize. He still can be found in just his underwear and robe (and one sock somehow) after a particularly difficult case. Also, he forgets to take the bat suit off often.

Also previously discussed, Alfred needs to wear clothes at all times. He hates being unclothed so much it's unreal. He is also very strict about what clothes are 'appropriate' for what time. The kids can count on one hand the times they've seen him in proper pajamas, if he's woken up in the middle of the night he's decked out in robe and cap and slippers and Night Ascot. Every Christmas they wake up earlier and earlier to get him to come down in his pajamas, it has never once worked.

Dick does wear clothes but he wears any clothing that crosses his path. Steph's workout leggings? Sure. Damians xs hoodie? If it fits over his head why not. He has to expend brainpower to come up with a comprehensible outfit and too often he has no braincells to expend. Also he forgets to wear shoes. He has gone all the way to work barefoot and had to turn around.

Pre-death Jason was definitely "running around in boxers until Alfred scolded him" kid, post-death he's wearing a hoodie AND sweatpants AND fuzzy socks at all times. He runs cold, go figure. He cannot walk around on non carpeted floor without slippers or socks, he hates being barefoot. He sleeps with socks on, the monster.

Tim the pinnacle of teenage boy, He'll wear a shirt if he's already in it but he won't go through the effort to put one on, if that makes any sense. He sleeps shirtless so he stays that way most weekends. He is the prime breaker of the 'please put on a shirt while people are over' rule. Unbelievably specific but: when his hair gets long enough it starts to bother him, he'll use his shirt as a bandana to get it out of his eyes. Yes it looks ridiculous. No he doesn't care.

Damian is the only one who endeavors to remain clothed as he doesn't like not wearing them, but he has problems with changing his clothes. He routinely goes to sleep fully in the outfit from the day. If left to his own devices he would just go a week in the same outfit without changing. They had to have an extensive 'you cannot sleep in a suit' talk. He doesn't change out of his school uniform when he gets home.

Duke is yet another shirtless teenager, but he takes advantage of the Many Robes of the Wayne household. He thinks it looks cool until Damian points out he looks like a stepmom. He still wears them though, they're so soft.

Cass likes to steal hoodies. No hoodie or sweater or robe for that matter is safe, they all end up in Cass's Horde. She also denies her crimes because she thinks it's funny. Other than that she loves soft pajamas, but usually ends up in shorts. She has walked around in a sports bra sparking a lively debate as to what counts as "shirtless"

[augment-techs]

Question Game. What does self-care look like for you? Biggest lie you ever told? What is your biggest heartbreak? How do you keep yourself somewhat sane? + Coinless Jason

(For the sake of my sanity and everyone else's, I'm going with the open Huntsman AU version of Jason, because at least he is carefully curated in my head for vengeful activity in later works and this gives me a reason to talk about him.)

What Does Self-Care Look Like?:

Self-Care for Jason is having access to shaving tools and eating a meal that smells good and has a calorie count that will keep him alive for three days if he becomes trapped somewhere. It's not exactly healthy to focus on things that he had to rely on through the goodwill of Drakkon or Skull's trickery in their shared hallway in their cells, but it makes him feel less jittery than if he just leaves his stubble to grow or lets the staff of Promethea or the Rangers of the Prime Universe provide him with food.

Biggest lie you ever told?:

There never seems to be an end of the lies he's had to tell to make sure the Omega Rangers allow them to keep using Safehaven's Master Arc.

That he's sure that everything in the Coinless universe is going fine with Drakkon stuck in the Prime even though they left Billy still under Drakkon's obedience spell and he was too clever to be left to his own devices.

That he was perfectly healthy because Drakkon kept losing bets to the Red Ranger even after being in what amounted to solitary confinement for a little over seventeen years.

That the Green Dragon Coin from Drakkon was being cleansed with ease while they waited on their collection of turned Sentries to be returned back from the timelines and dimensions that the Grid had accidentally (or meaningfully) pulled them to when The Void was brought back into the Grid.

But if pressed, he might have to go with the fact that he ever said out loud, "Everything's going to be fine," before Drakkon stole the White Light from him... Maybe.

What is your biggest heartbreak?:

Watching Skull go through a two year cycle of being made to dehydrate, starve, and drown in the cell across from him without being able to do anything but make it worse when he cursed out or goaded Drakkon about not being able to PROVE Skull was a spy.

That and the time Jason got double pneumonia, was totally out of his mind calling for his mother, and woke up one morning a year to the day from being freed by Promethea to find himself out of his armor prison, curled up in a ball with his head on Skull's lap, the man brushing his hair like he was five--just the way his mother used to do it for him.

It was the best he'd felt in years and he'd gone back to sleep thinking it was a dream or a hallucination and not something to worry about. Which was completely false as he'd woken up hours later, his fever broken, to the reality that Skull had in fact managed to get out of his own cell, through all of the locks and codes for Jason, gotten the Red Ranger out of the prison armor without setting off the alarms, and had pissed Drakkon off horrendously.

All of this without breaking any rules. He had not tried to escape, he had not tried to help Jason escape, and Jason had never seen Drakkon shocked into silence at someone addressing him--to his face--about showing ethical obligations towards the prisoners under his authority.

Drakkon had let Jason remain inside his cell without being bound back into the prison suit for three days, but Skull had been removed to somewhere else during that entire time. And when he'd been placed back into the armor, Drakkon had a showcase set up on a screen across from him so he could see a movie showing off exactly how "merciful" he was when his authority was questioned--even by a sentry Captain whose charges of treason and espionage hadn't been confirmed.

The recording had sound, but there was never any screaming involved. The only screaming and crying came from Jason when Drakkon grinned and told him Skull would be back only once Finster had sown him back up again.

How do you keep yourself somewhat sane?:

Observing that there were, in fact, versions of Tommy Oliver that became wonderful fathers and husbands, teachers, teammates, friends, and even martyrs and being allowed to realize that Jason's mercy wasn't a defect in his character.

Talking with Kimberly in the aftermath of The Void, both of them in Ranger Colors again, though the White on Jason took a little getting used to, it wasn't as painful as he thought once Saba was taken back from Drakkon despite the madman's screaming and cursing at theft and ownership and how he'd won. The two of them were damaged horribly, but in different ways that made them both think they'd they'd gotten off luckier than the other; as fucked up as that was.

Seeing that even in the heart of darkness that was Drakkon's palaces and army, there were some good people that had helped the Coinless in their own ways under a guiding hand of an ally, even when Skull was in prison and couldn't offer a word without all of them at risk of being horribly killed.

Planning out how to return to the Coinless world and relieve Billy from his duty as regent, as well as remove the spell on him.

And learning music. Not just songs, but how to read sheet music and even play an instrument or two, despite having not special talent for it. Given that it had built him up back into being something close to sane after so many years completely alone except for Drakkon, it seemed the most obvious thing to embrace in his freedom.

@ajgrey9647

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

[justcourttee]

Could I request when Marinette first meets the Batfam (One as Marinette meeting the Wayne's, one as Marinette meeting the Batfam, one as Ladybug meeting the Wayne's, and one as Ladybug meeting the Batfam)

I’m so so sorry it took so long. I loved this so much and grossly underestimated how long it would take me to do this prompt justice. I decided on a whole bunch of short stories that tied together and several days of editing and rewriting left me with this. 

I hope you enjoy it! @elements1999

The First Time

The first time Marinette met the Wayne’s was at a charity auction that she dragged Adrien too.

With her first year of earnings beyond her imagination, Marinette wanted to donate some to charity and who better than Bruce Wayne. She read all about his many donations and auctions, how he came to the rescue of orphaned kids and hospitals struggling to stay afloat. She might not know much about charity, but she knew this man would put her money to good use.

It didn’t take long for Adrien to wander off, his hopeless romantic self trailing after every beautiful person he saw. He advised her to find her own beautiful person, after all, this world revolved around connections, and she needed more than just Adrien.

She set her eyes on a prominent looking man around her age. His attention seemed fixed on the older men he was entertaining, their conversation dragging, but the more she watched, the more she could recognize his own boredom. If anything else tonight, at least she could save him from succumbing to social suicide.

“Excuse me sir, but I was wondering if I could steal a moment of your time. I had a question about, uh, the stocks of your business.”

His eyebrow cocked as a playful smirk pulled at his lips. He knew that she had no intention of doing such things with one glance. She was impressed. As he excused himself from his company, the man offered his arm which she readily took.

“Now Miss, what questions could I answer for you?”

“Hmm, well, we could start with how do you put up with such dreadful conversations for hours on end? You looked like you were five seconds away from passing out.”

Tim, she soon learned, was the business partner of Bruce Wayne and his adopted son. He mostly dealt with the partnership side of Wayne Enterprise which meant enduring boring old man for hours on end at these types of events. They continued on with small talk as they walked the ballroom, but eventually, Tim had to excuse himself to yet another group of old men.

Marinette shook her head, slightly amused at the sight of him putting on a game face. Maybe she could ask Tim to help her with the partnership side of MDC. Right now, her current co-owner was off making plans for an after-party, not a sponsor.

“This is outrageous! I have my invite right here, what do you mean not invited? Brucie gave me this,” he shoved the piece of paper into the guard's face, “this morning.”

“Sir, a paper that says, Jason, my favorite son, this is an unlimited pass, does not count as an invite. Sorry.”

“You know, something tells me you’re not really sorry.”

Marinette bit her lip trying to hold back her laughter. For the second time in one night, it looks like she would have to be the knight in shining armor stepping in to save the damsel in distress.

“Jason? I told you not to leave your invite on the counter!”

The man widened his eyes at her as she crossed her arms, a fake disappointment monopolizing her face.

“Excuse me sir, but this is my date. He didn’t arrive home on time for work, so I left his invitation on the counter! I didn’t think he would be dumb enough to forget such a small piece of paper.”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry babe, please forgive me?”

The security guard didn’t look convinced, but he sidestepped allowing Jason to enter. Immediately he threw his arm over her shoulders as he dragged them away from the entrance as quickly as possible.

“First off, thanks for getting me in small fry. Second, who are you? The guards aren’t that stupid, they know we’re not together, but for some reason, it only took one look at you and they let me right in. Are you like sleeping with Bruce or something?”

Marinette’s face paled as she tried to stutter out a denial.

“Oh God,” Jason bursted into laughter, accidentally dragging her down with him as they doubled over. “Oh god, I’m sorry. It was too good, your face was too good.”

Marinette landed a punch in the man’s side with a sickening thud, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he had the audacity to ruffle her pristine hair while wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Anyways, fess up, who are you really?”

Her time with Jason was much different from Tim’s. She honestly couldn’t believe that they were raised by the same man. Tim was constantly calculating his every sentence, watching her for signs of a slip-up or lie. He was composed the entire time, careful not to insult her as if she was a potential business partner. Jason? Not so much.

They traded insults and jabs at each other before turning their attention to the room insulting anyone who dared to step into their line of view. Marinette would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit disappointed when he had to leave to find Bruce.

She spent the next few minutes wandering around the room until another damsel caught her eye. To put things lightly, Marinette was a little confused about who she was saving. The smaller man was maybe a couple inches taller than her and while the taller man was looming over him. However, it was the look in the smaller one’s eyes that screamed danger.

“Hello sir, I seem to have wandered off from my group, would you happen to have the time? I wouldn’t want to be late to the auction.”

Whatever argument the two were engaged in instantly came to a standstill as they seized each other up before turning to face her. The taller one flashed her a blinding smile before introducing himself as Dick.

“My son here is Damian and I’m sure he’d be glad to show a beautiful woman like yourself back to the auction site.” He placed a hand on Damian’s head, giving his hair a ruffle for good measure.

“You are not my father Grayson, unhand me at once.”

Marinette covered her mouth slightly trying to hide her giggles. She knew these two. They were the few exceptions to the press rule, always doing interviews as a brotherly team, maintaining the loving family image.

“What is so funny woman?”

Marinette cleared her throat trying to swallow any remaining laughter.

“Oh nothing, it’s just, you all are so different than I imagined, it’s quite refreshing.”

Damian shot her a quizzical look as if he wasn’t sure whether to be complimented or offended.

“Well, if you like little bird so much, we should definitely get you back to the auction! This year, he graciously volunteered to be the surprise celebrity date.”

“Gracious is not the correct word Grayson. You all blackmailed me.”

“Details, details, so what do you say, Miss?” Dick waved off the accusation before offering his hand to her.

“Marinette and I would be delighted to save him from the woman here.”

They chatted idly as they made their way back, neither oblivious to the slight red tinting Damian’s cheeks. When the time came, Marinette made sure to place the first and last bid for Damian Wayne. And before the end of the night, she had four numbers to match her four new friends.

“Marinetteee, I didn’t find a single soul tonight that was there for a good time. What a bunch of sticks.”

Marinette chuckled as she slid into the limo, patting Adrien’s head with fake sympathy.

“A bunch of sticks indeed.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The first time Marinette met the notorious Batman, she had gotten herself in over her head.

She had just wanted to find this new fabric shop that Jason had suggested, who would’ve known that one wrong turn in Gotham and she would end up in Rogue territory.

It had started just a handful of punks, intent on robbing her. Sure they had some knives, but she wasn’t worried at all. She only started freaking out when they seemed to duplicate right before her eyes. At the rate she was going, she was going to be overrun, no question about it.

At least until the man dropped from the sky. Marinette didn’t have time to process what had happened, instead she used the distraction to knock out the nearest goon. Even with the new help, they were still being overwhelmed.

“It’s time to get you out of here Miss, unfortunately, the two of us are not going to be enough for this guy.”

“This guy?”

Surely he wasn’t insinuating these masked men were one guy, right? He didn’t answer her as he pulled her into his side, sending his grapple into the dark sky. The landing was slightly rough as Marinette rolled to a stop, stumbling to her feet to get a good look at the man.

His suit was odd. Everything was fine from the coordinating red and black to the yellow robin perched on his breastplate, but what really did it for her was the spandex black hood covering his hair and eyes seemingly connected to his cape.

“My God, Is that connected to your hood?” Marinette pinched at the material covering half his head, amazed as it snapped back into place immediately. “You know you could really hurt yourself like this?”

She paced around him admiring the handiwork of his suit. If she had to make a guess, this was most likely Red Robin. Her eyes narrowed in around the neck, a small string almost unnoticeable sat at the base.

“Ohh I get it now, you pull this little string right here and it’s like an emergency relief. Okay, I’ll let the weird hood slide.”

He seemed to pay her no mind as he slipped the small device in his hand back into one of his many pockets.

“Ma’am, backup is on the way, I’m going to have to ask you to stay right here until one of us lets you down.”

“Hmm, would this be considered kidnapping?”

Red Robin stumbled over himself trying to explain that it was for her own safety, that Batman would never kidnap her. It took everything in her not to bust out laughing from his distress. She waved off his rambling as he watched him jump back down into the herd of men below.

Now that she was alone, maybe she could transform, help him. She turned from her spot only to come face to face with another superhero.

“Oh no, you can’t skip away, I’m pretty sure Red told you to hold your position.”

“Dude, I just really was trying to get to this 24-hour fabric shop that my friend told me about. I can’t help that danger just seems to follow me.”

The man clicked his tongue before reaching out to ruffle her hair in an annoyingly familiar way.

“Sorry small fry, just you and me until Red down there can relay a plan.”

Small fry? Only one obnoxiously fun person in Gotham City has referred to her like that and the more she stared him down, the more the gears started to turn in her head.

“Do I look good from that angle? Am I mesmerizing to you? Is the moonlight reflecting off my hair blinding you?”

If she had any doubts before, the ridiculous poses from the man in front of her only confirmed what she had thought. Before she could ask, the man quickly placed his finger up to his ear, his face dropping to deadly serious.

“Okay, so princess, I’m going to have to ask you nicely to stay up here. Robin should be here at any moment to make sure of it, but the situation just got a little bit more dire. Nice meeting you though, try not to fall in love with me when I save your life.”

Marinette wouldn't even respond as she leaned over the edge watching the fight ensue down below. Another two heroes had arrived, one in a blue and black suit, the thin mask concealing his eyes. The other?

“Oh mon Dieu, that’s Batman!”

“Are you always this obvious?” A hand barely touched her shoulder and on instinct, Marinette gripped it, pulling the attacker over her back and slamming them into the roof.

“Oh, oh, oh, I’m so sorry Robin. I guess I got a little spooked from the fight down below.”

The man stared at her with an unreadable expression before adjusting his hood, scooting a couple inches back before standing. He kept one hand on a small piece jutting out of his ear that she only assumed was a comm as if waiting for instructions.

“Hey, do you know the identity of the other’s down there?”

“Tt, of course I do, what kind of question is that?”

She shook her head, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“Nothing much, just wondering. You know, Red Robin said something about those goons being one guy, does that mean you guys are looking for one person in particular to stop the clones?”

“How do you know so much about Multiplex?”

“I don’t,” she shrugged her shoulders as nonchalantly as she could. “I’m just trying to get a grasp of my situation. If you were to ask me though, they’re not going to find him in the crowd down there and even if Batman is looking for the direction they could be coming from, he has no vantage point to see.”

Robin paused for a moment as if he was going to regret the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Fine, if I were to ask you, where do you think the main copy is?”

Marinette pointed wordlessly to the building they were standing on. Reaching out, she grabbed Robin’s hand pulling him to where she stood.

“Unhand me wo-” Marinette placed her finger on his lips waiting for him to silence before motioning over the edge to where the alleyway entrance was propped open.

“When I first got here, that’s the direction the first three came from. Now if my theory is correct, this Multiplex guy doesn’t need to be on sight to create copies and once he creates a copy, that copy can multiply no matter how many times it’s beaten down. So him sending only three out, can make six men minimum, right?”

Robin simply nodded, but she could see the wheel’s turning in his head, matching her own.

“You’re saying that if I enter that door down there, he should be somewhere in this warehouse that we’re standing on.”

“I’m saying if we go down there with an inhibitor collar, we can help Batman.”

“Absolutely not Mar-Miss. It’s too dangerous for a civilian. You can stay right here.”

All it took was one reminder that she had flipped him on instinct and he was the trained one for Robin to bring her down with him. In a matter of minutes, Robin had taken down Multiplex, surprised that she was right.

They were in the middle of an argument when the others stepped through the door, all wearing the same shocked expressions.

“Miss, what were you doing here this late at night?”

Marinette paused, the sudden realization that she was indeed standing in front of Batman, arguing with his sidekick that she was more competent than he was, how embarrassing.

“I really was just looking for this 24-hour fabric store that my friend Jason told me about. Do any of you know anything about that? Oh, better yet, can someone take me there? I really have so much work to be done and so little time to do it in.”

The five of them exchanged glances as if they weren’t sure who should go. It was like watching an involuntary ‘nose-goes’ game.

“Robin will take you.”

There was a slight grumble, but even he couldn’t hide the blush peeking out from under his mask. It only took five minutes by grapple and as he sat her down on the pavement, Marinette pecked his cheek.

“I think you might need a new disguise little bird,” she sent him a wink before turning to enter the store, unable to hide her own blush forming.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The first time Ladybug met the Wayne’s, she was in the wrong place at the right time.

She just wanted to drop off a new Lgeimat recipe that she had definitely not been trying to perfect ever since Damian mentioned his middle eastern heritage. So, you could imagine her surprise when she found Poison Ivy standing on the mansion’s doorstep.

Setting the plate on top of the call box, Marinette wasted no time transforming. Slinging her yo-yo, she pulled Ivy off her feet, landing on top of the woman as the door swung open.

“My lord, what do we have here?”

Alfred stepped backward, his eyes scanning over the scene in front of him. Marinette wanted to shove her yo-yo into Ivy’s mouth to end the string of curses falling out. Honestly, it was enough to turn the tips of Marinette’s ears pink.

“Master Bruce, your visitor has arrived and with a friend,” Alfred called behind him, stepping out of the door frame only to allow Bruce to fill it instead.

“Mr. Wayne, I was patrolling and a young woman came running up frightened for your safety. She said she was on her way to surprise you when she caught sight of this rogue on your doorstep.”

Bruce looked slightly amused. Marinette wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried at that fact.

“What may I call you Miss?”

“Uh, Ladybug.”

“Miss Ladybug, Dr. Isley here was my guest tonight, not an enemy, but I can understand the confusion. We had a new arboretum to talk about. Would you please release her?”

Marinette was sure her face matched her suit. She quickly withdrew her yo-yo, offering her hand for Ivy to stand. The woman ignored her, still cursing under her breath as Alfred led her inside leaving Bruce to stand with her on the porch.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Wayne. The young woman sounded frantic, I was only trying to help.”

Bruce waved off her apology, even going as far as inviting her inside. She politely declined, trying to escape before she could embarrass herself even further. But it was futile. They finally settled on a picture with his sons who all were apparently big fans from her Paris days.

Marinette tried to feign ignorance to who the boys were, but it was so hard as they fawned over her outfit, asking her a million and one questions about Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. Even Damian seemed impressed by her standing in front of him.

“Oh my, I almost forgot.” Marinette took off in a jog to the front gate. “The young woman asked if I could deliver these to the youngest Wayne and I’m assuming that’s you.” She returned, handing off the plate to Damian whose eyes instantly softened.

“Lgeimat” it was barely a whisper, but Marinette felt her heart flip at how fond his voice sounded over the fritters. “If you see her before I do, please thank her.”

Marinette nodded, too scared of her own voice to answer. Bruce motioned for them to gather together as he pulled out his phone, snapping several photos at once. When she left, Marinette was jealous that she could never ask for a copy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The first time Ladybug met Batman she had accidentally landed in the middle of their meeting on top of Wayne Tower.

As soon as her feet hit the rooftop, all voices silenced, five sets of eyes landing on her position.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize this rooftop was taken, I’ll be on my way.”

She quickly unwound her yo-yo, ready to take off when a hand grasped her wrist, forcing her to stand down.

“Please, Ladybug, we actually have a few questions for you.”

It was Dick, no, Nightwing. She was sure without even having to look him in the eyes. No one else ever used such a soft gentle tone with her. Securing her yo-yo back in its rightful place, she nodded, walking over to where the rest of the group stood.

“Nice to finally meet you Ladybug, how long have you been in my city?”

The only thing holding her back from her theory that the Wayne brothers were the bat boys was the idea that this crude man in front of her was really Bruce Wayne. She had heard of split personality, but he took it to a whole new level.

“Quite a few months now. I try not to go out much considering this is your city to protect, but I had to out myself the other day to save a civilian. Turns out he didn’t need my help, but I figured it was in the open now that Paris’ hero was in Gotham City. Surprise?”

Red Hood looked like it was paining him to try and not laugh as she and Batman continued their staredown.

“When will you be leaving?”

“I’m not sure, I’ve started to grow fond of some people here, makes me want to settle down.”

She heard the hitch in Robin’s breath making her smirk stretch even further at the idea that he liked the thought.

“Would you be willing to reveal your identity to me? I don’t like unknowns in my city.”

“Only if you reveal yours first.”

She crossed her arms in mock defiance as Batman’s lips pulled into their own smirk.

“You’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“You’re Bruce Wayne.”

There was a moment of silence where neither party said a word. The others seemed to be glued, unsure who was going to move first. With a great sigh, Bruce reached up, pulling back his mask to reveal his face. Marinette smiled as she called off Tikki, revealing herself in the middle of the rooftop.

“I knew it. See, pay up Timmy boy.” Jason threw off his mask before lifting Marinette in the air in a bone-crushing hug.

“I was dumb to bet against it,” Tim pulled off his hood, a smirk monopolizing his face.

Dick didn’t even bother to let her regain her footing before sweeping her into a hug of his own. As he sat Marinette down, she couldn't help the nervous chuckle that escaped her lips as she turned to face Damian. His face was unreadable as he pulled back his hood. Slowly he reached forward, his hand tentatively touching her cheek as if to ensure that she was real.

“I, uh, wanted to thank you for the dessert. Nobody has really gone that far for me before and I, uh, appreciated it.”

He took a step forward, his whole hand cupping her cheek sending the butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy. Just as she thought something could happen, an arm around her shoulder pulled her swiftly out of Damian’s reach.

“Okay lovebirds, not in front of his dad! Princess, you can’t steal this boy’s first kiss in front of his daddy.”

The first time Marinette cried in Gotham City was that night. Her laughter turned into tears of joy as she watched Damian and Jason nearly kill each other while Dick and Tim placed bets. It would be the first time she felt this kind of joy, but far from the last.

After all, surrounded by Gotham’s biggest idiots, her friends, there were sure to be many more firsts.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous

[friggsdc]

Title: little delinquent pt iii

part ii | part iii | part iv

Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort, Jason’s language

Word Count: 4700~

Synop: It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” he tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

-

A/N:  tbh I cut the last chapter in two, this is the second half ee;;;; but I rewrote it to be it’s own chapter tho haha. Hum… this doesn’t pick up exactly where the last chapter ended, but it’s still all here. c’: Also, if you wear glasses, just know grumpy ol’ Bruce would probably force contacts on you in public (he’d see them as more ‘professional,’ and glasses as a danger/hazard in the field). Glasses are for home only sighs.

Ngl I see lexcorp similar to westworld’s delos, lotsa fancy designs ee;;;; Cadmus like nasa test rooms, clinical as heck with little to no windows, and wayne ent with Alien franchise’s archaic but advanced spaceship tech, or dracula’s castle with cubicles lmao

-

             “Hey, Jaybird…”

Normally he knew what to expect, normally he’d open the door braced for a tackle, so when the rush of wind never came, he was at a bit of a loss. There you were, dressed like Bruce for some irritating reason. A size-too-big of a jacket, zipped up over a uselessly thin black turtleneck, a pair of black gloves, pants covering everything, and a pair of black lace-less… boots… with red… soles…?, and a suspiciously familiar-looking kid in your arms…

There was a slight guilty look on your face as you gauged his reaction, he could tell, you were nervous.

Wait.

He eyed the kid something scary, his voice grounding out, “so, who do I have to murder?”

“You weren’t gone that long, you know.” Snorting, you pushed past him into the small safe house, frowning at the bareness of it all before situating Terrence on the floor mattress. “How you sleep on this thing is beyond me…” he just shrugged, “too used to it? Answer the question,” he pointed at the kid while closing the door, “who?”

Agitated.

“Terrence,” said child was looking around, but there was only so much that would grab his attention, as empty as the room was.

“His name is Terrence, and he’s no one else’s, he’s… mine.”

“You just said it hasn’t been that damned long—” his frustration was building; he wasn’t liking where this was going, not that you were aware which direction his head was headed at the moment, you’d just gotten here.

You shook your head, “don’t tell me you…” his anger settled into a dark scowl, but you refused to look at him, “you can’t seriously bring more kids into that fucking prison.” He was so conflicted, it was you, but you were still a Wayne. It scared him to think of more children stuck in that lonely mansion, becoming bitter like he had.

You remembered what Dick had said days earlier when he first saw the child,

“Jason—” you began, a slight warning to your tone.

He didn’t care,

“Don’t be like Bruce.”

His voice was so cold.

Terrence had crawled his way over to the legs of the table in the makeshift kitchen, eyes on a prize as he began trying to figure out how a chair worked.

“You know, that actually hurt.”

You didn’t hate your father like Jason projected, but you knew the way he spoke about him, the way he expressed his feelings, that he ‘hated’ him. It was a half-truth, you knew. Jason preferred not hurting you, next to Alfred, you were more tolerable than the other family members. 

Somedays Tim and Dick made that list. Somedays. 

But that didn’t mean he was actively trying to be kind, he wanted it to stab.

Petty. Resentful. Haunted.

He went to say more, but stopped, fists shaking slightly from anger.

You were staring him down, that same look of disappointment Bruce would give him when he made an obviously stupid decision, as if he were still a Robin in training. Like your father, you could read him like an open book when you tried, it made him feel vulnerable, guilty, small.

Fucking frustrated.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he was at a loss for words, “…shit.” He turned away from you, coming back to the moment as he tried to reign in his temper, “it’s just…”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

Instead of continuing to argue the point, too used to his outbursts (Alfred and your family primed you too well for dealing with the unstable emotions of others), you walked over and wrapped your arms around him, head resting on his clothed chest, “missed you, Jay.”

Almost hesitantly, his arms returned the hug, his head burying itself in your hair, “sorry…” he breathed out, almost too quiet. He was tense as you pulled back a bit, reaching up to grab his face in your gloved hands as you leaned up on your toes, pulling his head down to yours. You touched your forehead to his, making certain to be gentle, “Honestly, it’s okay Jay. I forgive you, okay?”

“Cold,” his hands cupped your (oddly chilled) gloved ones, eyes searching your face before he shifted, head nodding slightly, rubbing yours. A heavy sigh escaped him, an awkward smile forming, “so, how’s my cutest little sister been?”

Glad that he was trying to get past his guilt, you shook your head, “a roller coaster. Dad’s upset at me.”

He just snorted in amusement, relaxing a little as you continued, “And how was California? The Titans? I miss Kory…” you blinked at his flat expression, “what? You were at the Tower, right? With Kory and Roy, and the others?”

Wow you ruined the moment fast.

“Aaaand that’s where you stop being cute. I swear this family is full of creepers. I think Dick’s the only normal one,” you tilted your head as he kept his hands firmly on your shoulders. “Honestly, you and Tim are terrifying, your brother is a demon, and I don’t even want to describe Bruce.”

“Glad you didn’t include yourself in that, zomboy,” he groaned, “that’s hurtful,” then he pouted, finally getting a good look at you.

Terrence was old enough to stand on his two legs as he held onto the chair, but he kept stumbling as he moved uncertainly. His eyes were focused on his mission as he started trying to climb further up.

Something clicked in the back of Jason’s brain, sudden realization dawning, “what…” you sighed, his hand moving from your shoulder, “is this…?” You refused to meet his stare as his fingers hooked on the zipper of your jacket, “uhm…” you flushed as he pulled it down, a bright red bat in his face.

There was a sudden sparkle in his eyes.

“Huh, didn’t expect you to be that much of a fan.” You were burning from head to toe now, refusing to look at him at all, rubbing the back of your neck with a thick swallow. “That… that’s kind of the problem…”

“What, that you’re walking around with my colors?” His grin seemed disappointed, but turned a bit more concerned at the frown you leveled at him, “it… let me explain… I think I need help…”

“Definitely gonna need explanations. A lot of them.” The kid was one thing, this outfit was another. He made to sit down, and you followed, leaving Terrence to his own devices for the moment. 

It’s not like there was much trouble to get into, everything of worth or danger was out of his reach.

“…yeah.”

“…”

“…”

“What is it?”

“…Why’d you think I slept with someone? When you first saw Terrence in my arms?”

He leaned away from you, chin resting on his palm, propped up on the arm of the couch with his elbow, “I’m your brother, and he looks like… it’s… I’m supposed to get upset about that… just… answer…” he did his best to keep a straight face, but eventually he had to turn away, looking at the wall, ears burning.

“Hm…?” you leaned towards him and he didn’t have to look at you to know you had a less than innocent smile on right now.

“Creep.”

You just laughed as you leaned into his side, causing him to crack a small smile, still not looking at you.

-

[“So… How to start this…”]

[“The suit, first, Terry after.”]

[“Terry?”]

[“The kid. Just explaaaaain already, uuugh I have patrol in a few hours…”]

[A heavy sigh, “Okay, then... So, you know how Lex helps fund the Society’s shenanigans?”]

[“…oh.”]

[“Yeah.”]

-

When it came to most places, breaking and entering was always easier at night, but for the LexCorp building? Nighttime came with problems, it came with heightened security, rigorous control, and the easy ability to spot something that was out of place. There was also your youngest brother who had filled you in on his adventures with Jon once, not a single detail of the LexCorp building having been left out; he was a thorough kid.

It was far easier to infiltrate during the day, the number of staff on the security team, the cliques of scientists and researchers, and the average workers meandering about made it easy to blend. You had donned a pair of (older prototype) smart glasses, normal from the viewer’s perspective, an integrative matrix mapping AI system from the wearer’s. Well, it could do more, but this was what you needed, the constant reconstruction of old building plans for more accuracy as you walked around.

Tim’d made some amazing things over the years, such as his matrix encryption to keep your work phone quiet, scrambling any noticeable connections that could be traceable. But this one was probably the coolest in your opinion, and he had yet to see the return of said glasses since you wouldn’t give them up, and he could never find where you’d put them. The glasses were a useful subtle change from the norm, a quick disguise, the security barely giving you a glance-over as you entered the passcode for the ID tag you wore, walking into the building.

With a slight wave from you, and a “Good Afternoon!” from them, getting in the backdoor was always the easy part. There were two more women next to you chatting in excitement and you made to stick close to them, parting only when you came upon the women’s locker rooms. The badge number Tim’d tracked down for you was useful until it wasn’t, Lex’s problem was needing levels three and above extensive background checks on anyone hired, and Tim knew exactly where to look.

-

[“Like I said, terrifying.”]

[“You do the same thing.”]

[“That’s a bit above my paygrade, usually I ask Tim for help when I need information from behind top-of-the-line security walls.”]

[“Oh.”]

[“Yeah.”]

-

Next was invasion of personal privacy and property, and a lot of it. You’d have felt worse if it weren’t for having been raised this way, “you’ll find out that people are just that, some sick and twisted, some happy and kind-hearted, but in the end, we’re all the same. Eventually, nothing will surprise you,” your father would say.

It didn’t take long, going through a few lockers and purses, letting your glasses do most of the work. They were able to see in a three-dimensional matrix, constantly being constructed behind most any material or metal. There were plenty of lab coats in varying sizes to choose from, and you spotted one badge and wondered who the dumdum was. You had plenty of electromagnetic strips for your ID if you needed a switch, but it seemed unnecessary. Some people left their everything when they clocked out, too.

You’d secured your purse around your stomach and under your shirt, the bulge flattened at your side, tying the ends in place. It would uncomfortably dig into you, but you couldn’t leave it behind and it would only be for a short time.

No one had paid you any mind, too busy rushing to get in and out of the locker rooms, and you made to escape with a group of women in the same coats as yourself. The group and yourself came to an elevator, and you let them do all the work. One of them scanning their ID for the group, the rest blurting out the number of the floor they needed to get to, and yourself joining in. A strange calm settling as you got more into the coworker attitude.

Seventh level Research and Development wing.

-

[“Not his office?”]

[“Why?”]

[“I dunno, there’s probably some terrible top-secret info in there.”]

[“I mean, I was on the main R&D floor, how much more top secret can you get?”]

[“Touché.”]

-

The entire R&D area was made up of floor to ceiling glass window dividers, a white and chromatic color scheme, and a lot of tightly sealed doors. You honestly didn’t even need the glasses to find the head researcher’s office, it was written in huge bold letters next to the dumb door on a plaque.

Weaving through a few people with their eyes busy reading clipboards and cellphones, you eyed each inch of the floor, and wondered if the other stock standard R&D floors at LexCorp were similar. No one paid you any mind as you stood in front of the group of office doors, all packed neatly in a little corner, and each leading to a different R&D office. They were mostly empty, only one occupied, most of the techbros and techgals were out and about doing work.

Again, the glasses did the decoding work for you, getting you the set of numbers you needed to enter the room. Unlike the rest of the lab, this office had less windows, though the few it did have were still large. Though they faced out rather than in, and it also wasn’t as large and as roomy as you’d have imagined. The Wayne R&D offices being waaay bigger in comparison.

Taking out two small flash drives, you shoved the sticks into the lone computer on the desk, booted it up, and just let them do their thing. Having the computer start with the flash drive, it acted as an executable program, letting it bypass any needed passcodes or security clearance for now.

One for unlocking the system, the other for information storage.

No doubt someone will notice that.

You wondered briefly if this was how the Cyborg felt, only ever having gotten to see him briefly before he utterly devastated an entire operating system. He then rebuilt it to his preferences, all in the matter of seconds. Tim had always lamented not getting to watch when you described it.

Notably, it was quite lovely how LexCorp’s researchers had everything organized in a folder subsystem so well. You were able to track down the needed information in less than a few minutes through the root directory.

Gotta be faster.

However, as you stared at the processing bar on your information download, there wasn’t a whole lot to do. Clicking the monitor’s sleep button to dim any light, you stood up and strode over to the door.

Being the lookout for a computer program was a new one.

-

[“Pfff.”]

[He snickered behind his palm as you smacked him on the shoulder.]

[“At least you got in without needing to hack anything yourself. Get dunked on, Dick, Damian.”]

[Light laughter echoed.]

-

Nothing had happened by the time the computer let out a small ding, indicating the download had finished. With both flash drives now pocketed, you turned to the next problem: getting out.

It really shouldn’t have been that hard, it was so stupidly easy to get in, thank you new temporary coworkers, but as you eyed the group of security detail by the elevator, you made a hard turn to the side.

Had you gone through the front doors instead of the employee entrance, you would have seen a ton of security. Through the back however, they really were only at certain check points, it’s not like just anyone could get in. So of course, there was no way they would have been able to get so far as the head office of any department.

How long had you been gone from the others? How long did you still have on Tim’s encryptions?

Oh heck.

The options were now trying to squeeze by the security, which was doubtful, they were checking everyone, or figure out a way to base jump without any gear. Neither option sounded appealing, you had no wings or grappling hooks with you, and it was still midday.

The corridor you turned into went from full on glass to a partition supporting windows, half and half, split horizontally to allow for more privacy, probably.

This was also exactly where you didn’t want to be.

Frick.

Most of the rooms looked like chemistry labs, charts everywhere, huge gravity convection and forced-air ovens, and thermo-freezers that looked like they belonged in meat markets. It was almost overwhelming at how cool some of these things looked as you searched for an exit. So filled with anxiety and adrenaline as you were, you almost missed it out of the corner of your eye. It was the red shimmering of a glass bowl on your face that made you notice it, the barely-there stream of sun that caught it just right.

You wasted no time getting to work, the door just as easy as the others, passcodes, they were all passcodes. Where were the fingerprint and retina scanners? Hell, where was the facial recognition scanners? You’d come prepared for so much, so you were incredibly confused at the lax security features. But again, this wasn’t the ground floor and security clearance was stricter this far in, your badge did most of the infiltration for you.

Was your dad that paranoid that now, so were you?

-

[“The civi world is full of sub-par idiots.”]

[“You sound like Dami.]

[“Gross.”]

[“…it’s uncanny, really, he said the same thing.”]

[“Shit.”]

-

The room looked similar to the others, less windows, more wall, plenty of graphs and charts, but there were a few different things as well. A few of which you pocketed; the only expensive looking laptop was also grabbed straight off a table to the side of your quarry.

The most notable thing however was glaring you boldly in the face, all black and a giant red bat on the chest.

A batsuit.

-

[“Yeah, I’m gonna want to know why baldy even had this thing.”]

[“Tim’s going through the drives right now, Dami dropped them off…”]

[“Damn.”]

-

Why did Lex have a batsuit? Where did he get it from, or did he help develop it? Terrence was part of all this, and what about your fa… the Batman? Why was Cadmus part of all this? Why was Lex? Were there more suits? More clo— children?

Shit shit shitshitshitshi—

To say you were freaking out a bit was an understatement.

Hearing heavy footsteps, you panicked and grabbed the garment from behind it’s glass case and took a dive behind the nearest desk. They hadn’t come in yet, they hadn’t gotten to this room, there was still time, but… still time to what?

You eyed the suit in your hands, it’s size horribly different from your own body type (but you could probably still fit it) and you decided to make a really dumb decision then and there.

You were gonna get caught regardless, might as well suit up and try to fight your way out. If you were lucky, you could get out of this without ruining your father’s reputation (or Batman’s identity.)

You began stripping behind the desk, fully intent on donning the batsuit. If nothing else, these things usually came with masks, even though you hadn’t seen a single one near it.

The moment you pulled the fabric over your legs, heels sliding effortlessly into the red soles, you watched almost in amazement as the fabric melted to your skin, reshaping to fit you. There was going to be a lot of bagginess in the suit when you wore it, a lot of tightness in weird places, too, and it had looked fitted to a larger male. So you hadn’t expected the suit to fit perfectly on purpose. It even had a built-in utility belt. Suddenly you were a bit giddy.

Again, what the hell was Lex Luthor doing?

“So freaking cool.”

The material felt almost like a second skin, there was also no sensory loss from wearing it, you could feel the floor as if you were barehanded.

You’d never thought about it before, but now you couldn’t take your mind off Dick and his skintight suit. You felt almost nude in this suit, not used to something showing everything off like it was.

Did Dick enjoy this?

Your ears burned brightly as you finished suiting up, no longer able to think about a large portion of superheroes and villains.

How could you ever face some of them again?

How could you ever look Dick in the eyes again?

“Oh no…”

Perverts. All of them.

-

[Loud laughter.]

[A very red face.]

-

You had to admit though, it was so much cooler than your heavier and bulkier recon gear. It didn’t weigh you down and the sensory adaptation was something you’d never come across before. Speaking of, reaching up, you took the glasses off to get a clear view of your surroundings and immediately regretted it.

The suit seemed to come to life on it’s own as something came out of nowhere, engulfing your head in complete darkness.

A silent scream, too terrified to let out any sound.

You about died then and there.

The suit wasn’t that cool anymore.

Without missing a beat and calming your fears of being bagged or worse, the darkness faded, and you could see your surroundings. Blinking for a moment to adjust, you tried to get your bearings on what the hell just happened, your hand gingerly coming up to feel your face.

[Booting...]

Were you hearing things or did the suit just...?

Unfortunately, that was the exact moment the door to the room you were in opened, and you panicked. It was a dead-end room, you weren’t as good at fighting as your brothers, and the security here could be scary when hunting down an intruder.

Stupid Lex.

Without thinking, you grabbed your things now bundled up in the labcoat like a bag, slung it over your shoulder, and bolted towards one of the windows looking out.

You were so used to recon jobs that you hadn’t taken into consideration that you had none of your gear (but your brothers did this kind of stupid thing constantly, so you’d be okay, right?).

You were too caught up in the moment.

You hadn’t heard the sound, mind too blank, but the glass falling around you was enough indication of just what you had done.

Base jumping it was.

You were in a batsuit, after all. 

Falling seven stories was terrifying, but definitely brought you back to reality. Securing the makeshift bag on your back, tied around your neck, you began thinking as fast as you could. Claws? The suit had them, you had noticed, but you were too far from the building, having jumped a distance, then... The suit had a built-in utility belt, right? Maybe there was something useful in one of the —

[Servo-Motors engage…]

[Checking system function…]

[Loading protocol…]

…huh?

[84 feet till impact.]

…wait—

[75 feet till impact.]

“Yeah I see that.”

[71 feet till impact.]

“Thanks.” Sarcasm, “What else can you tell me other than my unfortunate demise at the hands of gravity?”

[Thrusters not online.]

[68 feet till impact.]

[Grappling gun unavailable.]

[Batarang lines unavailable.]

[67 feet till impact.]

[Retractable wings availa—]

“Yes, that one, wings, please! Wait… thrusters?” you had little time as your whole body suddenly started tumbling, a set of red wings expanding between your arms and the sides of your torso. “Shitshitsh—” and then you were gliding, your arms having spread on their own from the force of the fall. “Oh… Oh my…”

The suit was cool again, “Dang this is… nice… Like a bird or… him.” You reeeaaallllly didn’t want to chance him hearing you say his name.

You wanted to try this higher up now, in a sea of clouds… It was like floating, an almost weightless feeling taking over. The wind currents were a bit to get used to, but it wasn’t terrible, having imagined it would be worse higher up, in them dang fluffy clouds... sigh.

[23 feet till landing.]

The suit helped guide you to an area with less people, something akin to your own Gotham alleyways (to a point, Metropolis’ worst streets were like Gotham’s safest ones). The small alley that led to several businesses’ back doors was rather clean, and there weren’t many places to hide. The best you could do was a growing shadow next to an empty dumpster.

“Alright then…” you sighed aloud, hands doing their best to find any seam in the suit, and after a few minutes, your—

[Heart rate at 142bpm.]

[Heart rate rising.]

[Blood pressure at—]

“—No kidding,” you thought, mind racing, and unfortunately, there wasn’t a single seam on the suit.

Anxiety was building in your chest,

“Frick.”

-

[“Wait, the suit talks?”]

[“I think it has an OS on it? I haven’t tried the cowl since…”]

[“You should.”]

[“…Nnnn”]

-

“Why do you look like Nightwing?” All you did was take the clothes from Damian and began to dress yourself over the suit, not certain at all on what you could say to this situation. You’d called Damian the moment you lucked out and made the cowl… come off?, and in his eagerness to leave Jon behind, he showed up quickly.

“You will tell me,” he was sounding just like dad.

“Dami, I uhm…”

“…I won’t tell father.” he could deduce a few things this pertained to, including but not limited to the child you had brought home, and how you avoided Bruce.

You could only sigh and nod at him, resigned. You really hope this didn’t come back to bite you in the bottom.

“What are you two doing?”

The clothes you had couldn’t cover most of the suit, the clothes Damian had brought you were able to do just that. Strangely, you weren’t feeling overheated, even though you looked like you were ready for cold weather.

“Ah, Jon.”

“You look silly.”

“…thanks.”

[“…”]

[”...”]

-

“Nightwing? Screw that brat.”

“Please don’t speak like that…” you sighed, your head in your hands.

He just huffed in annoyance, “I wear the colors better,” he muttered, “it sounds like a lot, what's your next plan of action?”

You let yourself slump forwards as he pulled you into a side-hug, arm slung over your shoulders, “it’s this suit. I can’t get it off, and—"

BAM

You and Jason about had twin heart attacks.

Without missing another fraction of a second, the larger male was on his feet, flipping over the back of the couch ready to attack before he swore at the sight in front of him. Striding over to the table in two long steps, “What the hell, Terry.” He haphazardly picked the kid up, a red helmet falling on the table with a clang, and turned to you, “your kid just tried to kill us, you realize.”

Having slid to the ground out of need to instantly roll to the side, you stopped, staring at the smoking gun that’d been pushed off the table, lying on the floor near you. Your eyes then shifting to the hole in the safehouse’s wall, “Uhm… The safety…”

He just snorted, “I don’t always have it on.” He wasn’t great at taking care of himself, sadly. You did your best with your busy schedule and budgeted time constraints, but when he wasn’t here, he easily fell into old habits.

“Please don’t let the demon spawn near him.”

“Please keep the damned safety on your guns.”

-

Batman was straining so hard that it looked like he was in the middle of a fight, an obvious aura of unrest around him.

“Whoa, you gonna punch yourself in the face? Wait, wait a minute, I gotta…” Batman groaned, irritated as a red blur came into the room, jabbered on too quickly, then took his phone out and pointed it at the big bat.

“Okay, I’m recording now, do it!”

It took a moment as Batman thought, rubbing his temples.

“I trained my kids too well,” at that, Flash put his phone down, tilting his head in confusion, “and that’s… bad?” He looked up at the League’s computers in front of him, noting the blinking [[ALERT ALERT ALERT]] off to the side.

“Because,” Batman reasoned, “I have to deal with them,” he ground out, glaring at the sign of intrusion.

“Ooooh, your kids hacked into the system again, huh?” Flash let out a low whistle, clearly amused by Batman’s misfortunes. Batman did his best to ignore the red nerd, calling on Cyborg to assist him, even though he had already been on his way, noticing it moments prior.

“Family, amirite?”

Batman said nothing in response,

Tim almost got away with it.

Almost.

[flying-nightwing]

Double Cross (Jason Todd)

Hi people! So this is my little project I was talking about. A sudden blurb of inspiration led me to this and uh. Here it is! Once again, this is super experimental so yeah idk about its potential. You’ll be the judge of that I guess

This time I worked on time jumps back and forth and perspectives, so let me know how it turned out!

Masterlist in bio/pinned!

Pairing: Jason Todd x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 6937

Warnings: swearing, uhhh idk it’s dc so you know what you’re into 

-- 36 hours ago --

Your heart was beating hard against your ribcage as you flew down Washington DC's streets. Your motorcycle was burning under you, and you had a feeling you were on the clock to get off of this ticking time bomb before it exploded and brought you down with it. The bullet holes broke the black paint, decorating your bike in a way that flagged unwanted attention. About six blocks ago, unmarked cars had joined your fast paced parade across the city.

A terrible mistake, all of this was. That was certain. 

You took a sharp right, your knee scraping on the asphalt on the way. An infernal noise came out of your bike, but you still willed it to accelerate on the straight alley. You shot back on the main roads like a bullet, swerving around the black police car that had tried to cut you off. But soon enough, you saw the blockade on the street in front of you. You could never jump it with your bike so in disarray, and there were no viable alleys to sneak into. You shut your eyes tight for a moment, then exhaled.

"I'm sorry Jason" You muttered to yourself. "But you left me no choice"

With a firm grip, you pressed the brakes and came to a stop a fair distance from the blockade. You turned off your bike and kicked the foot to hold it up, slowly getting off and pulling your hands up. Shouts erupted around you as the police mobilised themselves in tight formations, guns up and ready to shoot. With one hand up, you undid your tinted black helmet and let it fall to the ground. 

"On your knees!" An officer shouted as he approached. "Keep your hands where I can see them"

You complied.

-- Now --

The white of the neons glaring down on you made your already tired eyes hurt, saturating your vision with a harsh and constant flash of light. You were left alone with a room temperature glass of water on your left and your own reflection on your right. You couldn’t hear them, but you knew they were there, observing you. Instead, all you could see was the dark bags under your eyes and your messy greasy hair. 

You perked up when two men in suits came in by the door in front of you, thin files in their hands and calculating glances. They were nicely dressed, one with a gray suit and the other, black. Both suits were obviously tailored to them. They sat down in front of you and observed you before the one in the gray suit spoke. Dark hair, blue eyes, taller than the other, maybe around six feet.

“Good morning, Agent”

You only nodded, looking down to the table. 

“My name is Agent Baker,” He said. “My colleague here is Agent Tanev. We will proceed to your debriefing”

“Sure” You nodded again.

Agent Baker set a recording device on the desk and turned it on. “Please tell us again why you are here today”

“I am--” You paused, clearing your throat. “I am here today to deliver crucial information on a wanted criminal in exchange for a pardon” 

“Which wanted criminal should that be?”

“The Red Hood” You said, meeting his eyes. “I have names of associates, safe houses locations, frequent territories of operation as well as his specific m.o.”

“How come you know all of this?” He asked, his voice neutral. “No seasoned agent has ever managed to get this close to him, let alone a rookie. We want to know how you gained his trust, start from the beginning, spare no details. Leave nothing out”

“I met the Red Hood during operation 7381 in northern Lithuania” You began as Agent Tanev started to take notes. “I was in the back up team for the extraction of General Kradiev from a local opposant group. I wasn’t supposed to even see action, as it should have been simple enough against an untrained mob, but when is it ever…”

They had known you were coming. A whole grab and go operation had been compromised by the feeling of invincibility of the CIA, that looked down so much on whoever they went against that they never stopped to think that maybe--maybe--they were prepared.

So when the Alpha team stormed the country house where the General was supposed to be kept and found it empty, all action plans were thrown out the window. The Beta team was mobilised to close off all the roads surrounding the area and to search for the hostage. You were ordered to search a single decaying house in between two pine trees because the structure was so old, so  nobody could have ever been hiding in its debris. However, as you were leaving, you heard whimpers coming from the cellar a few feet away from the foundations. Carefully, you made your way to the wooden doors on the ground, and after making sure your magazine was full and the safe of your semi automatic off, you kicked the doors open and raced down the stairs.

“Don’t move or I’ll blow your head off” You yelled, pointing your gun at the first person you saw. It was clearly a man, wearing a bright red helmet that shone under the single lightbulb hanging down from the ceiling. He slowly held up his hands, but he didn’t seem so bothered. Your eyes found another man next, tied to a chair and wearing a bag on his head. The military uniform was a dead giveaway of his identity, so you returned your full attention to the red helmet guy. “You’re going to back up and face the wall now”

“Or what?” He challenged. “You’ll ‘blow my head off’?”

“Shut up!” You barked, taking a step forward. Your firearm was ready to shoot. “Do as I fucking say”

“You’re CIA uh?” He changed the subject, looking down at your marked bulletproof vest and not listening to you. In fact, he didn’t seem worried at all by the situation he was in. “Should have known. You guys have never cared who lived or died. What fucking difference does it make, as long as they’re good pals with the good ol’ US of A right?”

“God would you just fucking shut up and back up” You were getting impatient, but also nervous. You were alone without backup, with a guy in a red helmet who was clearly taunting you, and you had never shot anyone before. It was your first oversea mission, and already it was fucking catastrophic.

“See, that’s the thing” He held a finger up. “You’re pointing a gun at me like I’m the bad guy, while you are trying to rescue the scum of humanity. You’re going to extract him, give him a nice long life on Florida’s golf courses with the taxpayers' money and wipe out from History the mass graves in the woods two miles away”

You remained silent.

“Oh, did you not know about the mass graves?” He asked rhetorically in a mocking tone. “Your friend here decided he wanted to test the new shipment of automatic weapons, because their bullets per minute capacity had been expanded. And what better targets than the group of students that opposed the american military presence in the country? The youngest was 16 and her name was Vera Beliskava. Isn’t that right, Kradiev?”

He pulled the hood from the general to reveal his bloodied and bruised face. He had been gagged and beaten, that was obvious. He looked at you, pleading. 

“You’re the only one who saw” The man in red said, softer this time. “You don’t have to save that piece of trash. Just say your search came up empty and I’ll make him disappear from the Earth's face permanently without leaving so much as a trace. Nobody else will know, and you will go to sleep knowing you made the world a better place”

You took a breath, a million thoughts running into your head. Who was that guy? Why was he here? Why did he not attack you, while he clearly had a handgun strapped on his thigh? Could he be right about Kradiev? You knew he didn’t have the cleanest record concerning human rights, but mass graves? 

“Beta team, report”

You both froze as your comm broke the silence. He gave you a challenging look as you were still debating. You wanted to do good, that’s why you went into the secret services. Being complicit in mass murder wasn’t something you signed up on. 

“Nothing to report on the north road”

“Clear in the valley”

“Farmer’s house empty”

“No traffic on the south road”

You knew it was your turn now. Slowly, you reached for your comm, not breaking eye contact.

“Pinetree house’s clear” You spoke in a flat line, decided and direct as you lowered your gun. You shut down your comm and glanced at Kradiev, whose relief morphed into fear once again as your decision registered. You averted your eyes. 

“You made the right choice”

“I hope so, or I’m dead” You mumbled. “I’m going back now. Don’t make me regret my decision”

“You won’t”

“So just to be clear,” Agent Baker frowned. “You just… Believed him? And you let General Kradiev in his hands?”

“When I left, I went to check, and the graves were there. Kradiev was guilty”

“That was not your decision to make” He pointed out.

“I know” You sighed. “That was my first mistake. I-- I lost it for a moment. He mentioned the graves and the victims and there were so many people the same age as them I could think about and I decided with my feelings rather than my judgement. And I’m paying the price today”

“Alright” He mumbled, passing a hand on his face like he was already done with this debriefing. “When did you cross paths with him again?”

“We were back in America” You continued. “By that time, I was no longer on training wheels. It was a little more than a year later, in Newport Oregon during operation 9004. We were busting a trans pacific drug dealer on the docks when we got unexpected company…”

You were running as well as you could through the maze of freight containers on the docks, trying to push back the pain of the bullet in your leg. You had drawn the fire of the hired gang so your colleagues could proceed, but things went down the drain when you were met with heavier fire than the briefing stated. Outnumbered and outran, you stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You wouldn’t go out as a coward, that was certain. If you went down, you’d take as many of them as you could with you. 

You reopened your eyes and checked the magazine of your gun, letting it drop on the ground and pushing a full one in. You loaded and clicked the safe off, flexing your fingers on the handle as footsteps surrounded you. You spun around and pulled the trigger, but before the bullet even reached your target, two men dropped on his side. 

You weren’t the only shooter. 

Thinking it was backup from your team, you allowed yourself to back up against a container, trying to stop the bleeding. You were starting to feel light headed, but you still had a bit more fight in you. Soon enough, all hostiles were down, and you were in for a surprise. Instead of the black uniform of your colleagues, you looked up to a red bat, a leather jacket and a familiar red helmet. You squinted your eyes and let out a chuckle of disbelief.

“Do I even wanna know?” You asked.

“I owed you one” He shrugged. “You okay?”

You looked down to your leg, your pants soaked in blood that was already cooling, then back up again. “Peachy” You gave him a thumbs up. “You were right about Kradiev. He was a fucking trash bag”

“It’s often the case” He said as he rested his hands on his hips. 

“You here for Hiko?”

“Yep” He nodded, then snorted derisively. “Any tips?”

Ever since Kradiev, you have developed a habit of researching your target better. Most of the time, it was a capture or an execution on site, so it didn’t matter the extent of their crimes. But there were moments when you were extracting the package without knowing what came next, and those times usually meant they’ll make them disappear under a new identity, without giving them any repercussion for their actions. This one, Hiko, was the later case, without any plan revealed for when you get him back. He was a known drug trafficker, but he was also rumored to smuggle people back and forth between Asia and North America through the docks he owned. The Red Hood’s appearance was well timed, to say the least. 

“Sneak past the squad through the east” You panted. “If you can move on top of the containers without being seen or heard, you’ll cut them off with about two minutes to spare. Make sure you’re gone with Hiko when they bust through the door, or neither of us will ever find him again”

He paused, studying you. “Thanks…” He trailed off. “Why are you telling me this again?”

“Well, you said it yourself” You managed to smirk. “If I can go to sleep knowing I made the world a better place”

He didn’t answer with anything else but a quick nod before he climbed the containers and disappeared from your field of vision. You sighed, then reached for your comm. “Alpha 003 to central, I’m down and need medical attention, Northwest entry of the docks”

“So if I understand correctly, not only you let him go again,” Baker exhaled, looking bewildered. “But you told him how to get there first? You realize those are becoming serious crimes right?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t” You snapped, before recomposing yourself. Both agents had backed away just a little at your outburst. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry. I’m just tired, it’s been a crazy last two days” 

“Did he offer you any medical help then?” Baker returned on topic. 

“No, I called the medics and I was extracted with the chopper” You replied. “I knew he was there for Hiko, not for me. It was a coincidence we crossed paths, and at that point I thought it was the last time I’d see him. I mean, what are the chances, right? But you see, that here was my second mistake”

“How so?”

“The CIA goes after threats to national security, but so does he, in his own way” You said, locking eyes with Baker. “The guy’s everywhere, even where we don’t go. And he’s at least three steps ahead of us at any turn. He has good funds, good intel and exceptional skills. You don’t find him, he finds you. And that’s what he did”

“He contacted you after the affair on the docks?” He raised an eyebrow.

“We could say that...”

You finished washing your tea cup when you heard a thud coming in from your living room. Slowly, you grabbed the gun hidden in your cupboard and held it up, quietly making your way to the next room. You rounded the corner and pointed your gun to the man standing with his back to you, registering his identity as he turned around. You must have been a sight in your baby pink pajama shorts and mismatching turquoise tank top, pointing your handgun to a man in a shiny red helmet. 

You scoffed and lowered your gun, clicking the safe back on and putting the firearm on the lamp table. “Breaking and entering, really?”

“Wouldn’t be the worst crime I’ve committed” He shrugged, and you could just imagine him rolling his eyes, whoever he was under that helmet. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, crossing your arms against your chest. “How did you find me?”

“Like I find anyone” He answered like it was the simplest of evidence. You waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have no intention to reveal his methods. This time, you rolled your eyes. “And I’m here because I wanted to check on your leg”

“No you’re not” You snorted. He would have come months ago if it was about that, and even then, the little you knew about him told you he was not the kind to just check upon people who didn’t mean anything to him. “But I’m doing fine, thanks”

“You’re welcome” He nodded. “And you’re right. I need something from you”

“Well, go ahead, since you’re already in” You gestured at him to go on.

“Wait wait wait” Baker held his hand up. “He broke into your house and you just let him? You put your gun down and didn’t call anyone?”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said” You replied slowly. 

“And it never occured to you that he was dangerous?”

You paused, thinking your answer over. “No, it didn’t. I mean, if he wanted to get rid of me, he would have done it on the docks where I was an easy target”

“Fair point” Tanev muttered under his breath, earning him a glare from Baker. 

“Now do you want to know what happened or not?” You said, annoyed at the interruption.

“Please, go ahead”

He reached inside his jacket and handed you a file. You took it and opened it, staring at the picture and the description beside it. “This is Ian Markstrom, he has been suspected to kidnap young women, mostly tourists, to sell them on the sex trafficking market” He began. “Not only is he friends with your big bosses, but those who were brave enough to try and get him locked up never got anything to stick, and that was the best case scenario. The others either disappeared or ended up dead, so I’m assuming someone in this government does not want Markstrom to stop”

You nodded. “What can I do for you?”

“There’s a secret auction strictly reserved for the elite, Markstrom will sell his best teenagers there” He explained, a hint of disgust in his voice. “The CIA chief of operation received an invitation. I want to know what it says on the card”

“I’m not sure I’m good enough to reach anywhere near it” You mumbled. “But sure, I’ll try”

“No, I believe in you” He said, and he seemed pretty sure of himself. You raised an eyebrow to hide your surprise at his compliment. “What I’m wondering though, is why you’re not asking questions”

“Well, you are two in two so far about targeting the bad guy” You said after a moment. “You seem qualified to spot ‘em, and you’d be real twisted to to make up that scenario for a petty revenge, so I’m guessing you’re on the mark again”

“Huh. You might just be the only smart CIA agent I’ve ever met”

You snorted. “Well, the more it goes the more I’m questioning the integrity of my employer”

“You keep impressing me” 

“With what I saw, I believe the bar was pretty low to start with”

“Keep talking like this and I might need a cold shower”

“You’re an ass, you know that?” 

He let out a short bark of laughter. “If only you knew”

“I’ll do my best for the invitation” You brought him back on topic, closing the file and putting it beside your handgun. “How can I contact you if I get it?”

He paused, then took a step forward and grabbed your wrist. He fetched a pen from his jacket and wrote a number. “This is a burner phone, which I will destroy after this whole deal. Don’t try and trace me with that, it won’t end well for you”

“Yeah yeah” You rolled your eyes, pulling back your arm when he was done. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore his overwhelming proximity. “I gave you two fast passes just to trick you into seeking my help to finally bag you, I’m busted”

“Hey, listen” He backed up, holding his hand in surrender. “I make that threat to everyone. It’s only a disclosure thing, I didn’t doubt your motivation”

“To each their own I guess” You shrugged. “Alright. If this is all, please get out of my apartment”

“Oop, sure”

Baker blinked slowly. “And did you? Communicate him the details?”

“Yeah” You nodded. “I managed to get into the chief of operation’s office, break into his safe, memorize the date, time and place of the auction and communicate it to Red”

“Red?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Short for Red Hood” Tanev clarified, and judging by yet another glare from Baker, he wouldn’t speak anytime soon.  

“He kept it on the quiet, but after that the chief of operation did seem a changed man” You smirked, before dropping it instantly. “And I didn’t hear anything from Markstrom, it was like he disappeared for good, which he most likely did. So I guess the Red Hood succeeded in taking him down”

“Jesus Christ” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Why do I have the feeling it wasn’t the last law you broke?”

“Because it wasn’t”

“Are you going to make a habit out of dropping out of nowhere to ask me for favors?”

This time, you knew who had broken into your property without even looking. You put the keys into your car and turned the engine on, trying to warm yourself. The Red Hood pulled himself upright from your backseat, shaking his head.

“Your car is very comfortable,” He declared. “You have good taste”

“So that means yes”

“Back at it again with your superior deduction skills” 

“What do you want?” You went straight to the point, but you were just a little amused. You could have a worst stalker. 

“I’ve been thinking this through,” He began, moved his legs so he was properly seated on the backseat. “You are skilled and you’ve got balls of steel. I could use your help more often. A partnership, if you might”

“Why do I have the feeling it took a lot to admit that and reach out?” 

“Because I don’t just trust people” He said plainly. “They disappoint me, among other things”

“So why me?”

“Like I said, skills and balls of steel” He repeated. “You went against the fucking CIA not once, not twice but thrice to do the right thing. That’s enough of a test of will for me. And besides, your job would be an advantage that is hard to turn away”

“Makes sense” You mumbled as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. He buckled his belt like it was a reflex. “Will this partnership imply me shooting bad guys?”

“If that’s what you wish for” He shrugged, leaning forward in the space between the two front seats. “I won’t be the one to limit you”

“Okay, yeah” You nodded. “Where do we start?”

Baker was looking into nothing, processing your words. He shook his head slowly in disbelief before he met your glance. “I shouldn’t be surprised” He spoke after a moment. “But this is Everest high levels of stupid”

“At that time it did seem like a good idea” 

“Yeah, might as well jump off of a bridge…” He trailed off, eying you suspiciously. “Did you do that too?”

“Well, if we consider the time when--”

“You know what, don’t tell me” He cut you off. “Please go on”

“Alright” You held your hands up in surrender. “So, where was I?”

You and the Red Hood operated on the field like a well oiled machine. Your expertise and contacts with the CIA helped him get into places way more easily than alone, and your somewhat reckless ways were compatible with his mode of operation. You knew who he was as well, you found out after he nonchalantly took off his helmet after a stakeout. You had not been prepared for what you saw then, when you were faced with what you could qualify with the most beautiful man you had ever seen. 

“Hey, you okay?” He waved a hand in your face, making you snap out your daze. You blinked a few times, shaking it off.

“Yeah” You replied. “I just wasn’t expecting this”

“Expecting what?”

“I mean, the helmet did give disfiguration vibes… Obviously I was wrong” 

“So you think I’m hot then?” He snorted derisively.

“I do” 

His head did a whiplash. “Huh?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” You backed away. “Sometimes my filter doesn’t work”

“No it’s--” He tried to find his words, then sighed. “I’m just not used to that, I guess”

“What’s the point of this?” Baker groaned, his head in his hands. 

“It’s a turning point that brought me here today” You explained, turning your palm up briefly. “You asked for details, I’m giving you details”

“I kinda wanna know what went down, to be honest” Tanev added sheepishly.

“Tanev, I’m going to drive you through the mirror if you do not shut up”

“Jeez sorry” He mumbled.

“As I was saying”

That day was the moment things changed in your relationship. There was this tension that hadn’t been there before, the little brushes of hands when you were side by side, the staring at the other while they weren’t looking, the unspoken invitations to stay a moment longer after a mission for a cigarette and a good conversation. He was one of a kind, you had to give that to him. He was passionate, driven, smart in a way that told you he never really had it easy but always made it work somehow; the way he always thought of the less obvious way to do things, how even his messes seemed calculated. 

It was raining in Chicago and the air was crisp. Your muscles ached from the fight in that warehouse against drug lords that enrolled kids in their schemes, that and from the unforgiving cold of January. You had one too many whiskeys back in that little studio flat he rented under a false name, and it led you straight to his bed. Trying to find warmth, trying to find a connection, it didn’t matter why, as long as you were as close as humanly possible to him. 

And it didn’t stop there. The night after, and the night after that, always in his company past the business hours. Your chemistry translated way beyond the field, for you found him in a partner in more ways than one. You grew quickly to feel love for him, more than you had ever felt for anyone. The number of times you woke up naked and tangled with him--

“Okay I don’t need to know this-- I do NOT need to know this” Baker yelled. If he could have flipped shit from the table, you’re sure he would have. 

“You told me to spare no details!” You argued. “This is a detail. I’m being as thorough as I can”

“You know what-- Forget it” He brushed his hand in the air aggressively. “Just get to the part we have interest in, for God’s sake please just skip to that”

“Okay, okay” You muttered, rolled your eyes. “It went well for the first months or so, it was great. Nothing to say on that front, I was happy and fulfilled in this new englobing partnership we had going on. That was my third mistake, to get into that kind of involvement with him. Because then, like all good things must come to an end, mine slowly began crumbling down in my hands”

“Okay” He sighed, half in relief. “Tell me more about that”

“Well, he started to show his true colors” You admitted, pulling your hands under the table. “Sometimes, he became something else. Something dark. And sometimes became most of the time, but I was too in love to see it. He became manipulative, controlling. He was everywhere, in everything I did. It’s like I didn’t even have control on my life anymore…”

“Where do you wanna eat?”

You looked away from the car window, your feet comfortably up on the dash. You took a deep breath and shrugged. “Dunno, where do you wanna eat?”

“Don’t really care” He shrugged too. “You decide”

“What about chipotle?”

“Sure” He nodded. “Chipotle sounds good”

Tanev shook his head sympathetically. “He wouldn’t even let you choose a restaurant?”

“Never” You looked down, sadness weighing your voice. 

“I’m so sorry you had to live through that”

“Thank you” 

“Alright, moving on” Baker broke the moment. “What happened next?”

“Next? Next came what comes every time in screwed up relationships” You answered, returning your hands on the table and crossing your fingers. “We burned like a meteorite as it tears through the atmosphere, falling to our demise to high velocity and taking everything in our wake”

“That was poetic” He pointed out sarcastically. “What the fuck does it mean?”

You raised an eyebrow. “We got dangerous for real, Agent Baker” You paused to take a reserved sip of the water. “If you thought I was reckless before, you’ll need to reevaluate your scale. I was in for real. I was his battle horse, his wildcard, his whatever that he needed to succeed. And I was good at it. The worst was, I didn’t even realize he used me as a smoke screen. He put me more and more often in fucked up situations that were way more dangerous for me than him, and I was naive enough to think it was love”

“No. This is not up for discussion”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You said you would let me choose--”

“I said I would let you choose, not let yourself get killed” He interrupted, slightly raising his voice. “This plan of yours is stupid dangerous. If it backfires, you are almost guaranteed of not making it out free, or alive for that matter. I’m not allowing you to take that risk. Not for me.”

“Again, ‘if’ being the keyword” You insisted, following him as he stomped out of the storage room. “I am capable of executing it flawlessly. I know I am, you’ve always told me I am”

He halted his steps, hesitantly turning to face you. His eyes softened as he sighed, taking your hand. “I know you can, it’s not about that” His voice was back down, even lower than his usual volume. “I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you for something I dragged you into in the first place, I would never forgive myself”

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead on his. “Okay” You finally said, nodding lightly. “We’ll find another way. Another plan. But we’re hitting that ball out of the park either way, I won’t let Preston get away with it”

He smiled. “Oh no, we won't indeed” He kissed the top of your head. “We’ll get him one way or another, I promise”

“I almost feel sorry for you now, Agent” Baker gulped. “I cannot begin to imagine what terrible things the Red Hood forced you to do under his manipulation. We however must continue this debriefing”

“Of course” You nodded quickly, breathing deeply. “So we planned our next move, but he wouldn’t tell me the final target. I found it weird, he always told me the targets. I don’t know, maybe he sensed I was trying to find a way out”

“And that plan was…”

“Yes” You didn’t have to let him finish his trailing thoughts, you knew what he was getting at. “So this brings us to 36 hours ago”

“Be as thorough as you can” 

“So the Red Hood gave me those instructions to follow” You began. “I was to draw the attention of the authorities to me in a city wide chase. Now, I am rather good with a bike, that I won’t hide, but outrunning police and secret services? That was impossible. I still don’t know how they got there, but it saved me. He would have never dared to come into the melee to get me back, and risk getting caught”

“Was he not afraid you’d talk to us?” Baker asked. “That was a pretty big gamble”

“He thought I wouldn’t talk I guess, probably for the same reasons I stayed with him for all this time” You said, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. You hated to think about these words. “Because I believed I loved him”

“I guess that wouldn’t be too far fetched” He hummed. “Wouldn’t be the first time we saw it happen”

You nodded, remaining silent. Baker made eye contact with Tanev, then looked into the reflecting glass. He took a deep breath and returned his attention to you. 

“We are going to get you back to the holding cell while we process this information” He said. “But once we do that, you’ll be free, and with a new identity if you wish, as your agreement states”

“Thank you” 

“Just one more thing before we wrap this debriefing” He leaned forward. “You must know his name"

“Of course” 

“Then what is it?” He asked. “What is the Red Hood’s name?”

You looked down, taking a deep breath, then back again, locking eyes with Baker. Then, you spoke. 

-- 36 hours later --

The sunset over the valley was gorgeous. The mixes of pink and orange on the yellowed sky was straight out of a fantasy world, and Jason couldn’t help but appreciate the scenery. It was soothing, like it could swallow up his anxiety at least for a minute or two. He leaned on the wooden ramp, the sightseeing roadside station seeming not so cheesy at the moment.

He only tore his eyes from the burning sun when he heard a motorcycle approach from behind. He pushed himself off the ramp and faced the sleek black bike--the lack of use on it showing him it was brand new--then, the driver with a black tinted visor. 

You took off your helmet and smiled at Jason’s stern expression, whose eyes showed relief anyway. You turned off your bike and parked it, then got off and walked to him. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” 

You walked past him and leaned on the ramp he had been on moments ago, and he joined you. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered you one. He lit up both with his lighter, and you took a long draft before speaking. 

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice” You smirked, bumping your shoulder to his. “I did save your sweet ass, after all”

“I thought we agreed not to do that” He glanced at you sideways. His annoyance was also mixed with playful disbelief, like he both wanted to throw you off the cliff you were admiring the view from and do celebratory shots with you. 

“We did” You nodded, chuckling. “But circumstances changed. You weren’t out by the time I reached the monument, so I had to draw them away from you, or we would not be having this conversation. ”

“Still” He tilted his head to the side, before his head snapped in your direction. “Wait, did you call the secret services after yourself?”

You shrugged half heartedly. “Mayhaps” Your lips curved upward, while he shook his head. “I mean, it kinda was my fault too. I misplaced the bomb and it barely detonated. I had to flip to plan B, then they shot my bike. They had me surrounded, and my it was running low on life, so I skipped directly to plan fuck this”

“So you gave yourself up”

"Played the victim, pretended I wanted to exchange information on you for my freedom” You sighed, taking a drag of your cigarette. “None of which was relevant enough for them to even get close to you, worry not”

“They must have asked for a name” He hummed, now turning his full body toward you. “What did you tell them?”

“My grandpa’s name” You snorted. “He died two decades ago. Let me tell you, when they found out the last update on him was in the necrology of the 2001 Sunday paper, they were not happy campers”

“Then how did you get out?” He squinted his eyes.

“Oh, do not underestimate me, sweetheart” You grinned. “I’ve spent my whole career getting to know the buildings and the procedures for people like me. It was a piece of cake”

You were escorted out the interrogation room and into the small, yet cozy holding cell. You were on the clock, because the lies you’ve slipped into your story would unravel pretty quickly once they discovered that the name you gave them was a farce. Then, you wouldn’t be put in a minimal security room, but probably somewhere way less fun. 

“Hey wait” You called after the guard before he could close the cell door behind you. He paused his actions, waiting for you to speak up. “This wasn’t there last time”

He frowned and took a few steps into the cell, trying to spot over your shoulder whatever you were talking about. When he didn’t see it, he got closer and closer until he was all the way into the cell. “What wasn’t there before?” He asked, annoyed. 

You smiled. “You” 

With a quick jab of your elbow behind his head, he fell down unconscious on the floor. You grabbed his keycard and exited the cell, locking the guard in. You winked at the camera on the upper left corner of the hallway and made your way down to the garages as the alarms blared through the whole building. That meant it entered lockdown, closing all the escape routes. But you had your own fool proof plan.

Agent Baker began swearing when the hallway was plunged into the red glow of the lockdown alert. It hadn’t taken long for him to figure out you had led them in circles, and he had appeared a fool in front of his colleagues when he proudly revealed the name of a long deceased old man instead of anything tangible. He had been on his way to your cell when he realized the depth of this foolery, understanding you had been stalling them for this opportunity. 

“Sir, we are reporting engine noises in the garages”

“Fuck” Baker shouted, pushing the other man aside. Tanev was a step behind, his weapon drawn. They had stored your bike there, you must have gone back for it. “All units report to the garage, we’re having a break out. I repeat, all units to the garages”

They all flocked to the lower levels, ready to enforce the barrages at the doors and trap you with no exit. It was an excellent execution of emergency measures, but they definitely weren’t prepared for what came next. As they kicked the storage unit of your motorcycle, they came face to face with the bullet ridden bike with no driver in sight. Baker lowered his gun, squinting his eyes. Then, they widened comically as the dark smoke coming out of it and the strong smell of gasoline registered in his brain.

“Motherfucker” He spat. “Everybody out!” 

Seconds later, it exploded.

“You’re unbelievable” Jason scoffed, shaking his head. However, he now had a full blown grin to match yours. “I gotta give it to you though, blowing up your bike as a distraction was smart. Balls of fucking steel”

“Of course it was!” You replied, then reached in your pocket for your phone. “And it’s not even the best part, look”

You unlocked your phone and passed it to him, showing him your most recent picture of the CIA’s chief of operation dead with a letter opener through his neck. His eyes widened. “You got Preston?”

You turned around from your position, now leaning back on the ramp with your elbows resting on it. “The bike opened a window big enough for me to get the target” You said, finishing your cigarette and disposing of it in the ash bin on your right. “And with all those idiots guarding an empty garage, t’was easy enough”

“After all this time, you’re still impressing me” He nodded, holding up his fist. “Good fucking job”

You bumped your fist sideway with his, laughing at his baffled expression. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, but the air was still warm. You could hear the crickets in the high grass, and the silence was a peaceful one. You could admit that you had cut it close this time, that this gamble could have very well turned to shit, so you just took a moment to let the pressure slip away from your muscles, at least for now. You had the time to smoke another cigarette before you spoke.

“So now what?” You hummed, looking up to the bright stars above your head. “Markstrom’s ring is no more, and I’m pretty sure I not only lost my job by pulling that stunt, but also bought myself a ticket on at least three intelligence services’ most wanted list”

“Well, that’s nothing a good ol’ fake death can’t fix” He shrugged. “But until we find the right moment for your tragic public demise, I’m sure we can manage to find on our own some domestic assholes to beat up. What do you say?”

You met eyes with him, then raised your eyebrows. “I say let’s get to it”

[crazyfreckledginger]

Batboys x Batsis!Reader - “Out Of The Dark” [Part 1]

Waiting desperately to be saved from a kidnapping, you end up being brainwashed to be used against your own brothers.

Requested by @flashdash626​: “Hi! I’m not sure if your taking requests, so if your not then you can choose to ignore this. Anyways! I was hoping you could do a Batsis were the sister is kidnapped by a random villain, and once the boys find her its to late and she was brainwashed and was now under control of the random villain. Once they like knock her out they bring her to the cave and try to bring her memories back. After a little bit of them talking to her her mind snaps and shes back to normal and she gets all emotional” 

A/N: I know how this looks, I was really inspired since I was stuck on another fic and ended up writing three parts to this I’m sorry T-T

Warning: angst, violence, swearing

Eyes fluttered closed as the sound of rails lulled her to sleep. University had been so tiring this week, having to finish a whole project by the end of the week, in which the guidelines had been given on Monday. A lot of preparation and running around in order to polish a well researched and thorough end result. 

The lack of sleep, tiring long hours and accumulated stress had finally left her body as soon as she handed in the work two hours before the deadline was scheduled. To say that fatigue had taken it’s toll on her was an understatement. 

For a Friday late afternoon, the train was quite empty heading towards Gotham, but then again, no one wants to go there willingly. Her eyes fluttered closed, mind numbing, it was still two stops into the city, each of which are more or less an hour long, she had time, even if it’s only a thirty minute- one hour nap at most. Too much sleep and it was disrupt -- or complicate her-return-to-normal-sleep schedule. 

 ~ I should be due at the mansion in just over two hours ~ 

A quick message wouldn’t hurt if there still need to be preparations. 

~ Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up? ~ DG

That was quick. Smiling, (Y/N) texted her older brother back. 

~ It’s okay, you're still busy, and I’ll be back before you’ve finished your work! ~

~ But we missed you! ~ DG

~ It’s been two weeks! Besides it’s the vacation, I’ll be home for a month or so. ~

~ Fine :( ~ DG

With a chuckle, she slipped her phone back in her inside pocket. A grown ass baby. 

Finally, she settled back into her seat, paying no mind to the occasional vibration of the carriage window to her head, inescapably submitting to sleep. 

When she finally woke up, it was at the end of the line, the carriages were empty, doors wide open, only the occasional person walking or sitting along the platform. 

Shit, the woman mentally cursed, grasping her things, and which, luckly, everything was still with her. Rushing out of the train, she scanned the screens: last train, departing in 2 hours and 30 minutes, Platform 8. The words glided along the end of the screen, in bright red dots. A disappointed sigh escaped her. At least it wasn’t late -- and dark. Well, the sun was setting. 

The last stop was at the outskirts of Gotham, so she was thankful that she didn’t have to cause too much trouble getting back. Despite her nap, she was still tired -- just less so, and she would really enjoy getting into a comfy bed in the company of her brothers, father and butler. 

A slightly irresponsible idea occurred to her. She could get home reaaaaally quickly if she wore her vigilante suit. The woman would be able to call her self-driving motorcycle and hurry to the Mansion in a record time. It was in her bag, and it’s not like it would hurt anyone. 

As long as she was careful when changing, this wasn’t going to threaten the reveal of her identity. 

With a smile, and making sure she held tightly onto the small bag she carried back with her, she briskly walked out of the train station, to an empty, dirty public bathroom.

Gross but will have to do. 

After having scanned the toilet for any lewd hidden cameras, she hastily slipped into her costume, placing her civilian clothes back in her bag and creeping out onto the nearest rooftop. Activating her tracking device and then the automated call, she sat down on the ledge, sighing in relief as she got the notification that her motorcycle just headed out. 

Now it was only a question of patience. Since nothing was happening, she lay down fully on the ledge, bag on the rooftop and arms under her head for more comfort. 

Her eyes closed, this time, not falling asleep, but listening to the nearly inheart environment surrounding her. 

That was until her phone vibrated. Sitting up, she reached for it, opening the message.

~ Where are you? I’m about to head home, but word is you’re not there yet. ~ DG

~ Yes, I missed the stop, called the Batcave, my ride should be here soon, sorry! ~

They must have been worried. 

Before she could answer, she heard quick footsteps trailing behind her. Her head snapped back but before she could distinguish anyone, the silhouette landed a hard blow to her head, which probably was a metal pole.

“Fuck.” she cursed in pain, her unlocked phone dropping off the ledge, sliding down the roof and landing in the gutter, “who are you!?” (Y/N) yelled standing up clumsily as the side of her head ached. 

“Lights out.” the unknown person grunted, lifting the pole high after dodging an attempted punch, slamming it to the back of her head. Her whole body smashed to the ground with violent force -- but it’s not something she felt, as she fell into unconsciousness.

****

“Where is she?” Bruce grumbled as Dick entered the Manor, an hour and a half later than planned, and after some exhausting, useless paperwork. 

“What’s happening?” he frowned, seeing Robin hurry down the stairs of the Batcave.

“(Y/N) was supposed to be due, the tracker on her motorcycle hasn’t moved and she isn’t answering her phone.” Jason geared up.

“I’m coming with you,” Dick scurried to the room with his suit, slipping into it.

“We’ll be on comms if anything comes up.” Tim nodded. 

It felt like a very long ride towards the location that was given to them, even though they got there very quickly. 

As Nightwing’s motorcycle stopped close to their destination, he hopped off, watching the tracker from the screen on his arm, zooming in to be able to pinpoint exactly where her last place was. 

Jason jumped onto the nearest rooftop, scouting the area in case it was a trap of sorts. He frowned, seeing that the coast was clear and signalling his brother his ‘go’ card. 

It must have been a good half an hour before they even found a clue -- excluding her untouched motorcycle. 

And it happen to make Red Hood jump out of his skin. Good thing Nightwing was still scouting the ground otherwise he would have been seriously embarrassed. 

The gutter buzzed, it was utterly unnerving. Cautiously,  he approached the roaring object, staring down at it as he spotted a phone. It was unlocked and vibrating widely. 

Crouching down, he grasped and inspected it.

(Y/N)’s definitely. And he didn’t like where this was going. It was Damian this time, calling her -- in addition to like 78 missed calls and numerous texts. 

“Found her phone, she’s definitely gotten kidnapped.” The man announced nonchalantly, but his heart was beating fast. Their sister? Kidnapped at an unusually early time of the night? Hours after she got back into Gotham? Someone must have been keeping an eye out and planning. 

And given the fact that nothing has come up, it might not be a usual Gotham criminal.

“We might have a problem.” Dick spoke through his comms.

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[batarella]

The Commander - Part 9 (Arkham Knight x Reader)

I just want to thank you all for the kind comments and messages. I was afraid of disappointing you with the next chapters. So please let me know what you all think! It lets me know if I’m on the right track!

WORDS: 3272 WARNINGS: UHMMMM YOU FIGHT WITH JASON AND THEN THERE’S A WHOLE MIX OF ANGSTY FLUFF AND FLUFFY ANGST 

Masterlist

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

“So what do they call you? Peashooter?”

This kid was a fucking menace. And the red and yellow on his suit just made him even more irritating to look at. The bullets just bounced off of him. Either that, or she’ll have to face her uncle for missing so many shots at once. She gripped onto the two pistols with her life.

Aim for the head.

She saw his cape rolling into a pile of boxes and fired.

“Silver Sniper! The Mini Gunner! Come on, I can think of loads of names right now!”

The boxes had become an exploded mess by then. Robin wasn’t there. She backed off, panting. Y/N had to get out of this. She focused on the sounds, or any movement from the ground’s vibrations, but there was nothing. Which meant-

“Fuck!” Robin jumped from the ledge above and tackled her to the ground. Y/N kneed his groin, then landed a punch on his face. She pushed him off of her and ducked just as he pounced for her head.

He blocked her kicks with his arms, then grabbed her right fist, then her left, just as she threw them, but she high kicked his hold and pushed him back. She kept throwing her punches, and he easily blocked them without blinking.

Y/N growled, but Robin just smirked at her. He threw a punch at her stomach, but didn’t see her foot aiming just at his chest.

He threw back, and it was enough time for her to pick up her pistols and aim at his head.

But just as she pulled the trigger, two batarangs landed right at the muzzels. The firearms exploded in her hands and her body was thrown to the floor. Robin laughed. “You were looking an awful lot like Lara Croft there, kid.”

“You think this is intimidating me, bird boy?”

“Without your precious guns, maybe it is.”

Xxxx

Jason ran right up to her, withstanding all the bullets she could fire with his armor thick enough to go against missiles, and pushed her to the ground, picking up her guns and throwing them over the roof. The Commander kicked him in the stomach and rolled off.

“No guns.”

His voice filter just sounded annoying at this point. Y/N picked herself up and ran to him, throwing a punch aiming for his neck. He saw her alternating strikes and dodged every one of them, blocking her knee with his own wrist. She landed a kick, but he grabbed her ankle and flung her off to the ledge, her back hitting the cement.

“Stop throwing me around, asshole!” she coughed.

This man was one she wanted dead at some point and was so tempted to help kill him, she was almost at the front gates of Arkham just to do so. At the last minute, she decided against it.

She might be a killer, but she was no monster.

Then she ended up sleeping with that same man, several times, even going so far as sharing a kiss at a time and place that a kiss meant the most.

And here he was again, Jason, finishing a war that started years ago.

Jason skidded to her front, his shoes making her lose balance. They rolled around the floor, with either on top and throwing their fists only to meet the ground. Y/N was first to roll off and regain her stance, but Jason managed to duck before she hit his head.

She had to tire him out. His hits were strong. Too strong in fact. More of those and his arms would eventually weaken. It was her turn to block his fists, her torso turning around while also keeping an eye on his lower body.

Her punches were swift, fast, and almost as light as air. They weren’t enough on their own, but if she gained her momentum it would be enough to throw her opponent off. She knew Jason had that in mind, especially since he was the exact opposite. He was slower, but each hit was strong enough to land her on the ground.

It had always been hard to best him. In fact, she never could say she’d beaten him in a fight. But this will be the first.

As a fight long awaited, it was too bad no one else saw them. They were dancing. A violent, bone-crushing dance.

And it was epic.

Her legs were flying in the air as Y/N twisted his arm and placed her whole weight right on his shoulder. She pulled at his wrist, gaining a cry from him.

“Get off me!”

“You asked for this, you son of a-“

And a massive blow of his strength pushed her off. She was panting, and she let her guard down for a split second and he had her against the wall, grabbing her by the collar.

“This making you hard, Knight?” she whispered.

Jason should’ve seen her knee between his legs. He let go of her, and she tackled him to the ground. She tried hitting his visor, but her already bruised fist gave out and Jason flipped them over.

He held her down with his muscled arm hard against her neck. Y/N struggled and she could only look up to his visor. The glass had broken and his grunts were no longer filtered. She could see his face, teeth gritting, and his eyes looking straight back at her. She used the last of her strength to push him off.

It had to be hours. The Commander was panting, and all her limbs felt like falling to the ground. “Stop!” Jason said, struggling to pull himself up the floor. He had to catch his breath as well, opening his visor to let the cold air in. She leaned her arm against the cement.

The sky had lightened. And the stars had disappeared. She was breathing so hard the air just seemed too thin. Jason laid flat on the ground, staring blankly above. Y/N pressed her back against the ledge and her body melted to the ground.

The worthiest opponent. And still, no one bested the other. She waited until the air wasn’t such a blur and the floor no longer spinning, and he on the ground. They sat there for as long as they’d fought until the sun had fully risen.

He hadn’t said a word, but she could see his chest rising and falling, eventually into a steadier pace. When she thought she could, she stood up, slowly walking up to Jason.

She caught his eye, and extended her hand. He looked at her up and down, but for once, he actually took it. She pulled him up.

“This conversation never happened.”

Jason pulled his hand away. “Just the conversation or everything that happened after it?”

“Need I remind you the militia leaves for Gotham in three days. This was stupid. We don’t have time for this.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

She brushed off her suit, lasting a glare at him before turning for the hatch on the floor. She pulled it open.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said.

She didn’t even look back at him. “Fuck off.”

Xxxxx

Her head was burning. She needed ice, right at the center of her cheek. She tried not to look at Jason or else she’d attack him from across the table again. He had a new visor on, as if he kept spare ones in his drawers. If she had broken bones somewhere they’ll have to be ignored.

“I told Stagg the Cloudburst arrives in Gotham today. He’s responsible for hiding it in his bunkers until I give the signal.”

Deathstroke filled in. “How do we filter out the effects from our men?”

“Their masks give them immunity,” said the Knight.

“And does everyone have this mask? I told you we had new recruits.”

“Everyone is accounted for,” Crane said. “Our men will be fine.”

“Have you even tested the toxin recently?”

Scarecrow stood from his chair. “The Cloudburst will do much more than just release the toxin. I’ve asked Stagg to amplify its poison gas into the density of rainclouds. The city will be a barren wasteland. And if the Dark Knight fails, all of Gotham will fall.”

Jason seemed satisfied. “I’ll make sure to alert our men before I release the toxin.”

“I thought the Commander drives the Cloudburst,” said Slade.

“If it has anything to do with facing Batman head on, I’ll do it. The Commander’s tasked mainly at HQ.”

“Actually,” Crane said. “Commander Y/N has the expertise to control the tank, don’t you Commander?”

The Commander sat back against the chair. “I do.”

“She’s the best man for the job, Knight.”

“I said, I’ll do it. We had a deal. I get to kill Batman!”

Scarecrow wasn’t bothered. “And is it with the Cloudburst that you end his life with? The Cloudburst isn’t used as our primary weapon, Knight. It is used for the toxin.”

“It’s the best weapon we’ve got.”

“Then perhaps that means our drones are far from enough.”

Slade stammered, “Those drones are mine and they work perfectly.”

“I don’t care if I have a knife or a tank,” Jason said. “He looks into my eyes while he dies.”

“Your delay in Gotham tells me your history with the Dark Knight will work to your disadvantage.”

Fuck.

“We had to hack into GCPD,” The Commander finally said. She’d join in on the argument, but her jaw hurt too much. Then she took out the hacking device from her jacket and slid it across the table to Slade.

“The Commander has her own work. I will not just sit in a chair and watch everything happen from a camera.”

“We all know you won’t be doing that, kid,” Deathstroke interrupted. “I say we send the Commander.”

“Her best position is to watch and control all comms and drones at HQ. She will lead the whole army. I gave her that job weeks ago, Wilson.”

“Enough,” the Commander said. “I’ll take the Cloudburst. The Knight can take a serpent drone and attack the Alpha Target once the tank destroys his car. He kills him right then.”

Slade slams his palms against the table. “How bout that?”

“A serpent drone?”

“I fire at his car, you make sure your visor filters out the gas and you take him out from above.”

Jason seemed skeptical, but Deathstroke had already stood up from his chair. “Have at it, Commander.”

Jason wasn’t having it. He went after Slade after he’d left the room. The commander winced at the pain in her lower body, struggling to even stand up. She started for the door, and Crane blocked her out.

“Commander,” he whispered. Y/N pretended not to look at him.

“What?”

“I know what went on with you and the Knight.”

The Commander kept looking at the ground. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I have eyes in Gotham. You cannot talk your way out of this.”

“Whatever it is you think, that isn’t the case. Nothing happened between us.”

Crane neared his face dangerously close to Y/N. And suddenly, she had a whiff of his toxin. It was in his breath. In a daze, she looked straight into his eyes and saw demons crawl out of them. Her breath was shortened and she stiffed.

“I don’t care about either of you,” he said. “But if this affects the deployment of my toxin in any way, I’ll make sure he suffers your own consequences.”

“Get out of my face, Crane.”

“I know your fear. I know everybody’s fear. The Knight is deadly, but the man’s as fragile as broken glass. And as stubborn as a mangy dog. You would know that.”

He was making her see it. And hear things she wasn’t supposed to hear. There were screams. Not hers, but of Jason’s. And she could see his face crying out in agony. But she couldn’t look away from the blackness that was Crane’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Yes, in fact, you do,” Crane breathed and backed away.

There were still remnants of the toxin when he headed out the door.

“You have two days, Commander. Make it count.”

Xxxx

It was death.

That was what stared at her in the face.

It wasn’t just Jason, or Crane. It was death.

It was cold, and the streets were barren and full of shit. They were far away from the city, but the countryside had a small town just a mile away. She didn’t have to take her bike. Y/N walked even when the sidewalks were small enough for her to be run over at just a slight turn of a wheel.

But she didn’t care, not even when she felt it rain so slightly, the droplets disappeared as it made contact with her clothes. Y/N pulled up her hood and continued down the road.

There weren’t much people, even at this hour. She wasn’t even afraid anyone would pull her to the alleys and leave her defenseless. Her focus was on the ground, moving downward until she met the curb.

The light glowed red, even with no cars passing by. She stood there, waiting. And in front of her was a small diner.

It was the classic retro feel. There was a jukebox at the corner, red seats backed up against the window while a waitress in blue took the orders of the two people inside. A mother and her son. He seemed happy with the single slice of pie on his plate.

She looked away before she’s thought about it even more.

But even then, it was too late. It hurt before it even dawned to her.

In another world, where she wasn’t taken in by her uncle, she’d have gone into a diner just like the one in front of her, ordered a burger and a chocolate milkshake knowing the rain would fall in and it would take her too long to get home for dinner. Then she’ll take a seat at the counter.

In that world, she’d have met a boy looking at her from a few seats away, smiling. And she’d smile back when her order appears and they realized they got the exact same mix of the smoothie they wanted. The boy would take the seat beside her, ask for her name. And he’d tell her his. That boy would have the brightest blue eyes and she could already tell he had the habit of scratching his nose.

And they’ll talk all night even after everyone else in the diner had left, when the cook had to drive them out. He would offer to take her home, and she’d decline at first, but eventually give in. She wanted to give in. And by the end of the day, he’d have her number and they’ll see each other that weekend again. In that same diner.

In that world, she wasn’t a world-renowned assassin, and Jason wasn’t a vigilante with a broken past.

But-

But-

Fuck. She was so in love with him, it was terrifying.

But they had no business being kids, being cute, being so harmlessly in love and go on walks and even dates.

They had no business lying on the floor, eating burgers at three in the afternoon.

They had no business being so uncomplicated, when everything comes so easily and nothing would be at stake.

They had no business having a relationship. No matter how much she’d have wanted that. Not after their history. Not after what they’ve both been through. Not after what Floyd had raised her into and partially stripped her of anything normal.

Jason. Tortured. Being mauled on the floor while a madman beats him like a lifeless sack of hay.

Then someone stood beside her. She didn’t have to look at him.

“Stop following me.”

Jason didn’t answer. He looked on at the diner and he had the same look on his eyes as she had.

“You look at the diner, too.”

“Go. Away.”

He didn’t leave. Instead, they stood at the side of the street, not moving even when the light in front of them turned green.

She didn’t say anything more. Didn’t even look at him.

“I wish… I did something,” she swallowed. “I wish I wanted to save you.”

“Stop. I didn’t mean what I said. Forget about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said stop.”

The woman in the diner held up a spoonful of pie and her son opened his mouth wide. It looked delicious even from the distance. The traffic light turned red and just one car drove off in front of them.

“Jason-“

“I saw the look on your face. Back at the cave. I knew you’d have figured everything out by then, about what happened to me at Arkham.”

She was stone cold and stiff.

“But none of that mattered. I didn’t care if you wanted me dead at one point. The whole day I was with you in Gotham, it was the first day I hadn’t thought about Joker… or Batman. Anything.

“I walked out of the cave hoping you wouldn’t run away after knowing who I was. So I kissed you. And you kissed me back. Then I let you hold me and I told you my name. Then… Jesus…”

Y/N still hadn’t turned away. She wasn’t crying. She couldn’t. It was the droplets from the rain that ran down her cheeks. Nothing else.

And by that time the traffic light had turned back to being green, the diner was dark and empty. She didn’t want to look to her side. Somehow, she knew Jason would just walk away, without so much as another word. He’d do something like that, and it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.

But he stayed.

For a long while, he did. So she asked, without much to expect.

“Can you walk me home?”

Just that. She could at least have that. Something so miniscule from the world she longed to be.

“Okay.”

He stayed right beside her. All the way back to the barracks. And the dark rain prevailed.

And it was the same when they reached the empty training grounds, deep into the back where the living quarters were. The walk to their rooms was silent, and their clothes drenched the floors all the way up to hers. Jason walked straight into his, without so much as another word.

She went into her room and locked the door, but her hand didn’t leave the doorknob. She stood there, silent and alone. Y/N never felt so lost.

But it had to have been long minutes, because she heard four knocks on her door before she’s even walked away. She opened it and Jason was standing there, his hair a wet mess, and he held up a coffee mug.

“Hot water,” he said. “Drink it before bed.”

Y/N didn’t have much energy left to decline. She took it from him. “Thank you.”

Jason stepped back, and she closed the door again.

Her whole body leaned against the hard wood of the door and she could feel a part of herself drip to the floor at each second she’d have to look into his hurt eyes. She’d fallen in so deep, and she hated herself for it.

She opened the door, determined to go after him.

But he was still there, at the door, just about to go into her room himself.

Y/N’s never felt so at the edge of breaking down when she met his eyes, panting. And with the pain, came the rush of cold air, the rush of cold relief. Jason went into her room, pushed her against the door to close it. He could feel her breath, wanting him.

He held the back of her drenched head and pulled her to his lips. She dug in to his hair, gripping it hard when his lips escaped hers and found their way back to her neck. Her other hand traveled down his clothed arms. She gasped, and Jason slowly guided them both to move to the bed. He’ll never pull away. Soon there were no more boundaries between them, no distance. They lasted all night, no longer with any trace of regret.

-----

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

SMUT FANS. YA’LL KNOW IT’S ABOUT TO GET DOWN IN THE NEXT CHAPTER

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[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 16

Just as Tim predicted, a week later, Bruce Wayne requested to meet him at work. While the request itself - sent through proper channels that is Tim's secretary - it specifically requested Tim by name. It had made a little stir with the other members of the company's Board of Directors, as they all thought that 'little Timmy' shouldn't be meeting the 'big and scary' Bruce Wayne by himself. "What if he manipulated Tim into a merger??" some had asked. It wasn't until Tim assured them that he would not make any corporate decisions without prior consulting - and stating that he 'doesn't like Bruce Wayne at all. He's a doof,' - that the rest of the BOD relented.

Bruce came in accompanied by Alfred Pennyworth, the family's butler. Bane, Tim knew, was accompanying Dr. Thomas and Mrs on a trip overseas. For some reason, the Waynes did not promptly send Bane away, even after he literally and physically got tossed out of the Wayne Manor's living room's bay windows - courtesy of Jason - when he tried to attack Damian.

"If this is a business meeting, Bruce, I would appreciate it if you wait for the rest of my BOD members to come up here," Tim hinted.

"No, no, no it's not..." Bruce seemed a little thinner than when Tim last saw him in person, a little disheveled and worse for wear, which would be odd given the fact that Alfred was right by his side. No self-respecting butler would have allowed their masters to leave the house looking like Bruce then - Tim knew, his dad had one since Tim was very young. Tim might not opt to keep the butler when his parents passed, but he knew the tenets fairly well.

Yet, Alfred just looked mildly disapproving but had walked into the office in the same eager speed as Bruce did.

Tim briefly wondered to whom Alfred's loyalty lies.

"I need... I need to know that there are no recording devices in here," Bruce stated.

Tim took a few blinks to choose an answer, "I'm not of the habit of having recording devices in my office. You, however, came with a tracking device," Tim pointed out.

"What?? I've left my cellphone in the car! Is it... can it listen? Record?" The shock on Bruce's face was more prevalent than when Damian came out of nowhere and called him 'father.'

Tim checked his monitoring system, courtesy of Harper Row, which can detect the type and model and broadcast type of any gadget and displayed it on Tim's cellphone. "No, it just tracks your location and is GPS-based. Why...?"

"Oh thank god..." Bruce slumped in his seat. "Alfred, can you make sure that no one would come here until I'm... until we're done?"

"Certainly, Master Bruce," Alfred bowed lightly and walked out the door.

"Wow, okay... whatever this is has got to be... better be important. I mean, you sent your butler out the door..." Tim commented.

"It is. It's about..." Bruce still hesitated. "Look, I don't usually do this. I don't know why. But you, your work-- your company and its line of business would make you-- would get you in touch with your end-clients, right? The common people who used social security benefits to get their meds, Doc Leslie Thompkins' patients and all that..."

He paused, so Tim shrugged. "I do try to personally meet my end-client to figure out what kind of medications they would need more; and Dr. Thompkins is one of my clients, too, whose assessment I can quite trust. You're not planning to get into the generic meds business also, are you?"

"No, no, no... This has nothing to do with WE. I mean... it should be, in the long run. But in the short run... Look, this would sound odd. But when you talk to your clients, have you ever hear of the Birds of Prey?" Bruce asked. Tim studied the man before him for a good long while. Before he could answer, Bruce continued, "my cousin Kate... she has just gotten kicked out of the military academy. She said she thought of donning a costume and joined the Birds of Prey to fight crime, so she could feel useful again, you know? I told her they're criminals, vigilantes. She said I should go down to meet the common people of Gotham and ask them what they think of the Birds of Prey. And then I thought of you."

"Yeeea... I'm not following..." Tim feigned - but only partially. He could already tell where the direction of Bruce's conversation was trying to take.

"Do you think they're criminals or heroes? I mean, does anybody ever mention them doing like, extortion, murder, stuff like that...?" Bruce insisted.

"Are you like, worried for your cousin Kate or... is there anything of significance that I should know about?" Tim finally decided to just bite the bullet and ask right out. There is no recording device in his office, all right. But his tiepin doubles as a camera that would send to Barbara as soon as Tim turned it on. And he had turned it on the instant Bruce walked in.

"As far as I've heard, the Birds of Prey -- ooh, I hate the pun, but it's right there-- preyed on criminals. Those who take advantage of the weak and all that jazz. I've experienced their... service if you will; when my delivery trucks were hijacked by some supposedly-metahuman group. They stopped the hijacking and arrested the group. They even found out that the group had an inside man right here." he elaborated.

The case was widely publicized, after all, when three trucks in succession that contained generic medications to be delivered to Gotham General and several free clinics were hijacked. The short version was the Birds of Prey stopped the hijacking as it was happening, then the glorious GCPD arrested those men, and they also discovered the inside man within Drake Industries - one of the Directors who had planned to jump ship while sinking DI along with it.

In reality, it had been Tim's work. The Birds - Dinah and Helena - helped with physically stopping the hijacking; while Tim dug out the paperwork and discovered the traitor. Barbara had then sent the evidence to the police, along with video footage of the man talking to a competitor of the company.

"Oh yeah, I've heard of the case. So you don't think they're bad people?"

Tim slow-shrug, just for the sake of dramatization. "I won't say they're totally good people - I mean, them hijackers looked like they've gone 12 rounds with Ted Grant the boxer. And they supposedly have like, superpowers or something. But I'm not gonna say they're bad people - they knew exactly where those shipments were going and who'd be using them, and they worked hard to stop the hijacking, you know. Financially speaking, DI might be able to weather like, a dozen hijacking. But for those people who needed the meds..." he let the sentence trailed for Bruce to fill in the blanks. He knew that the man has the same metaphorical bleeding heart as Martha Wayne, his mother.

"Okay..." Bruce actually looked a little more alive after the explanation. "Do you know how to contact them? I need to ask them for help."

"Oh, wow... Heh. It's not like I have them on my speed-dial... I think they maybe have an inside man in GCPD? They showed up right after I made the report of the third hijacking." Tim hedged, internally cursing himself for not finishing his project of the Birdcall app. The cellphone app would have made it easier for anyone to call the Birds or to alert the Birds of crimes. Alas, the whole issue with Jason and Damian's appearance has delayed its development. Tim made a mental note to assign Harper on it.

Bruce looked disappointed. "I see... then I will need you to relay this to the GCPD for me, Tim, can I trust you? I mean, it's... crucial," he said.

"What is this about, the kid and his guards?" Tim tested, just for kicks.

"Oh, no. The kid... Damian and his guards were actually a kind of reprieve in the household. They made sure that everything would be... proper and in order." Bruce smiled thinly. "It's about Bane. I have evidence that he has murdered a lot of people."

"Oh my," Tim gasped earnestly, really. Jason and Dick, and even Damian, have reported that aside from Bane's obvious animosity against them, he had tried nothing - yet. They were also the ones who told Tim that Bane has placed nanotech trackers on all three Waynes' clothing. Unfortunately, they were not able to actually snoop around - as there would always be one of the Waynes in the house.

Bruce handed him a small USB drive. "It's all here. Please, Tim. I mean, before this, I couldn't care less if that brute would leech all of the family's fortune. But now I have a son to think of... Talia might have made sure he's physically well-guarded. But Bane is a long-con kind of person and is really patient. He came to Gotham specifically for us after so many years. He..." he paused. "I believed my father when he told me that he had not betrayed my mother. But without a shred of physical evidence, there is nothing either of us can do. And how are you going to ask for a DNA sample from someone like Bane?"

"Spoon? Toothbrush? Hairbrush?"

"He's bald," Bruce replied dryly. "I'm not even sure he'd showered. Alfred said his bathroom has always remained tidy."

"Ew. No. Okay. Uh... I can't promise you that any bird would come your way, but I'll figure out a way to let this fall to the right hands, yeah?" Tim replied, putting the USB drive into his suit jacket - where Barbara could remotely access it through the circuitry in said pocket.

"Okay," Bruce looked relieved. "And now, since Bane is tracking me and I'm sure he knows what this building is, how about we come up with a stupid cover story?"

A proposal landed in Tim's sight just as Bruce finished talking. He grinned mischievously. "How about we collaborate to expand Leslie Thompkins' Free Clinic? Everybody's happy, and neither of us won't lose sleep over it."

"You'd have made a great corporate spy, do you know that?" Bruce grinned back, looking a thousand times happier than when he walked in.

"Oh yeah, but I already have my own ways to get secrets," Tim winked as he handed the proposal over. "Have a look at this, and let me know what you think. I think we can spend the discussion over lunch. Would Alfred mind if we ask him to acquire our lunches?"

"I'm sure he would be delighted if he hasn't already..." Bruce replied, getting up and opened the door. Alfred stood there with several paper bags in his hands. "He has already, it seemed," Bruce reported.

"Indeed, sirs. It is most rude to visit an associate without bringing anything. I daresay a quick lunch is sufficient for you, Master Timothy?" Alfred replied as he entered and set up the contents of the bags - several types of sandwiches and salad mixes.

"Oooh, more than sufficient, thank you, Alfred!"

"Not a problem, Sir. Please indulge, gentlemen." Alfred smiled. "Might I remind you, Master Bruce, that the Doctor and Mrs. Wayne shall return in two hours? It would be prudent to conclude your discussion by then." he hinted.

"Definitely, Alfred. We're just talking about what needs to be done to expand a hospital." Bruce grinned triumphantly at him, showing him the proposal. "Mother would be delighted at this."

[fuckingdeadbutroyal]

Jasonette July- Soulmate AU- Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Bruce would never admit it. No, of course not. Bruce was a literal father of eight, Catwomans fiance and motherfucking Batman himself. Right then, standing in the ruins of what was once “The City of Love”? He could not handle the situation. There should have been more people coming to Paris’ rescue, more heroes offering their support and overall more attention on everything that was happening, more attention on what has been going on for years. The irritation seeped into the batfamily like some kind of mist. Everyone felt it, but each person was dealing with it in their very own, individual way. 

For example there currently was a frustrated Cassandra Cain asking Tim for directions, while using a crowbar to open a door that has been sealed shut by the rubble of one of the broken buildings. She was angry, or at least that’s what she has been taught this emotion was called. The decade she has spent on the streets of Gotham have made her capable of handling all kinds of tools and left her with every necessary skill there was, if you needed to open a door or look for something any other person would not have paid any attention to. The young adult wasn’t keen on following her main mission. The villain could be caught later, but those people were dying right then and there. Tim has told them about the Miraculous Cure. Yes, all those people would come back to life if only their heroine would finally manage to catch that damn akuma. 

The memories would stay though. The city would consist of traumatised citizens and be vulnerable to further attacks or, in the worst case, further manipulation. Dick could not stop thinking about what could happen afterwards. What are they going to do once the villain has been eliminated and the miraculous cure has been cast? How would the citizens of Paris react when some sociopath would raise their voice and demand power and set up rules and just overall exploit the damaged and desperate minds of the victims? 

Would this emotional trauma lead to new extremists? 

Would they have to fight a new Hitler or have to assassinate the next Stalin? Speaking of assassination: Damian was raging. His already bad temper was a perfect starting point, which means that now that he had mixed his constant anger with the situational rage... he felt alive. 

He remembered that that was what superboy has felt like the first time he realised he could fly. Kon-Els’ emotions were always very...expressive. He loved to indulge every bit of adrenaline and excitement he could reach. Damian was glad to have him as his soulmate, though. The other boys positivity and extroverted way of acting was complementary to Damians introverted defensivness. Kon-Els’ habit of sharing his pleasent emotions and sensations through their soulmate-bond has opened the Wayne heirs eyes in several ways.

Now the youngest batfamily-members’ adrenaline and rage-filled soul was holding back from sharing that powerup with his lover, though. Instead he was focusing on Paris and subconciously hoping not to remember it in it’s current form, having planned on taking his boyfriend there for their anniversary. No, instead he was looking at those pained faces and ruins. His mind was tunneled, sure, but whatever he saw on the other end of that tube did not stand a single chance. The boy was rummaging through the streets, following each and every one of Red Robins and Batmans orders without giving it a second guess. Damian was reacting to everything colored red that came into his vision. Paired up with his oldest brother, who has taken to asking the citizens about what they have witnessed and if there was anyone who needed immediate help. Damian did not speak. He stared down anyone who didn’t answer them right away and “put on pause” whoever was causing trouble inside the shelters. He was following the “no killing policy”. (Which didn’t mean he held back.) A broken bone was a broken bone, no matter if it killed you or just immobilsed you for a few weeks. Dick did not approve of Damians actions, but the young one was careful not to leave a trace of his doings and knew for sure that there wouldn’t be anyone who would dare to tattle on him, not if they valued their oh so precious teeth.

Each and any trace that could lead them to the villains identity has been collected. Barbara paid special attention to accuracy and professionalism, no matter how difficult it was. She didn’t allow herself to loose focus, didn’t turn away from the mission. She wanted to, oh how much she wanted to just stop looking at those weird dusty footprints and butterfly themed anythings and pull the people in misery out of their ashes. Orakle couldn’t dare do it, though. Anyone else has already stopped paying attention to the mission. If she did too, there would be no one left to find the source of evil. She kept on playing the matra her father has taught her in the back of her head: “Find the criminal, save the future victims, find the criminal, save the future victims...” 

The future was uncertain, even for Duke. His photokinetic skill let him see into the near future, aswell as a bit of the past. But that didn’t help because that day he just couldn’t see anything but death and destruction in both directions. His vision was clouded with blood and dust and he quite honestly felt blind and useless. They should’ve come sooner, they didn’t have the right to leave these people to their own devices. Especialy since they knew that their devices were malfunctioning. The boys heart was full of regret. If only he could have seen this coming, if only he could have showed the akumatised victim a way out! It was his job as “The Signal” after all, he didn’t wear this annoyingly bright yellow suit for no reason!

Tim was surprisingly calm. He had his coffeemashine working, Alfred keeping him comany in the batcave and several constant sources of information keeping him entertained. He hated to admit it, but for once he felt fulfilled. His brain was working at just the right pace, he was giving out orders and information without having to secondguess himself and could allow himself to just let the mission take it’s course. He saw the dots moving around on the screen, saw the battlefield growing and changing and knew when to usher his family away from, or even towards danger. Yes, the pressure was incredibly high, but oh god was it exhilarating. 

Which didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed when his orders were being ignored. Cass not listening to him he has already been counting on, she was saving the people and that was all he needed her to do. Stephanies string of fate, which was connected to Tims heart, was safe and sound and she kept him updated about her actions, so he was fine with keeping her out of the equation, for now. Jason though? 

“Hood! What the fuck is up with you?”, Tim signaled his older brother, who was currently walking at the pace of an elderly zombie and, for whatever reason, constantly turning in the direction of the Saine, completly disregarding the route Tim has assigned him on. “I totally get your need for caffeine now, Red.”, Jason laughed in return, “doesn’t mean I support it though.” Having said that he went back to silently brooding in the direction that was making him even more tired than he already was. 

Jason was exhausted, but he wasn’t dumb. He’d guessed that his soulmate had to be somewhere in the area and he was certain that the strenghtening bond was due to their proximity. The further he walked the more he felt them. Or in other words, felt his body succumb to their weakness. Whoever they were, Jason knew they were on the verge of dying. A soulmates bond can only do so much. Sure, if he ate and slept for two, his bonded would get their share, but it still wasn’t enough. Judging by the way he was currently about to collapse, they haven’t been taking care of themselves for a while now. Jason had to do something. He needed to find them and get them to someplace where they could recover, at least enough for Jason to be able to get back to work again. 

Blinking, Red Hood realised where he was. Where there should have been water, just a few dozen meters in front of him, were...

“Red, am I hallucinating or is that river full of giant ladybugs?”

“Those are boats. Their color indicates them to be Lucky Charms, a creation of Ladybugs superpower. Batman and the others have found several other items all over the city and collected the ones they could. Apparently Ladybug has to throw them in the air in order to cast the cure. Are you capable of investigating these ones? I think they could be shelters but my drones haven’t arrived yet so we have no heatvision to investigate from abov-”

“I’m on it.”, Jason interrupted him, having gotten a grasp of the situation and, due to his tiredness, not being capable of listening for such amounts of information without succumbing to the monotone lullaby of another human beings voice.

Tim watched in wonder, as the big, scary, red hooded man stopped midtrack, made a 90° turn and climbed into a destroyed cafe. He came out of it, several minutes later, armed with what seemed like two cups of coffee, a bag full of food held between his teeth and unconcious parisians on each one of his shoulders. Jason carefully squatted, letting them down at the door of the nearby akuma-shelter and sitting crosslegged next to them. After carefully dropping his bag of baked goods in his lap and downing the probably burning hot coffee from his left hand in one go, he finally turned his com back on and just sat there, eating. 

A few moments had passed before Tim mustered up the courage to speak to him. He’s been fighting evil in the streets of the most crime-ridden city their planet had to offer for years now, but never in his whole career has he seen something as terrifying as that man he considered a brother, who he knew had commited murder, died and come back to life, just sit and eat while everything around him consisted of ruins, death and destruction.

“Tho-those civilans. Did you-?”

“I knew you would ask that!”, a full mouth replied, “Of fucking course not. They were knocked out by their bloody ceiling collapsing onto their damn heads. They’re still breathing and I’m sure there’s like, first aid in those shelters. I just gotta-”, he took another bite, taking his time, again swallowing his second cup of coffee in one go and letting out an exhausted but slightly more energized breath, “I just gotta recharge, then I’ll be on my way.”

“Are you okay? Why so weak all of a sudden?”

“Who are ya calling weak, replacement?”

“I meant what I said, now spill.”

An uncharacteristical sigh escaped Jasons lips. He didn’t like speaking of his soulmate. It made him feel weak, especialy due to their bond consisting of literal suffering. Given the current situation, though, he decided to share.

“Did you know I have a soulmate?”

Tims surprise was evident but he did not dare speak up, in fear of disrupting his brothers confession. 

“We’re kind of a fucked up pair, to be honest. Our bond isn’t as cute as yours and Spoilers. It’s like...very physical. Whenever she gets hurt I get the same bruise.”

Jason now knew she was female. He felt her much more intensely, recognized those physical attributes he was sensing. If felt weird and he would have to get used to it. (Only if the both of them were going to survive the next few hours, of course.) 

He took another bite of the third pastry he was currently eating, before continuing: “Whenever one of us has hurt ourselves when we were little, the other did something similar in some sort of “payback”. It was dumb. Silly realy...”

Tim was only half listening. As much as he wanted to know every tiny detail of this secretive mans confessions, he still had a job to do. A shelter not far from Dukes whereabouts has been covered by more debris and was therefore in danger of collapsing on itself. He gave out orders to everyone but Jason. Red Robin had a guess considering what he was about to be told and couldn’t risk ignoring that possibly incredibly important piece of information.

Jason was finishing his seventh pastry, while explaining to Tim how he recognized Paris through his soulmate and pointed out how odd it was, that she knew what every angle looked like from above and how she has never set foot inside an akuma-shelter. 

Saying it out loud made it painfully obvious. Especially when he paired the information with the fact that his wounds seemed to heal so quickly and the exhaustion the bonded pair was feeling.

Ladybugs powers include healing.

Ladybug was fighting the most difficult battle this war has ever offered.

Ladybug was Jasons soulmate and he knew where he could find her.

------------------------

Hello!!!

I hope you are having a great day, night, morning...probably night. Nighttime is tumblrtime after all. 

Thank you SO MUCH for all your feedback, it is now my fuel, my water, my blood, I love y’all.

Also, English is my third language so please, if you find any mistakes or notice a grammatical sin: please tell me! I am still learning and would love to correct my mistakes.

Part 4 is in the making and either it will be very long or I’ll make a part 5. No promises though!

P.S.: Proper Jasonette is finally happening next chapter, I’m excited ^^

I never would have thought I’d get to say that but I now have a taglist! If you want to be added just tell me in whichever way: I will find you and I will tag you *insert evil laughter*

Tag List \o/:

@maribat-is-lifeblood @lokilex @amayakans 

Thanks for reading ^^

[dynoguard]

Since the Fossil Ghouls got a lengthy post with this information, I feel its only fair for the heroes to get the same.

In the closing days of the Cretacious, the Dinosovian civilization was at its height. Their world came to a screaming end with the arrival of the Monster Meteor Apothis. In an effort to save their people, Professor Rachus of Science Tower One attempted to shift the Dinosovian people into the future to escape the impact.

Something went wrong.

65 million years later, Science Tower One and a handful of Dinosovian survivors appear on the outskirts of Granite Mountain, Colorado, while far above, the injured core of Apothis materializes in orbit. When Apothis’ Fossil Ghouls descend on Earth, the only hope for mankind is the reductant heroes of the DynoGuard.

Roar into the Future! (bios and lore below the fold)

Dracora “Cora” Rex Species: Pachyon (Dracorex) Armor: Trailrazor  DynoPower: Flame Breath Ranger Cora Rex of the DynoGuard Parks and Wildlife division wasn’t ready for any of this. She was just dropping off her daughter at a summer internship when the world ended, leaving her the highest ranking (and only) government official of her people. Practical, longsuffering and tough, Cora is the common sense glue that holds the new DynoGuard together. Hopeless with technology and baffled by science, but has a natural affinity for animals and, against her better judgement, a knack for heroism.

Brach Longstride Species: Podite (Brachiosaurus) Armor: Slammerhead  DynoPower: Size Increase  Easygoing and literally tons of fun, Brach (Brachiosaurus) walks a fine line between exuberance and self-control. He’s a big, lovable mechanic and handyman who keeps everything from food dispensers to DynoGuard vehicles humming. If there’s a fight to break up or tensions to ease, Brach’s your dino. He loves hamburgers (his favorite human invention), fixing things, and explosions. 

Zara Hurlant Species: Pachyon (Parasaurolophus) Armor: Echo Chamber  DynoPower: Hypersonic Scream The protégé of Science Tower One’s head researcher Professor Rachus, Zara  is an expert in theoretical physics and the Time Slip device. Zara blames herself for the botched time jump and for bringing Apothis with them. Her guilt manifests as a short temper and sarcastic attitude. She’s capable of amazing acts of kindness and heroism, but she holds herself at arms length from others. She resents humans for inheriting the world. She tolerates Jason, but holds Gloria in suspicion and contempt.

Kyle Stowne Species: Thyrene (Ankylosaurus) Armor: Hazmaxx  DynoPower: Metal Form  Kyle Stowne rolls with life’s punches as best he can, typically by focusing on some problem to solve. A brilliant young engineer and chemist, Kyle was at the edge of the Time Slip and lost his left arm and several horns to the void. He wears (and endlessly tinkers with) a prosthetic arm of his own design. He has a sharp analytical mind with a “light the fuse and run” approach to science. He is obsessed with finding the science behind the Fossil Ghouls’ “so-called magic.” He focuses on his work to the point of ignoring food, sleep and hygiene. 

Linhera “Linn” Rex Species: Dromeon (velociraptor) Armor: Fighterflight  DynoPower: Cloaking Camoflage Curious, excitable and impulsive, Linn finds adapting to modern life easier than the others. She becomes fast friends with Jason James and loves human culture despite not quite “getting” it. She unabashedly adores action movies, pop music, young adult novels, hyperactive video games, and cute animals both real and animated. Her exuberance helps her cope with the loss of her father and friends, whom she misses greatly.

Jason James Species: Human Equipment: DynoSphere vehicle/battle armor, Podite Multi-Tool Jason met the DynoGuard when his father, Sagan James, moved to Granite Mountain to work for Gloria Anning. He is Linn’s best friend and the first human to become a DynoGuard cadet. Like most boys his age, Jason loves gadgets, video games and goofing off. But his burning passion is cryptozoology, the unsolved, and the unexplained. Now that monsters are real and talking dinosaurs walk the Earth, this minor rebellion against his scientist parents is a useful skill set. Kentra Thagomizer and Tyrannocopter Species: Kentra is a Thyrene (stegosaurus), Tyranncopter is a Tyrannocopter.  Armor: Motosaurus  DynoPower: Energy Spikes/Plates  Kentra and Tyrannocpter did not return with Science Tower One. The only thing certain about their background is none of what they’ve provided is true. Kentra has a smarmy, roguish demeanor and a love of profit and schemes. Tyrannocopter’s artificial intellignece isn’t any better, but at leas the’s more charming.  Dr. Cerebrotops Species: Cerosoid (diabloceratops) Armor: Peer Review  DynoPower: Telepathy, Telekinesis Mutated by genetic experiments he performed on himself, Dr. Cerebrotops (Diabloceratops) is a telepathic mad scientist and the first Dinosovian Cora’s team encounters after arriving on modern Earth. 

Dr. Cerebrotops values intelligence beyond all else, specifically his own. He’s an arrogant egomaniac who defends his positions by invoking the size of his brains, and considers himself shackled by the ignorance of other creatures. His Aegis Armor is a custom suit called Peer Review, which summons Meddy and Cort, a pair of additional cloned brians he uses as assistants. Meddy is optimistic and scatterbrained while Cort is pessimistic and anxious.

Gloria Anning Species: Human Billionaire Tech Mogul  Owner of Anningtech and the Observatory where Science Tower One rematerialized (as well as most of the surrounding town of Granite Mountain, Colorado), Gloria Anning stands at the center of everything. The DynoGuard’s patron and most powerful human ally, Gloria funds and defends her time-lost charges from the threats that armor, claws and fangs cannot match: fighting for them in court and in the media.

Gloria’s driven, quirky personality and generosity hide a larger agenda. On the surface she works to forge peace between the Dinosovians and humanity as her chance at a place in history. In secret, she seeks to unlock the secrets of the DynoGuard’s technology, particularly that of the DynoBond, to ensure that place. She claims her plans and schemes are in the best interests of her new friends, but can the DynoGuard trust her… and if not, is there anything they can do about it?

---

Allegiences & Relationships

As heroes, the DynoGuard get a long better than the Fossil Ghouls, however, they each have their own unique relationships to one another.

Cora sees herself as the ‘mother’ of the team, and as the lone member with sense. She’s probably not wrong in either case. She sees Brach as a fellow adult, if just barely, and frequently clashes with Zara over everything from trusting the humans, to battle strategy, to chore rotation. Her strongest loyalty is to her daughter, Linn.

Brach is the ‘fun uncle’ of the team. He has a troubled past and sees a lot of himself in Zara, but his attempts to reach out usually anony her. Brach neither trusts nor likes Dr. Cerebrotops. 

Zara clashes with Cora over leadership decisions. She is fond of Linn because they were both hand-picked by Professor Rachus, and she’s fond of Kyle even if they fight like siblings. She does not trust Gloria, or most humans, a prejudice that leaves her open to Dr. Cerebrotops’ influrence.

Kyle wants everyone on the team to get along. He likes his fellow dinosovians, and the humans, even when they’re being baffling. He fills the mentor/big brother role for Linn and a rival sibling role for Zara. 

Linn has a strong relationship with her mother, despite rebelling as most dinos of her age do. She and Jason are best freinds, and she quickly adapts to seeing the DynoGuard as a second family.

Kentra is loyal to herself and Tyrannocopter, in that order. While she would gladly steal from or swindle her fellow dinos, her conscience will always drive her to show up when survival is on the line. She avoids Dr. Cerebrotops as telepathy, as a concept, makes her uncomfortable. Tyrannocopter’s loyalties are to Kentra nd to any other fully intelligent Dinosovian AI that he encounters. His distaste for seeing other creatures exploited occasionally is strong enough to override his self-interest.

Dr. Cerebrotops has a misanthrope’s view of most beings. He respects Zara’s skill as a scientist and sees her as a possible ally against humanity, which he sees as a threat that must be removed or defanged before the rest of Dinosovian civilization exists the time slip. He sees Kyle as a promising student hwo isn’t living up to his potential and only really cares about Linn or Brach if he can impress them with his intellect or power.

-

Character Vices

While each Fossil Ghoul had a virtue, each Dino/Ally has a vice.

Cora is stubborn. She adapts poorly to technology, has a difficult time backing down from plans and has a hard time admitting she’s wrong, particularly to Zara. 

Brach is afraid of his own power/success. He fears the destructive capability of his own DynoPower and underachieved professionally despite being a mechanical genius. 

Zara is filled with anger. She was always short-tempered, but losing her people, her father figure, and her world in one day has exaggerated this. In addition to makin gher a classic ‘hothead’ this also manifests as mistrust of humans, something she struggles with through for some time.

Kyle is obsessive. Kyle has difficulty moderating his interests, in both the day-to-day sense and the big picture sense. Once something grabs him it is difficult if not impossible for him to let go.

Linn is impulsive. Linn isn’t as mature as she believes herself to be and is prone to acting on impulse. She makes poor choices when it comes to proving herself or rebelling against percieved overprotectiveness by her mother other the other Dinos.

Jason is vulnerable to peer pressure. He wants to be popular and well liked, and can be goaded into going against his better judgement if he thinks he can impress others, particularly kids his own age or slightly older. 

Kentra and Tyrannocopter are self-serving and dishonest, but they have  their virtues as well, Kentra has a sense of honor and draws the line at hurting the innocent with her scemes (with flexible definitions of ‘hurt’ and ‘innocent’.) Tyrannocopter dislikes seeing other creatures exploited and sometimes cannot be dissauded from “getting political” by Kentra. Dr. Cerebrotops is not a good person, but even he has a soft spot. Dr. Cerebrotops is a momma’s egg and respects mothers. He may not be friendly to them, but he withholds his insults, sarcasm and condescention when dealing with moms and other female caregivers, even human ones. 

Gloria is possessed of a certainty bordering on megalomania.  She does what she feels is best for anyone, and does not feel the need to include those people in the discussion. The fact that she is very often right makes

No one, including Gloria, can tell if Gloria is doing the right thing for the wrong reasons, or the wrong thing for the right one.

[mischiefandspirits]

Colony of Gotham (1/7)

Special thanks to @starlightandsunshine​ for helping me with this <3

The Colony of Gotham is an urban legend that is whispered about in the dangerous city. It's said the Colony is a family of demons and spirits that stalk the night, hunting for the souls of the guilty.

When Bruce became Batman, he'd never intended to be mistaken for a demon. He was happy to lean into it, though, and as he gained his partners -- as his family grew -- they all followed suit.

Next Part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne was born a vampire, one from the long-standing Kane family of vampires through his mother. This nature granted him a few abilities. He was more durable than a human and could heal faster. He was stronger and faster than a human and had better sight and hearing, though not to anywhere near the degree that some metas boasted. He could take on the form of an animal and could influence bats, corvids, canines, and felines to a certain extent. Finally, he would stop aging once he reached his thirties, a trait of those who were born or turned young instead of those like Alfred who were turned at an older age and therefore would always be that age.

However, when he set off on his path to becoming Batman, he swore to himself that he would not rely on any of this to fight the criminals that plagued Gotham. He would not be like those heroes past who relied on their powers, then were left defenseless when those abilities faltered or were ripped away. After all, only a vampire’s healing and longevity remained during the day and some spells and devices could similarly strip his nature away.

Batman stuck to his wits, tech, and martial arts training.

Even still, the criminals of Gotham could tell something was off about the Bat. Rumors flew about a demon haunting Gotham’s night, which Bruce leaned into. He hadn’t chosen a bat just because of the family significance. He wanted to strike fear. As such, he stuck to the shadows and allowed his fangs to bare. He used makeup to make himself appear paler and contortionist tricks to make his movements uncanny. He allowed Batman to become an urban legend that sent shivers down the spines of Gotham’s infamous.

When Barbara Gordon became Batgirl, she quickly realized his tricks were just that and leaned into them as well. She became a ghost following in the Bat’s footsteps. She disappeared into a mist made from special smoke pellets and spun across the ground and air in a weightless way that came from years of ballet and gymnastics training. She wore shadows like Batman’s, but violet and gold peeked through the darkness to make her stand apart.

Bruce initially didn’t want her in the field, but she eventually proved herself both competent and stubborn. In a bid to help protect her, he outfitted her with proper gear and let her in on the secret of his nature. She considered it, then a week later she asked him to turn her so she could always watch his back.

Then Dick Grayson was taken in by the billionaire and became the Bloody Robin. They called him a demon child, the son of the Bat who flew on bird’s wings. His cheerful laughs and giggles echoed and hissed eerily thanks to a voice filter. His clothes were bright colors, but were covered by the wing-like shadows that wrapped over his shoulders. Fake blood dripped from his hair and eyes and coated the tips of his gloves and cape. He chirped like a bird as he flipped and flew through the air. His mask made his eyes glow white and his body almost appeared boneless when he moved around on the ground thanks to the contortionist who’d babysat him at the circus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three heard the tales when teams of heroes began to form, but they didn’t reach out. Gotham’s Colony was a myth, an urban legend. Those outside of Gotham had never heard of them and those within only spoke in whispers.

That was how the Colony preferred it.

Besides, the rest of the world wasn’t as dark as Gotham.

Their tricks and games worked fine in the shadow-filled gothic architecture that made up Gotham, the near-perpetual overcast days, and the deep darkness of Gotham’s nights, but cities like Jump, Metropolis, or Central were far brighter. They could do without, they’d proven that plenty of times against the bigger villains that were either too crazy or brave to fear the Bat, but why should they? The tricks and games had become a part of them over the years and discarding a piece of themselves just so they could work outside of Gotham with strangers felt wrong.

So the Colony stuck to their own.

On the job, at least.

Dick met Wally West at a two-week-long Jr. Forensics Summer Camp when they were eleven and thirteen respectively. Bruce had sent him to brush up on his skills while Wally’s mentor, Barry Allen, thought it would be good training. Neither boy knew about each other's secret lives, but became close friends all the same and kept in contact when they returned home. Dick didn’t reveal it to Wally when he discovered the other boy was Kid Flash, but kept a close eye on Central City just in case.

A similar situation happened two years later when the Colony discovered Green Arrow’s latest protégé, a girl named Artemis Crock, lived in Gotham and had been helped into Gotham Academy by the other billionaire. Dick decided to keep an eye on her, but his pseudo-stalking quickly turned into a genuine friendship.

He may have taken a bit too much joy in introducing Wally and Artemis to one another. Wally got back at him a few years later by introducing him to the model Kory Anders, the secret identity of his celebrity crush Starfire. Dick had to admit to having a crush on Kory as well to explain his nerves.

It turned out to be a net gain in the end, though, since he came out of it with her phone number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As time passed, Dick started to get too old to be the demon child. He decided to create a new story for himself. One that would let him step out from under the shadow of the bat, using a name from an alien myth in Bruce’s files that he’d loved reading growing up. He and Bruce argued, and Dick spent some time sleeping on Barbara’s couch, but with nowhere to run they were forced to come to a compromise. There was still tension, but it was smoothed over with time and a bite.

Nightwing was a nocturnal bird that had taken human shape after being taken in by Batgirl’s elegance. It chased after and raced the ghost, nothing but shadows and a blue streak flying through the air. Those who got close enough to see his face would say that his skin was like porcelain while black wings covered his eyes completely and his lips were painted with darkness.

Nightwing wasn’t the only change to the Colony, though, because as Dick was finishing up his designs for the story, a little boy was stealing the tires off the Batmobile.

Dick was furious when the kid climbed out of the car into the cave, thinking Bruce had brought the kid in as a new Robin without even consulting him, but anger’s quickly replaced by confusion.

Because Batman wasn’t with the kid.

Jason Todd had gotten grabbed by the Bat after having already nicked three tires off the batmobile. Batman caught him before he could run then replaced the tires. He’d made a mistake in leaving the boy in the car when he went to call for someone to pick him up, however. Jason, who some might generously call impulsive, proceeded to use the opportunity presented to him to hotwire the vehicle and take it for a joyride that ended when he accidentally had the autopilot bring him to the cave. 

Dick was immediately taken with the small spitfire’s story, as well as his stubbornness and intellect. Meanwhile, Jason was amused by the fact that Gotham’s demon was, in his eyes, nothing more than a spectacular conman and wanted in. They teamed up to force Bruce to adopt the younger boy through underhanded -- and perhaps slightly illegal -- tactics.

As Dick started using his new story more and Robin less, Jason got his own turn under Batman’s cape.

People started to say Robin was more vicious. He’d climb walls, the claws on his feet and hands easily cutting into brick and metal. He’d give a fang-filled smirk as he hung from the ceiling like he’d forgotten he was a bird instead of a bat, only to drop down on unsuspecting shoulders. If he wasn’t clawing at opponents, he was beating them with his fists.

As one of his first acts as Robin, Jason saved a young boy who had been kidnapped for ransom. The kid had acted out of it during the rescue, but Jason put it down to trauma. He’d had no reason to realize the young detective-to-be had noticed the edge of Jason’s fake fangs through the shadows and fake blood. No one could have predicted the rabbit hole young Tim Drake had just fallen down nor that it would lead him to massive discoveries in the near future.

When Jason discovered Catherine Todd wasn’t his birth mother, he considered going alone to look for the mystery woman who’d given birth to him. He and Bruce had just had a fight about his temper that had left him benched and he wanted to prove himself, but something Dick had told him months before echoed in his mind.

“No matter how much we argue, we’re always going to be there for each other. Us birds and bats, we’re a family. We have to stick together.”

In the end, he asked Dick and Barbara for help. It was something he was thankful for when his mother sold him out to the Joker. At least he could hold out against the torment with the knowledge his true family would soon come for him.

When Batgirl and Nightwing arrived, Joker fled. Barbara got Jason out while Dick, after seeing the state of his brother, tracked down the clown. Bruce got to him just in time to stop him from beating Joker to death, but when he saw Jason’s condition he couldn’t bring himself to scold his elder son for his loss of control.

Jason was barely hanging on and Bruce, knowing there was no other choice, turned him.

The boy lived, but his injuries were too severe and he fell into a coma.

Three weeks later, Bruce and Dick came into Bruce’s study to find Tim Drake waiting for them. Both were a little more focused on “My parents are never home” than “so I’m in a perfect position to cover for Jason as Robin while he’s sleeping,” to Tim’s confusion, but he ended up in the suit all the same.

The whispers that had come after Joker’s latest incarceration had him crowing about clipping bird wings tapered off as Robin sightings flared up throughout the city. People saw him flying next to the Bat and they heard him tap-tap-tapping his claws. He tapped them against the walls as he hunted through warehouses and against the floors as he crouched in front of technology that seemed to unlock under his gaze thanks to the computer that’d been built into his gloves, the interface of which could only be seen through the lenses in the Colony’s masks and cowls.

Tim didn’t really know how to feel about being adopted by Bruce, aside from the guilt he knew was mixed in there somewhere. It felt wrong to be slipping into the family like that while Jason was right there and Dick had to talk him down when the anxiety attack eventually hit.

Tim was Tim. He wasn’t Jason and they didn’t want him to be Jason.

Dick understood though. He explained how Dick and Jason had both had similar feelings regarding Barbara and Dick respectively, though Dick could admit he’d gotten off easier all things considered. He told Tim that the Colony was a family, and adoption or not, Tim was a part of that now. Jason wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Tim.

When Jason woke, Dick had a similar conversation with him after Jay saw a news broadcast about Tim while waiting for the others to arrive. It soothed him some, and Tim soothed him more when he assured Jason he wasn’t taking Robin from him.

“There can’t be two Robins.”

“Why can’t there?”

As Jason went through physical training to get back in shape, the two worked together to develop a strategy for acting as Robin together. One part of this was Trillic.

Tim, with help from Dick and Jason, invented a secret language made up of chirps, whistles, and clicks. It started as a way for the Robins to communicate with each other without giving away there was more than one, but over time the rest of the Colony picked it up and the vocabulary expanded until it became the family’s own personal language that they’d use whenever they didn’t feel like using words.

A few days after Jason was released from the hospital, Dick found Jason down in the cave and grew worried his little brother was pushing himself too soon after his accident. Then he saw the young woman on the screen. She looked a year or two older than Jason with long red hair, olive skin, and bright green eyes.

They’d met in Ethiopia, Jason told him, while saving a woman from some men. Jason had wanted to try to track her down now that he was awake. He’d succeeded, but it turned out she was an Amazonian hero.

Combined with the fact her name was Artemis, Dick couldn’t help but laugh and make a joke about Jason following in his footsteps. Jason smacked him and told him she was really more of an anti-hero so it wasn’t the same as Dick making friends with Kid Flash and Tigress, but Dick ignored him.

Jason did end up contacting her, and even got her to take a visit to Gotham. Dick took the opportunity to introduce her to Wally and his own Artemis, who Wally began to refer to as Stripes to not get confused. When questioned, he claimed it was because of some outfit of hers that stuck in his mind. Dick and Jason, knowing it was actually based on her identity as Tigress, nodded along and picked up using the name, to her annoyance.

Surprisingly, the two women didn’t get along despite their similar attitudes. This led to them taking great offense whenever people couldn’t tell which Artemis was being talked about, something only Jason, Dick, and Alfred never managed to do.

While the teens were laughing over this, whispers were going around about how the Bloody Robin seemed to be everywhere. If you fled from a room you knew he was in, you’d find him standing right in front of you in the new room. There was no escape. And he trilled more than ever, though his voice almost seemed to echo back at him as if he was having a conversation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not long after the Justice League had formed, Barbara had hacked into their security system and planted a little bug she named Mockingbird. It was designed to alert her whenever someone mentioned the Colony’s civilian or vigilante identities and copy any footage during the time. More often than not all it gave her was Wally and Bow-Artemis (as most of the family thought of her, to contrast with Axe-Artemis) discussing Dick. Every so often though, there’d be someone pining after Dick or Bruce, which could be good for a laugh depending on who it was.

On a day not long after the Robins had been set loose together, Mockingbird gave her something that was sort of new, yet at the same time not.

The video started with Wally discussing some prank he and Dick had pulled on Bruce and slowly devolved into him just bragging about how awesome Dick was. Suddenly he froze, staring off into the air.

Artemis took one look at him and asked, “Did you finally realize you’ve got a crush on your best friend?”

He immediately went to reassure his girlfriend, but she said got it and even shared his feelings.

Barbara settled in to watch the show.

Unfortunately, it took longer than she’d anticipated for Dick to catch on that the two actually wanted to date him and not just spend more time with him. He was usually pretty good at picking up on people’s feelings, yet Artemis ended up having to pull him into her lap during a movie night and kiss him flat on the lips before it sunk in.

When Barbara approached him about it, he pouted over her spying. Then he admitted that he’d known for years they all had feelings for each other, he just hadn’t wanted to risk getting in the middle of the two’s relationship since they seemed so happy together. When he’d realized how they’d started flirting with him, he’d been worried they were just after a quick thing and he couldn’t do that to himself. So he’d put on his media mask of naive ditz Dickie who wouldn’t recognize flirting if it hit him in the face.

Thankfully the two had reassured him and after talking it through, the three settled happily into their throuple.

To congratulate his brother, Jason gave him a solid week before making jokes about Dick following in Bruce’s footsteps by dating someone with a feline-themed suit.

The next hurdle was deciding how to deal with the media. Dick was Richard “Dickie” Grayson, eldest son of Bruce Wayne. The media loved to go on about him. Pretty much every second of his relationship with Kory had been recorded by the press. Neither of them had minded. He was still a performer at heart, always would be, and she was a warrior princess who had been in the spotlight all her life.

But Dick knew Wally and Artemis weren’t Kory so he talked to them about how they wanted to handle things.

In the end, they agreed only friends and family would know about Artemis, but Wally and Dick would go public. They all had practice keeping much bigger secrets so it wasn’t hard on Artemis to hide their relationship. Meanwhile, Wally didn’t mind playing around for the cameras. Plus, he knew how people treated Dick when they thought he was single and a small possessive part of him didn’t want them trying anything, even if he knew Dick would never cheat.

Things didn’t actually turn out too bad. Of course, there were always the conservatives that came around when Dick got a boyfriend, but they never stuck around long. Bruce had made his support of Dick’s sexuality very clear from the beginning and no one wanted to risk really ticking someone as rich and connected as him off by attacking his son like that.

The real problem came when their agreement to tell their families accidentally didn’t reach everyone.

Dick had been alone at the manor when it happened.

Bruce had gone on a weekend business trip, bringing Tim with him. Alfred was on a trip to England. Jason had taken the opportunity to spend the weekend hopefully not blowing things up with Artemis Grace, who had ended up getting a small flat in Gotham to act as her home base so she could visit with Jason and Dick during the rare occasions she wasn’t running across the world causing trouble with the Outlaws. Dick had been planning to spend the weekend with his partners at Stripe’s apartment, but they’d both been caught up by something (Dick assumed a mission had unexpectedly run long) so he had the night to himself.

He was watching a movie in the theater room when he felt a shift in the air. He immediately dropped to the floor, barely avoiding the sai that had been coming for his throat. Then he was over the back of the couch and engaging the assassin. He quickly realized she was with the League of Assassins as he recognized moves Bruce had picked up from them. She was good, too, but she had clearly come to the fight unprepared to face a Gotham myth. He didn’t take too many hits before pinning her and binding her hands and feet with the obijime from her dress. He then disarmed her of all her hidden weapons just in case.

When he questioned her, she declared that she was Artemis’s sister and had come to avenge her honor after Wally had betrayed her for Dick. She was not going to sit back and let the fool cheat on or dump her sister for the likes of a man she had believed was nothing more than an airheaded socialite.

Then, with narrowed eyes, she added that she had clearly been mistaken as not many airheaded socialites had been trained by assassins. Nor did they use moves only known by those trained by Ra’s al Ghul.

Dick ignored that and explained the trio’s situation as he untied her, having recognized her as Cheshire aka Jade Nguyen aka his girlfriend’s -- apparently protective -- assassin sister.

He took pride in the fact that he was dating someone who was only related to criminals instead of actually dating a criminal, unlike a certain father of his.

She thankfully believed him, though she did warn that should he be lying or should he hurt Artemis, she wouldn’t underestimate him a second time. She made a few more thinly veiled digs at his assassin-based fighting style as he showed her out that he cleanly sidestepped with comments about self-defense training. They both knew she didn’t believe a word of it, but she left it alone as she slipped away into the night.

So long as her sister remained unharmed, she had no desire to get involved in whatever was going on between the Wayne’s and al Ghul’s.

Before she left Gotham, though, she met Artemis and Wally on their way in and informed her sister that she approved of her new boyfriend. Both to be sure Dick was telling the truth and to mess with the speedster. The two predictably freaked out and she used their panic to slip away.

Dick answered Artemis’s call with, “Oh hey, Stripes! Your sister came by earlier to give me the shovel talk over tea. It was pretty gory, but I think the one Jason gave Wally was still probably worse so I’m not going to complain. Are we still on for tomorrow?” to their relief.

Artemis had not wanted to try to explain her assassin sister to her civilian boyfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I decided to use Stephanie's Batgirl suit for Babs because most of Babs' suits are either bright or look just like Batman's. Steph will get other suits of hers when she appears.

The Robin suit looks just like Dick's from The Batman (2004), just bloodier.

Nightwing's suit looks like the typical V one, just with the eyes of the mask being blacked out. Also, black lipstick because yes.

Vampires’ animal forms:

Bruce: Gray bat

Alfred: Common raven

Selina: Oriental shorthair cat

Barbara: Little red flying fox

Dick: Black-billed magpie

Jason: Malayan flying fox

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

But? Damian Wayne • Tim Drake

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x Plus Size Reader, Tim Drake x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: you go through a lot because of Tim and Damian but in different ways.

Request: do you listen to asmr boyfriend roleplay (on yt)? Some of them would be great as fics.

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, sexual innuendos, language, fluff, a very light mention of violence, light mentions of insecurity, is rain a warning?

A/N: the fact that every fic I’ve written for these characters has the same concept is very funny but I definitely see the appeal and the potential.

Based off these YouTube videos: one two three

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Replaying it didn’t make it easier to digest. After months of plans to move in together and talks about adopting a dog, Tim had broken up with you. He fell for someone else, a person he spoke about often.

She was a coworker of his, a gorgeous woman if anyone asked you. You could never blame him for falling for someone like her, she looked like a model and was a badass agent — it just hurt.

Now you were packing the belongings he kept at your place to send them to him with Alfred. It seemed like he couldn’t only break your heart and walk away, Tim also had to humiliate you. Out of respect, Alfred didn’t ask anything at all, he merely reminded you he was always available for you and wished you a good night.

The TV show playing in front of you wasn’t being processed by your brain. Curled up on the bed, covered with the duvet and a fuzzy blanket, you were desperately trying to conceive some sleep, for your brain to at least calm down so your head would stop throbbing and your eyes twitching.

Startled by tapping on the window, you were forced to swallow the mucus clogging your nose. Coughing, you rolled on the bed to asses who had disturbed you. Upon realizing it was just Robin, you begrudgingly left the bed to open the window.

He entered the room without saying anything, waiting for you to lock the window and close the curtains to take his domino mask off. He always did that, no matter how many times you told him no one would see him.

Damian stared down at the dozens of used Kleenex in the trashcan you kept near the bed. “Why are you upset?”

“I thought you knew...” your voice was strained, throat too tired due to the sobbing.

“I clearly don’t.”

“Tim dumped me for someone else.” Saying it in front of his brother was even worse than you had imagined. “Why are you here if it isn’t because I forgot to pack his brown jacket?”

Damian plopped down on your desk chair, staring directly at you, “patrol was boring and father is with Kyle again.”

Nodding, you went back to your spot on the bed, making yourself comfortable with a pillow on your lap.

“Are you tired?”

You were, but you didn’t want to be alone. “Not at all,” you lied so he wouldn’t dare leave. “Do you want to watch that movie you recommended to me last month?”

“Sure.”

Browsing through different streaming services until you found the film, you saw Damian take parts of his suit off in order to be more comfortable. Surprising you, he sat down on the bed, just beside you, once you had found the title.

You had to admit that paying attention was easier with him around, probably because you didn’t want to annoy him. The film did its job, you finally got distracted — you also fell asleep.

It became a routine, every night he would tap on your window and make you company. Some nights you would stay up until sunrise when you had to go to work, others he would be so tired he’d crash out on your couch, and a few nights you fully rested because his presence made you feel calmer.

Damian and you had never been too close, he and Tim had a complicated relationship and you didn’t want to have problems with your now ex-boyfriend. Now you hoped you had, he wasn’t what you had thought — Damian was nicer than every member of the family made him out to be, funnier, smarter, kinder. You genuinely enjoyed being around him.

He was extremely patient with you. He’d recommend you things to entertain yourself, let you vent when you needed, and without having to do it, would often make sure you had been eating properly because he had observed that between how much you had cried the days after the breakup, your job, and your lack of sleep you were low on energy. Damian had even spent an entire week helping you redecorate the apartment to cheer your spirit.

Being close to Damian meant spending time at the park with Titus, a shit ton of it, and trying new food every weekend, and visiting art galleries which had never been your thing. Being close to Damian also meant worrying because with all of his skills and abilities he was the most stubborn man you had ever met who often fought blindly just to end up in the Batcave's medical wing with a worried Alfred calling you to let you know your friend was hurt but alive.

Most importantly, being close to him meant feeling free to be yourself. You were sure no one would believe you, but it had never been truer.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Elevators had you tired, ironically. The only reason you hadn’t taken the stairs was that you were carrying a portfolio full of documents, a book bag, your purse, and a coat — everything was wet, just like you. Taking an umbrella would’ve saved you many nuisances, or not walking home from work, but you were too distracted in the morning to remember and now you were paying for it thanks to the rain that came with the nearing seasonal change.

You liked the rain, its sound was soothing, the smell made you aware of your own existence as it awakened your senses, you felt cleansed by it. A lovely thing to experience overall, just not after a long day of work.

Stepping out the second the elevator doors slid open, you took the keys out of your coat with your right hand. You let the straps of your purse slide down to your forearm as you flexed your arm while introducing the key in the lock, when it turned, you sighed out of relief and pushed the door open to finally get inside.

The lights were already on, sizzling echoed around the small apartment and a familiar smell of stir-fried vegetables hit your nose. You hung your coat, letting it drip as much water it naturally could before even daring to put it into the dryer.

Walking further into the apartment, you found Damian in the kitchen. He was wearing the comfiest clothes you had seen him on, sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt with only a pair of white socks.

“What are you doing in here with this weather?” you asked, taking a look at what he was cooking.

“I was bored.”

He always said the same, you always told him you didn’t believe him but he ignored it every single time. Patting his back, you announced you would get changed.

“Don’t take too long, dinner will get cold!”

As much as you were fine with Damian being there( and his cuisine,) you had to wonder why couldn’t he tell you his reasonings for his presence at your place. One thing was him visiting when you were there and another him practically breaking into your apartment — you were open to give him a copy of the keys, to be honest, but you would really appreciate it if he asked.

Dinner was delicious, shared over talk about your day. Damian was avoiding speaking about his day, about his entire week actually — in the past month and a half he hadn’t done anything close to that.

Sat on the couch in order to continue bingeing the show the two of you had started last week, you considered asking him what was going on with him. It partially scared you, the last time a member of that family had acted like that toward you they broke your heart.

Taking a deep breath, you threw your head backward to rest it against the edge of the sofa. Damian watched you, frowning. “Are you okay?”

You answered in a hum. “You?”

“Peachy.”

You moved around the couch, opening your eyes to stare at him. He stared back, the frown slowly disappearing from his face as seconds passed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you inquired in a timid voice.

“Father is planning on retiring.”

“Oh... are you taking over?”

“Yes.”

You couldn’t picture anyone but him doing it. Dick had been miserable as Batman, Jason wasn’t interested in being like Bruce after everything that had happened, and Cass was finally finding a balance in her life.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I am.”

“But?”

He shook his head, “but nothing. It was a long day.”

For your mental wellbeing, you didn’t press on it. He was clearly hiding something from you but he had the right to do so. It made you feel bad but whatever.

The lights flickered, prompting you to groan. The storm was getting worse, the sky was rumbling with thunder and the lighting striking the city and flashing into the living room through the thin white drapes was as mesmerizing as terrifying.

You mumbled, “can you stay?”

“Yes.”

Damian walked behind you, holding the flashlight from his cellphone to light the path toward your bedroom. You undid the bed quickly so he wouldn’t have to hold the device up for so long, you were sure it wasn’t an inconvenience to him but you still didn’t want to bother him.

He sat down on the bed, just next to you, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep, then I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You can sleep next to me if you want.” You felt your face burn up the second the words left your mouth yet you meant them. Oh, you did.

You heard shuffling. Assuming he was taking his sweatshirt off to get into bed, you moved away from the middle of the mattress toward the farthest side from him.

Getting under the duvet, Damian laid on his back. His cologne mixed with his usual smell of vanilla and almonds filled your nostrils as he dropped his head onto the pillow with his arms crossed against his front.

“Dami?” you whispered. He hummed in acknowledgment. “Can you get closer? I’m cold.”

With no hesitation, he turned over in order to lay on his side. Throwing his arm around you from behind, “Is that better?”

You relaxed with your back against his chest, letting a content sigh out. Damian inhaled deeply, taking a whiff off you. He did it again then, finding the smell of your lotion soothing. As he relaxed too, his arm curled around you more comfortably with his hand laying on your plump belly. You placed your hand on top of his, a little nervous yet excited. Being held was a nice feeling, one you had forgotten.

He lifted his fingers, brushing yours. You intertwined your fingers between his, playing with them. He huffed a light breath, caressing the sides of your fingers as you played with his.

Turning around, you got lost into the ethereal way the light from the lamppost entering through the window illuminated Damian’s side profile. He opened his mouth to probably say something but you abruptly shut him up. You did know what overcame you, it was something that had been simmering in you for the past month — the need of being near him, the butterflies that swarmed inside you when he laughed, the peace he brought you. He surprised you by kissing back.

“Shit,” you exclaimed, realizing you had actually done it. “I’m sorry, I—“

“It’s okay,” he interrupted to assure you. He placed his hand on your lower back, leaning in again. “Can we do it again?”

You kissed him again, feeling him tighten his arm around you in order to pull you closer. He deepened the kiss too, prying your mouth open as you held his face in order to ground yourself mentally. Damian laid you on your back, pushing you into the mattress as he straddled you — his lips didn’t leave yours, not even as both of you whimpered while his hands trailed up and down your thighs and yours mapped his back. Full-on making out with your best friend wasn’t how you pictured your shitty day ending, but you weren’t about to complain.

Damian couldn’t keep his lips off your face, enjoying the softness of your cheeks under his mouth and seeing the natural twitches of your nose which made him realize you were actually awake. He hoped he hadn’t awakened you up.

“I thought you were asleep.” The depth of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Were you pretending?”

You hummed, “it was hard with all those kisses.”

“I wasn’t kissing you,” he said teasingly, using his index and middle fingers to lift your head in order to continue kissing your face. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. You?”

He answered, “yes. The best in months.” It felt good knowing you weren’t the only one.

Damian hugged you close with both arms, exhaling happily, “you’re very warm.”

Hiding your face in his chest, you hugged back. You didn’t know what it meant, or the meaning behind the gesture of still cuddling in bed with the guy you had started developing feelings for mere weeks after breaking up with his brother. But it didn’t matter, you were comfortable in his arms and happy with seemingly having cracked his shell.

You had to ask, however. “Did I overstep last night?”

“No, I told you it was okay.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He pulled away enough to fully face you. You attempted to ignore him, shifting under his gaze. Damian licked his lips, “did I make you think otherwise?”

You shook your head, the sound the friction of the side of your face made against the pillow too loud for your liking. “I just... I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Is this ruining our friendship?”

You stuttered, “I— I think so?” You weren’t sure.

“I want to ruin it,” he stated, eyes fixed on yours, “more than anything.”

Your eyes dropped to his mouth as he said it, his full lips tempting you again. You were scared of the lack of guilt you were feeling, but you happily gave in. “Let’s ruin it, then.”

Smiling brightly, he dipped his face in order to kiss you. You were certain you would never get over his soft lips, the warmth of his breath, the firmness of his touch, his intoxicating scent, his silky voice... God, he truly had you smitten.

Nuzzling against your shoulder, he intertwined his legs with yours. “I don’t want to get out of bed yet.”

You giggled. “Then don’t.”

Damian decided he could do that, just cuddle his favorite person in the world until something came up, maybe.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You had been typing on your computer, as music harmonized your den-office when the doorbell rang. Looking at the time to try and guess who could be visiting you on a Tuesday noon, you pushed yourself back, away from the desk, in order to stand up.

Dot, the Labrador you had adopted no long ago wiggled her tail from her spot near the couch as you crossed the living room. She loved laying there, she had a good view of the door and could jump on you the second you got home.

You regretted opening the door the second you faced your visitor. Tim Drake smiled timidly at you, “hi, (Y/N).”

“I— uh, hello?” You tilted your head, confused as to what he was doing there, who had given him the address and why had he thought he would be welcome.

“Can I come in?”

You lifted your index finger. “Just a second.”

Opening the guest-closet, you took a pair of slippers out and padded back toward the door. Tim looked down at the slippers you were offering to him, then at his shoes — as he did, he realized you weren’t wearing any footwear.

He complied, taking his shoes off and sliding his feet into the slippers. When he asked where to put the pair of footwear he had just taken off, you pointed to a mat next to the door, just under the key holders. You closed the front door as he dropped his shoes.

“Wow,” he exclaimed, eyes taking in as much of the space around him as possible, “your taste has changed! How long has it been?”

“A little over a year and a half.”

“We really need to catch up!”

You motioned for him to sit down on the couch. Dot curiously stared at him when he did so while you asked, “do you want anything to drink?”

“Coffee would be fine,” he answered just to have more time to examine the living room. It was extremely luxurious, with a vaulted ceiling and oversized windows.

Curious about the overall design of the penthouse, and how good your job had to be for you to be able to pay for such living arrangements, he followed you toward the kitchen where you were preparing his coffee. It was as full of luxury as the living room, with stainless steel appliances, granite counter-tops and a breakfast bar the size of your previous apartment’s entire kitchen.

“How have you been?” He asked, sliding his palm against the marbled breakfast bar.

“I’ve been great.” You gave him a tight smile, placing the sugar bowl onto the bar.

“I’m glad. How’s your family?”

“They’re great, thank you.” Out of courtesy, you asked, “how have you been?”

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “well, after I abruptly broke up with you, from which I’m very sorry because I was a dick, my girlfriend broke up with me too...”

“I’m sorry.” You genuinely felt for him, being dumped out of the blue wasn’t something you wished upon anyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, you handed it to him.

“It’s okay,” he smiled openly, nodding as a thank you for the coffee and dropping a couple of spoonfuls of sugar into the beverage, “I’m over it. I moved to Europe when Bruce said he needed someone to supervise the branch of the company there, the drama wasn’t good for my spirit.”

“Why are you back? It’s not like Gotham has changed.”

“My best friend is getting married.”

You hummed, finding estrange that you hadn’t been invited to the wedding.

“You have a new boy or anything?”

You stuttered, dropping a teabag into a cup, “perhaps.”

“Come on, (N/N), tell me! I won’t get mad.” He deviated his gaze. “I’m over you and everything.”

You confessed then, pouring hot water on top of the herbs, “I am dating Damian.”

“Which Damian?”

You waited for your ex-boyfriend to swallow the sip of coffee he had just taken and took the opportunity to have a sip of tea to calm your nerves. “Wayne,” you explained.

“You’re dating my little brother?!” He whisper-shouted. You simply nodded. “For how long?”

“Eleven months.”

“So what? You ran into his arms as soon as I broke up with you?!”

You didn’t appreciate the tone he was using or what he was insinuating. Definitely not when he had cheated on you without for once thinking of sparing your feelings.

“Damian was there for me when no one else had the time, it just happened.”

“I thought you were going to stay away from my family,” he reproached you.

In all honesty, you had thought the same thing. As much as Alfred had told you to call him if you needed anything when he went to pick up the belongings Tim kept at your place, you hadn’t planned on doing it — but that same night, when Damian arrived, tired after a long patrol, and playing dumb by saying he had just dropped by because he was bored you decided you didn’t have to, you didn’t want to. Eventually, you evolved, as many things had after that night, not for Damian nor because of him but next to him, with his patience and support.

“I can’t believe you,” he shook his head.

“I thought you were over me.”

“I’m not jealous! But you deserve better than him — you’re so pretty and nice and he’s selfish and mean and depends on Bruce for everything.”

That didn’t sound like Damian at all. “Maybe you don’t know your brother.”

“You’re telling me he’s changed? Because I don’t believe it.”

You couldn’t be a testimony of Damian’s change when you had never seen the version Tim described, but you could definitely say Damian was everything you had always wanted in a partner and more — he was what you needed, what you loved.

“You still can do way, waaaaaay better than him,” Tim interpreted your silence as a confirmation of Damian’s change.

“Like who, Timothy?”

“Like me!” he exploded, clenching his eyes shut for a couple seconds to control his breathing. “I’ll go straight to the point: I miss you. I came back to get you back, there’s no wedding. I was too stupid to see what I had when I had it, I know, but I’ve changed,” he assured, “I have a new philosophy, I’m surrounded by better people. I’m not blind anymore.”

“Neither I am.”

He ignored your comment and went on, “let’s just start again. In another country, a new house. We’ll adopt as many puppies as you want!” Tim took an envelope out, “I have two plane tickets here for tomorrow. One is yours.”

The front door unlocked loudly, prompting both you and Dot to crane your necks in order to stare at it. Damian pushed it open, shoes in hand and blazer draping over his forearm.

You saw him focus on the pair of shoes on the mat for mere seconds before Dot happily wiggled her tail at him as she approached him. Damian threw his blazer to the nearest couch, quickly undoing his tie which followed suit, before hunching down to pet the little dog.

Out of habit, you left the kitchen to walk toward him and greet him. He stood back up, naturally towering over you and kissing you softly, “hello, beloved.”

You giddily smiled, forgetting you weren’t alone, “hi, handsome. I missed you.” Wrapping your arms around his waist, you inhaled his scent. God, you had truly missed him. Sleeping without him wasn’t the same, nor having to rely on music or the tv for the place to not feel alone. Two days of not hearing his voice not waking up tangled up with him were too much sometimes.

Damian put his hands on your waist, sighing at finally being able to touch your soft body again. “I missed you more.” He leaned downward, placing his lips on yours again.

“(Y/N),” Tim pleaded from behind you, making you jump.

Damian parted from you, looking past your shoulder and directly at his brother. “Drake. What are you doing in here?”

You stepped to the side, opting for opening the terrace’s door so Dot could have some fun outside. In the background, as you leant against the doorway and watched the little dog sniff the terrace, you heard Tim say Alfred had given him the address. Oh, sweet Alfred, always trying to keep the family together.

Turning around, you saw them both sit down in front of each other in the living room. Trying to keep them from fighting, you walked back into the room and sat down next to your boyfriend.

Tim immediately told you, “please don’t throw it all to waste for him.”

Both Damian and you frowned. He put his hand on your thigh, like he had done the first time he had taken you to a business dinner as his date, like he had grown used to do under any table. It was your favorite gesture, he wasn’t a big fan of PDA but he still made sure to always be touching you — the fact that he loved your thighs when you had always been insecure due to their size was a nice addition.

“I’m over you, Tim. Damian is my boyfriend, and with who I want to be.”

“He’ll never love you like I do, he can’t.” Tim’s tone was the harshest you had heard from him.

He was right, though. Damian would never love you like Tim did, that was the whole point. You didn’t want what Tim had to offer, the kind of love he could give — you were past that, you had been for a long time now and it felt amazing.

Tired and spent, Damian hugged you extremely tightly while cuddling that night, almost to the point where you struggled to breathe. Wiggling in his arms in order to turn around and face him, you wrapped your arms around him as best as you could.

“What’s wrong, Dami?”

“Nothing.”

You dropped yourself onto your back, struggling to bring him in but ultimately succeeding. Damian sighed, shifting to be more comfortable as he laid his head on your bare chest.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. Damian inhaled your scent, sighing in content — he was in his safe place. “I sometimes forget not everyone sees me the way you do.”

You supposed he was referring to Tim’s assumptions about him. “Does it bother you?”

“Only when they use it to try putting you against me.”

“You know they would never succeed, right?” You needed him to be aware of that.

“I do.”

“But?”

He moved to hover over you, fitting his legs between yours as he propped himself up with his elbows. “But it’s different when your ex does it. And no, I’m not jealous, I do trust you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. You understood what he meant, perfectly so. Damian had been there to pick up the pieces, he had helped you glue them together and even taught you to tweak them so the final piece would look better — with that, beautiful things had bloomed, but in between many tears had been shed on your behalf and many confessions had been made regarding your feelings in general; sprinkle in how hard it had been to process the fact that you had fallen for each other and you could understand where he was coming from. There was a piece of Damian in you, and there was a piece of you in him; at every level.

“It’s not relevant anymore, love,” you reminded him.

Damian caught your lips in a tender kiss, humming. “I just wish he wasn’t back.”

“He’ll be gone by tomorrow. And if he isn’t, I don’t care.” You started playing with his hair, unconsciously running your fingers up and down through his locks. “But I don’t want you to have a bad relationship with your brother because of me.”

“We’ve spoken about that.”

Damian had never been able to get along with Tim, his relationship with Dick was great and he had even built one with Jason, Cass was his favorite, and he had gotten to meet with Helena a few times. However, his resentment toward Tim heightened when you two started frequenting each other — he seemed to now despise him.

You tilted your head to pepper kisses over his jaw. “You’ll manage, Damian. You ignored him for years.”

Your boyfriend sighed dramatically, letting his weight gradually fall on top of you. Placing his hand on your cheek, he smirked before burying his face in your neck. “Besides,” Damian mumbled, “he’s not the one keeping you up tonight.”