#yet bruce still picked him up and went 'youre robin now :)'

[dukeofthomas]

why is everyone so obsessed with absolving bruce of all responsibility and fault. like no actually he is not 100% innocent in the child vigilantes he did in fact literally just Yoink Jason and make him robin at the ripe age of 12. jason would Not have become a vigilante (or died!) if bruce hadn't made him that. like he is actually 100% responsible for picking up a kid and turning them into a soldier

[deadsetobsessions]

Your name is Tim Drake and you are nine years old.

Today, tomorrow, and soon, you're going to save Robin.

----

Tim stares at his reflection on the sink tap. It trembles, along with the plane, as he contemplates his situation.

His face is rounder, now, with unfamiliar baby-fat rounding out the sharp lines he'd come to expect. Even with the subpar reflection, Tim can tell that his dark eyebags are all but gone, replaced with youthful skin.

Magic. He's being quite literal, seeing as he's been tossed into the body of his younger self at the hands of a crazed magician.

He could find a way back... or he could create a completely different timeline by fixing everything that went wrong. It's not like he has anything to go back to, anyways. That crazed magician was actually competent and killed everyone he ever cared about. Tim barely got away with his life. He could go back to save that shell of a world- surrounded by people whose minds were broken beyond magical and medical repair- or stay here, fix his own personal troubles and cut off the magician before he could start with his world domination bullshit.

Well, Tim already has an idea of what he wants. So he begins a list, after having oriented himself.

Save Robin

There's no point trying to convince Bruce that he knows where Jason's being held. So, Tim finds himself on a plane to Ethiopia a day before Jason's meant to die. This was long before Barbara even thought of being Oracle, and the tech is ancient in his hands. In short order, nine year old Tim has a trust fund with millions in it, all siphoned from billionaires like Lex Luthor and his own parents.

Tim toddles back to his seat, after washing his hands because he still can't shake the extra bit of paranoia that came with a missing spleen. Oh. Tim blinks guilelessly at his seat neighbor, smiling like Timothy Drake, Angel of a Son as he reels from the realization that he still has his spleen.

Tim adds another box to his list:

Keep Ra's away from my spleen, creepy bastard.

What else...? Ah, the League of Assassins.

Damian

Tim pauses. Holy crap. Damian's only six right now. Tim moves Damian's box upwards in urgency. Tim might have a mildly antagonistic relationship with his younger brother back then, but he wants baby pictures of his siblings, dammit. He's gonna put that photography expertise to good use if it's the last thing he does.

Watch over Z, Owens, Pru

'They're alive!' His mind screams. Cold rationality slaps the sentimentality down with a quick 'But they won't be if I fail.'

His mind wanders to Dick Grayson. He scowls as something pops up in the back of his head.

Catalina Flores

Contact Nightwing- in space

He's gotta call Dick back from that Teen Titans mission, Jason's gonna need all of the support he's going to get.

Find Cass

Train Steph

Save Duke's family from Venom

Tim taps at that last point. He'll save them. But that might mean Duke might never join their family.

But he'll be happy and Tim... will deal with it. He'll be the only one mourning, anyways. To end on a lighter note, he adds something that he should have done ages ago.

Give Tam a raise.

Tim sighs as he gets out of the airport, the hired escort he found and vetted, delivering him to a predetermined hotel. They think his parents are already inside. He laughs and does not say anything to make them think otherwise. He has so many things to do, Tim laments as he settles down to track the Joker's movements. Here. That's where Jason's being held. Being tortured.

He can, however, knock two things off his list in one go. Tim picks up the burner phone he acquired. He doesn't have time, or else he would have done this sooner and saved them all the trouble.

[RR: Are you in Ethiopia yet?]

[Deathstroke: Payment confirmed. In Ethiopia.]

[RR: Third building by the docks.]

An hour.

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Target spotted.]

Ten minutes.

[Deathstroke: Target eliminated. Bringing Robin to Safehouse.]

Twenty minutes.

[Deathstroke: Basic first aid applied. Leaving.]

[RR: Secondary payment sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Pleasure doing business with you.]

Tim sprawls on the king bed. He sighs a breath of relief. He'd check on Jason in person, if he weren't paranoid about leaving traces that would get back to him. Tim's pretty sure that Deathstroke's going to get hunted down in the near future, regardless, so he made sure to add a huge tip on top of the extra fees for burning one of Deathstroke's safe houses and the emergency first aid. He taps into the rudimentary camera Deathstroke had given him the access codes to, to stare at Jason's rising and falling chest. On a further table, the Joker's head laid in a preservation box.

He bypasses all of the security on the Teen Titan's tech to send Dick a message.

[Robin has been retrieved from the Joker. Contact Batman for details.]

Then, he sends Bruce the location of the safe house. Tim spends the rest of the day staring at Jason and watching his father in another timeline break as he huddles close to the broken body of Tim's Robin.

Timothy Drake destroys the burner phone.

[justanothervigalanty]

Jason and his girls

Age: y/n’s age (20) Jason’s age (21) Madeline’s age (5)

Characters:y/n m/n L/n , Jason Peter Todd and Madeleine/Maz Richard Todd 

info: you found out you were pregnant the day Jason died. You were so excited to tell him but then Bruce broke the news, Jason was dead only dick new about your and Jason’s little girl, Madeleine Richard Todd.

“Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home mama!” You heard your young 5 year old daughter say. “Maz honey we talked about this your father only comes for one week every other month, he was here last month baby” you said sitting up in bed. “No I promise I saw him come on!” She said dragging you out off bed with her two little hands. “Come on mama! Look it’s daddy!” She said pointing to the window. “Oh my god” you said seeing your boyfriend waving to you from the apartment opposite you. Maz opened the window and climbed out to the fire escape. “Madeline Todd you get back here right now!” You said as your daughter waved to her father. With that Jason used a grathaling hook and threw it to your fire escape and jumped over. “Hay mazie!” He said picking her up and bringing he back inside. “Jesus Christ maz don’t do that!” You said take in her in your arms. “Jace what’s wrong?” You said seeing the worried look on his face. “We need to go now” he said “pack all your things we need to leave!” He said grabbing some of maz’s things. “What jason what is going on!?” You said Jason’s hands were shaking as he grabbed his and some of maz’s things. “Maz hon go to your room and grab some clothes and your blanket.” She of course listens to her father which left you shocked she’s normally more stubborn than him! “Y/n were in danger we all are! The joker he’s targeted you, me and madeleine I need to get you both out of crime alley now!”  He said you just nodded and went to grab your bags. When you all finished packing you grabbed an old car seat and left your apartment, forever, your first home that you had raised your daughter in were you had marked her growing you would never see it again. “Babe? You ok?” You herd Jason say holding your hand. “I raised her in there. Since I was 16 we moved in on her first birthday dick helped pay and got some furniture for us and before you started visiting she would bang on the window every time see saw the red hood fighting some criminals and as she got more active she started running around hiding under tables holding her hands like a gun shouting boom at me.” You said trying to hold back tears by wiping your eyes “hay, hay don’t cry. I got you we all do. I know first homes are the hardest to leave behind.” Jason said hugging you “come on I called dick he’s driving us to the manor” 

you all went down stairs to see dick standing by his car. And helped you load it in before Jason and him got into a very quiet argument about who was driving (dick won). As you were on the road you whispered in Jason’s ear “you haven’t told Bruce yet have you?” 

“About what- oh yeah crap he has no idea.” He replied dick over herd and started laughing his butt off. “You mean Bruce has no idea you are a father to a freaking 5 year old!” He laughed “who is buse?” You herd your young daughter say “you haven’t even told her about him! God I question your parenting skills!” He said still laughing “can you shut up!” Jason said “no bad words Jason Todd!” Madeleine said giggling “hay is daddy or dad to you!” Jason said ruffling her hair “what? Mama called you that when she was shouting on the phone!” She said “she also said the b word” she added “no bad words miss Todd!” Dick said “not married!” You and Jason said at the same time. But then you arrived Wayne manor. You hadn’t been here in 6 years and god had it changed. But the worst thing was Bruce and Damian outside practicing hand to hand combat. Jason took a deep breath and when’t out to grab maz “umm nope we don’t need another robin no thank you!” Damian said seeing Jason and his niece (not that he knew). “She is not going to end up a robin! It’s stupid dangerous and dumb!” Jason said back “wait y/n?” Bruce said surprised to see you “god you look well different um when did I last see you?” 

“At Jason’s grave. I was 15. I told you I was leaving and not coming back.” You replied “well here she is!” Dick said closeting his door “Todd who is the child?” Damian asked unwrapping his hands. “Oh yeah Bruce there’s something I need to tell you. But can we go inside first?”jason said handing Madeline to dick. 

You and Jason were sat opposite Bruce. You were staring at the floor and Jason was figiting with his hands. “So what is this about? And who is the kid?” Bruce asked “That’s the thing, umm Bruce the girl is my daughter…” you said quietly but loud enough for Bruce to hear. “So you have been playing step-dad? Bruce laughed a bit to which Jason replied with a nervous chuckle. “No well she’s umm my kid like I am her dad and not like “oh yea I love her like my own kid” no as in half of her DNA is from me” Jason replied. “Ho wow umm ok well she looks a lot older than 2 or 3. That how long Jason had been coming over right?” Bruce said calmer then expected “well Bruce she’s kinda…5 years old…” the room fall silent. Bruce just covered his face in his hands. “So correct me if I’m wrong but if I am not mistaken y/n must off had her at-omg…”Bruce said realising “you got a girl pregnant at 16 and you got pregnant at 15…Jason .” Bruce said trying to stay calm. For the first time Jason actually looked kinda nervous. “Umm yeah Bruce?” “You where having sex at 16!” Bruce said through his teeth. “We were 14” you whispered after Jason put his hand over your mouth you stopped talking . “Ok what did you both call her?” Bruce asked “ho well I named her Madeline but Jason had always liked the name and plus he though up most her nicknames” you said not knowing how Bruce react to this. “Madeline or maz Richard Todd”

[nerdofspades]

Danny is on the run (reveal gone wrong, Vlad went too far, or GIW gaining brain cells, take your pick) and he makes his way to Gotham, the only place he can reasonably hide.

He's injured, scared, and cut off from all his resources, so he's been squating in a rundown half abandoned apartment somewhere, waiting to be healed enough to start trying to figure out something more sustainable.

And it just so happens that this place is where Jason sets up his first safe house when he returns to Gotham to become Red Hood, kill the Joker, and beat Bruce over the head with his failures.

Obviously, because Danny was squating, no one was really able to warn either of them about the other.

So Jason literally walks into the apartment with bags of essentials (including many guns) and basic furniture on the way and the first thing he sees is a half feral teenager in filthy ragged clothes, bundled in thread bare (and just as dirty) blankets just. In the corner.

Now, dirty or not, the kid is obvious Wayne bait. (Sure Bruce had only taken in three at this point, but three is a patern.) And Jason might be pit mad, but he is not kicking out a starving kid that looks like he's waiting for Jason to literally kick him. Not when he knows what it's like on the streets. Not when he knows this kid could wind up in the manor.

So he just. Moves in around him. And makes sure there's enough food for both of them that night. And the next.

He isn't adopting the kid. Definitely not. He's got revenge plans to deal with but... he's not heartless either. Kid can come and go as he pleases, but if he can provide a safe place for him to sleep and some warm food he doesn't have to steal, then he's going to.

On Danny's end. He knows there's something sketchy about this guy. He smells like shit, and he got this crappy apartment, but he also clearly has money? All the furniture is pretty clean and new (though it's all generic and nothing fancy). And of course. All the guns. Hard to ignore that part.

Danny really shouldn't stay anywhere near him. Not safe. (Not for either of them if who ever he's running from catches up and this guy shows up on their radar.)

Hell. This guy should know better than to let a total stranger hang out when he's planning something that requires that many guns.

But all he does is tell Danny he can stay and to not touch the guns.

And then he feeds Danny.

And gives him a spare key.

Neither of them speak to each other for weeks.

Danny is well enough to move. But he doesn't want to.

So he doesn't.

He comes and he goes. But he doesn't leave.

(It's a bad idea. He should leave. But. Maybe there's safety in numbers.)

And then things start shaking up. Black Mask's lieutenant are dead. Someone is starting a gang war.

But no one can figure out who's leading it. No one knows what gang.

Danny sees his... live in acquaintance come back to the apartment injured.

He sees more guns and more ammunition.

He knows it's not a gang.

Not yet.

They still don't talk.

Not until Red Hood comes in through the window one night, and Danny grabs the first aid kit and patches him up without asking any questions.

He makes the first step and tells Hood his name. Only his first name. His last isn't useful anymore.

And they talk.

They share some stories.

Edited. Half true stories.

And they talk through some stupid shit.

But eventually. They stop hiding behind half truths too. It only takes so many times covering each other for the full story to spill.

In for a penny and all that.

Jason convinces Danny he should finish his schooling.

Danny convinces Jason that maybe the new Robin isn't a part of his problems.

Jason doesn't drop his plans for revenge. Or stop blaming Bruce.

Danny refuses to go to a public school, but allows for online schooling.

Jason gets Danny a new name. A new identity. He needs one for school.

Maybe he did adopt the kid after all.

Jason really hopes Bruce never finds out.

Of course Bruce finds out.

[brucewaynehater101]

I'm seeing a lot of asks about this and I want to give my two cents: I'm cool with Bruce being a bad father, but only if DC admits that he is a bad father.

You can't have him doing downright abusive shit only to never address it. The only character that consistently criticizes Bruce parenting is painted as entitled and vindictive. I genuinely think the reason why we can't have a decent Red Hood arc is because if you want Jason to make sense you're gonna have to admit Bruce is a fucked up father or rewrite canon.

Same reason for Tim "never aging", not so much physically but emotionally. Because to have the character establish itself like Nightwing did you would need to address at some point all the bullshit he went through. Even with Dick. Like sometimes it looks like they want to recognize how being raised by Batman fucked him up by they end up settling for "oh it's the pressure". Like that's the most DC will say "Batman puts his kids under a lot of pressure buuuuuut it's justified because they're fighting evil :)".

Not just the kids, I think Batman himself would be so much more interesting if DC was willing to let him confront these things. As a redemption arc or as a fatal flaw that keeps his family at arms length. But they want to have their cake (have Batman be edgy and give the Robins Character Development™ through good old child abuse) and eat it (have Batman be Dad of the year). And that's what doesn't work.

Batfam fandom is great because you have people making content for Good Father Bruce, Bad Dad Bruce (he's trying and it's a bit funny/tragic), Awful Father Bruce (with no intention of changing. Every option is way more interesting than DC's directionless mess. Like, we don't even need them to make Bruce Good™ we just want them to pick a side and stick to it.

Thank you. My gods that sums it up perfectly.

Like, I've got no problem consuming Good Dad Bruce content... if it's not the comics. The animated stuff is usually fine, and fanwork is also great. There's a ton to like about it.

Hell, I'm even chill if Bruce makes mistakes and errors and fucks up with his kids. That's realistic, as long as they address that he did, in fact, do that shit. They need to talk about how his actions have hurt his kids and his relationships with them. He can try to do better, or he can stay distant with his kids because of it (low to no contact). It's truly not that difficult to chat about.

Now, media that addresses all of the horrid stuff he's done and considers realistic reactions/solutions to it? Fantastic. I love that so much. It's so cathartic watching him get his ass handed to him.

It's not necessary, though. I'm chill with good dad Bruce.

Despite that, outright ignoring what he does or brushing it under the rug? That's horrific. That reads like a sickening cycle of abuse, and I can't stand it. It's the exact same shit an abuser pulls by harming their victim (psychologically, mentally, physically, etc.), apologizing (ish), finding a way to pin the blame back on the victim, and then love bombing. Like, my gods. Bruce will beat the shit out of Jason and say it's Jason's fault for killing someone... "I wouldn't harm you/take a machine to permanetly fuck up your brain if you didn't do that. It's not my fault that I decided to hurt you. It's your fault that I did."

I just fucking can't.

I think Tim, with his little statement of "I don't expect you to apologize" after Bruce caused him to have a nervous breakdown post 16th birthday, that's a close approximation to admitting that Bruce is a piece of shit that does tendencies like an abuser. No matter what someone's intentions are, they should still apologize if they've cause unjustified/unintentional harm. Only assholes who don't regret their actions or people who feel their actions are justified won't apologize. There's times when apologizing isn't necessary or desired. That's fine. I won't apologize if Comic!Bruce and I are in a room, and I "accidentally" set him on fire.

Yet, Bruce is out here fucking up his kids. At the very LEAST, they deserve a fucking apology. Maybe a restraining order.

I ranted a bit. My bad. Anyways, have DC acknowledge the shitty actions Bruce does or don't have him do them. It's simple.

[theodorecanaryhood]

Birdie

Arkham Knight/Red Hood/Jason Todd x Male! Reader

Commissioner Gordon had ordered a City wide evacuation, no civilian to be left - course the odd few stayed behind.

‘Sparrow, what’s your location?’ Batman ask through the comms.

He was roaring down the streets chasing down his next lead to this Arkham Knight, you stayed high up.

‘On top of Iceberg Lounge, Barbara called and needs help. I’m gonna head there now’ you said, grappling to the next building.

‘Robin is at GCPD, he will join the mission later, I need you to stay out of danger’ Batman said for the fourth time tonight.

You entered the clock tower which was used as Oracles base of operations, Barbara had been your friend for a few years now.

When she was Batgirl and you were protege to Selina Kyle, though you liked being good more and Bruce needed extra help since Dick left.

‘Y/n, that you?’ Barbara called out, you walked into the room. Not losing the cowl yet.

‘Yeah sweetness, it’s me’ you smiled, handing Barbara the Chinese food you picked up on the way.

‘Thank God, I forgot to eat’ Barbara chuckled as she took the food from you.

‘I noticed’ you chuckled too, looking at the screens.

The Arkham Knight was causing mayhem but no one knew who he was, you theorised it might be someone personal as he knows Bruce is Batman. But, there were no other details other than he’s military.

‘We ever consider Tim for this Knight character?’ You asked serious as Barbara looked at you.

‘My Tim? No way’ she laughed, picking up her chopsticks and beginning to eat.

‘I’m serious Babs, he could be, he’s never around whenever we go up against the Knight’ you spoke with reason.

Barbara shrugged a little as she looked back at the monitors, you heard a noise in the distance but couldn’t work out what it was.

Batman suddenly appeared on the screen with urgency, panic in his eyes as he called out to Barbara.

‘Oracle, get out of there, now’ Batman called through the speaker.

‘Relax B, no one knows I’m here’ suddenly the power was cut and before you knew it someone had hit you over the back of the head.

It went black for a good space of time, in which you had no recollection of what happened. You just knew you were waking up when your head started to thump.

‘Leave him, he won’t be trouble. If he knows what’s good for him’ you heard a voice, modulated and dark.

You felt a little fear but Bruce always told you to disregard your fears when around an enemy. They’ll sense it and prey on you.

‘Well, hello Birdie’ the Knight said as he pulled the sack off your head.

You weren’t wearing your cowl anymore so he could see your face clearly.

‘What have you done to Barbara?’ You demanded as the Knight laughed, kneeling in front of you.

‘She’s fine, in another room. So what’s your story Handsome?’ He asked as he touched your knee.

You jerked your leg away from his reach as he stood up, his voice being heard even when muttering under his breath.

‘I see how it is Birdie, well, I’ll leave you a little longer and come back later when you’re ready to cooperate’ the Knight said as he left the room.

You didn’t know how long it had been since the Knight last paid you a visit, but you were still alone in the room.

A few Militia members came into the room, you went to throw a punch but were tased and out in a second.

You woke up soon after in a different room, just you and the Knight. Who was now standing in front of you.

‘Hello again Birdie’ he chuckled as you stood up and found your wrist shackled to the wall.

‘Where the fuck am I? What do you want?’ You asked, face as threatening as you could make it.

‘Where’s Batman?’ The Knight asked you, completely ignoring your question.

‘Looking for you’ you looked to the door as you spotted a shadow walking passed.

You calculated in your head it would take roughly 30 seconds to make it to the door from where you were, yet, you would need to find a way to get out of the shackles and passed the Knight.

You suddenly lifted your arms up in front of your face as the Knight came toward you, his hand in front of him.

‘I’m not going to hurt you Birdie, I’m gonna undo your shackles. If you run, I’ll have to hold you down’ The Knight said as he revealed the key in his hand.

You obeyed orders and allowed the Knight to release you, he held your arm as he took you to another room.

This from was dimly lit as you saw four Militia members stand guard with their guns.

‘Hold him until I tell you, well let him go once Batman is dealt with’ Knight said as he left you in the room with the men.

You found yourself tied to the chair as they stood and looked on, readjusting their aims every time you looked like you were about to move.

It has been at least an hour by now, the Knight hadn’t come back yet and you were getting impatient.

Bruce has to be nearby surely, but you needed to find Barbara first. You watched the room and saw two of the men were further away from you, one with their back turned.

You could catch them off guard, but you would need to be quick. Though you were tired, adrenaline would need to take over.

‘I don’t like the way he’s looking at me’ one Militia member said, you didn’t let go of your eye contact.

‘Just ignore him, he doesn’t have any power’ another one responded.

You counted down in your head that you could potentially knock them down on 30 seconds or so, though it would need to be relying on speed and accuracy.

The biggest member got closer to you with his gun in your face, smiling devilishly.

‘Something you want to share?’ He asked trying to seem threatening.

You swing your leg up and kicked him in the thigh, knocking him off guard.

You rose to your feet and have a hard head butt, swinging your back, still being tied to the chair, knocking another member over.

You threw yourself on the ground and broke the chair, grabbing a gun and shooting all four Militia men in the arms, legs or shoulders.

You managed to get the door open, thankfully it wasn’t locked, going to the room you were sure Barbara was in. Seeing she isn’t there, you panicked.

‘Birdie?’ The Knight almost whispered as you saw he was standing. You couldn’t see, but for some reason you knew he was smiling under the mask.

‘Your men suck’ you mocked, lifting the stolen gun in your hand, pointing it at the Knight.

‘You’re outta Ammo’ he chuckled as you pulled the trigger, hearing a click.

The Knight came forward and hit you over the head, making it all go black.

Time seemed to stop for a while as you woke up to daylight, Dick and Tim sitting next to you as you found yourself in a hospital bed.

‘Where am I?’ You mumbled as the two rushed to your side.

‘Gotham General, don’t try and move too much’ Tim said softly, placing his hand on the top of your head.

Barbara?’ You asked, Tim smiled and nodded, answering with no words to let you know she’s fine.

‘Scarecrow?’

‘Arkham, he’ll be there a while. The Knight took off, no one can find him. But I’ll take that as a good thing’ Dick stood near your feet.

‘Where’s Bruce?’ You asked, Dick looked down as Tim teared up a little.

‘He was revealed as Batman, him and Alfred were in the Manor when they released the Knighfall Protocol’ Tim choked a little, you were stunned.

You’d heard of the Knightfall Protocol, but you’d hoped that Bruce would never have to use it.

After grieving and working as a solo act for a while, you’d found yourself coming across the plans of Black Mask.

You’d got to his source of latest crime, the location being not too difficult to find alone.

You walked around to find his men down, some shot or necks snapped. You saw the leftovers of the massacre, only to hear talking in the distance.

Going into a room where you found Black Mask being held up against the window by a man in a mask.

You gasped as you saw Black Mask get kicked out the window, falling to his death.

‘Say hi to Joker for me’ The masked man said, he turned and stood still when he saw you looking at the outcome.

‘Way to make a statement’ you said with a small smile.

The stranger said nothing as he picked up a bag, putting his guns back in the holsters.

‘Do you have a name?’ You asked, the new guy simply nodded.

‘Red Hood’

‘You need help? I’ve found myself working alone since the Bats left’ Red Hood shook his head, placing the bag on his shoulder.

‘I work alone, but thanks for the offer’

You stood deciding on what to do next now that Sionis is taken care of.

‘It’s good seeing you again, Birdie’ Red Hood said as you turned around to look at him.

The suit, the build, the violence and the tone of anger in his voice. It made sense.

‘Knight?’ Was all you got out before Red Hood grappled out of the building.

Gotham City lights were always beautiful to look upon from the rooftops, it had been weeks since the takedown of Black Mask.

‘You’re not an easy man to track down’ you announced yourself to Red Hood. He simply turned around to look at you, then continued on what he was doing.

‘I don’t need a partner Birdie’ he said lowly as you approached.

‘I know, but it would be nice to have friends. Batman is gone, Robin retired and Nightwing went back to Bludhaven. There aren’t many of us left now’ you revealed.

Red Hood scoffed, looking at you as he took off his mask.

‘Us Batboys have gotta stick together huh?’

‘Jason? Jason Todd?’ You asked in disbelief, Jason nodded.

‘In the flesh’

It was this moment that had you thinking that life was in a way, turning in the right direction. You’d only ever heard of Jason, and just that Bruce lost his second son.

Gotham City was under the control of the two of you, and you could both help clean the streets.

You both looked upon the city in a comfortable silence, as you both realised you had the city to yourselves.

[ladytauria]

💖 and 🧠 from the ask game <33

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

my writing voice! i used to hate re-reading my own writing but now i can do so comfortably, even when i pick up on mistakes i missed or things i would change <3

i'm also fairly proud of my imagery, lol. that was something i worked hard to develop, and while i DO forget to like... describe things still when im writing, when i do remember/go back to add that in i feel more confident in my results lol

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

i have SO MANY of these

okay. i counted up the ones i have fleshed out outlines for, since there's more to talk about, and then i rolled a die <3

so! it's a jaytim fic inspired by the lyric, "why do you make me want to leave the world behind?" from the song stardust by new politics. the rest of the song doesn't actually fit, & i'll probs end up not using that line as the title, lol.

my outline for it is almost more of a not-fic than an outline, so... i'll just paste that in here, ig. pls excuse my brackets <3

why do you make me want to leave the world behind?

Jason couldn’t tell you what the final straw was. Maybe it was the last argument he got into with Bruce. Maybe it was hearing Joker’s laugh, again, echoing through the streets of Gotham. Maybe it was the gunshot he took to the shoulder, a few weeks ago. It— The point is, it could have been any number of things. Whatever the final straw, one thing is clear: he can’t do this any more.

And it’s not that he wants to abandon Crime Alley, or his people, it’s just—

He’s tired. He’s been tearing himself apart for the mission since he was twelve. He died, even—only to come back and keep doing it. And now… He’s just… done. He wants to live, and he can’t do that when the mission controls his life. He needs out.

Thing is…

He can’t leave Tim.

Tim is… somewhere along the way, Tim has become his rock. They’ve moved in together. When Jason suits up, Tim is at his side. When Tim needs stitches, it’s Jason holding the needle. When Jason comes home, knuckles bruised and lip split, it’s Tim there with the ice pack. And when they’re finished tending each other’s wounds, large and small, they fall into bed together—sore but together.

Jason doesn’t want to give that up.

He knows Tim won’t leave Gotham. Knows that Tim views Robin/Red Robin as the most important thing he’s ever done, the thing that gives him purpose, makes him feel real. He can’t ask him to leave it. He can’t.

But he’s not sure he can stay, either.

It’s a big, tangled mess, and Jason is no closer to figuring out what to do when Tim approaches him one evening. He sits down with him, holding his tablet, looking like he’s got something on his mind. He doesn’t bother with much preamble.

“My parents bought a place in [idk, some nice coastal or country area] a long time ago. A small vacation home, I think. It was one of those things we didn’t lose when Dad went bankrupt. I think… It looks like a nice place to retire, don’t you think so?”

Jason can hardly believe what he’s hearing, even as he agrees with feeling. He has to pinch himself once or twice, as they start making plans. They’re as methodical about it as they are everything else, hashing out all the details. It doesn’t feel real; not even when they inform the others, not when they start packing. Not even when they finally make the move, or unpack, or settle into the house.

It’s not until the second morning that it starts to sink in. This is real. It’s happening.

They grow roots. Befriend the neighbors. Tim gets back into photography, dragging Jason out with him on long walks to capture the scenery. He gets a job, too, working on cars, and talks Jason into pursuing a degree, the way he always wanted.

They gets visits and calls from the bats, and their friends—some more than others—and they usually even remember to leave business out of it. It’s… everything Jason wanted, honestly—though it’s not always easy. There are still nightmares, restless nights, and times when neither of them can watch or read the news without the urge be out there. Especially when there’s a crisis.

The worst of it, though, is the itching, nagging feeling in Jason’s chest. The thing that tells him it’s too easy. Too simple. Eventually something has to break—and each nightmare, each restless night makes Jason more and more certain it’s going to be Tim. One day, he’s going to wake up and decide that a quiet life with Jason isn’t what he wants after all.

He’ll leave.

Jason keeps his worries to himself. Just—tries to bottle up the good days, tucking them close under his heart, to keep him warm when he’s alone.

Before he knows it, though, a year passes. Tim still hasn’t left. Jason wakes up first, like he always does, and puts on the coffee before starting breakfast. Tim stumbles out of their bedroom just after Jason finishes the pancake batter. Even with a regular sleep schedule, he’s still not a morning person.

He goes for Jason first; winding his arms around his waist and sneaking a kiss before he pours his coffee. He slips out of the way, leaning against the wall to sip his coffee and watch Jason. And somewhere between the first batch of pancakes and the fourth, he glances over, and—he sees it.

Tim is smiling at him over the rim of his cup, still a little hazy from sleep. His eyes are no longer laden with bags. His skin is clear, a little tan. He’s got freckles, just a few, dotting his face. There’s a light, a glow to him that once Jason only saw in glimpses.

He’s happy.

Here.

With Jason.

It knocks the breath from him. He doesn’t know what his face is doing—only that Tim is at his side in an instant, coffee forgotten on the counter. Wrapped in Tim’s arms, Jason finds himself spilling everything, every thought and fear that’s plagued him for the last year. When he’s done, Tim smiles sadly, his hold turning into something like a cradle, despite their size difference.

“Robin was the most important thing in my life for a long time. First because watching you both, knowing what I knew… made me feel part of something bigger. Something amazing. And then because it gave me purpose. I was doing something that mattered, and so that made me feel like I mattered. And being good at it… It made me feel like I belonged, like I was wanted.” He strokes Jason’s cheek. “But… It always felt like it could be taken away. There were times when I thought it had been. And then… us. Jason, I don’t need Robin anymore. You make me feel like I matter—and I don’t… I don’t have to… to be perfect, or prove myself. I can just be here, with you, and that’s enough. I’m enough. And that… It means everything, Jay.”

Jason is tearing up. Supposedly, he’s the one who’s good with words—and Tim has pages of love poetry and sweet letters tucked away that can attest to that—but right now? He has none. All he can do is kiss him, and hope that everything he wants to say comes through.

The gratitude. The awe. The agreement. Tim does matter, and he doesn’t have to do anything to earn it, because Jason loves him. And fuck—the reason Jason stayed, the reason he couldn’t just leave on his own was because with Tim…

Tim has always taken him as he is. He doesn’t ask Jason to be anything more than he is, and because of that… Jason wants to be. He feels like the best version of himself when they’re together, and to hear that he gives Tim that same feeling—

It’s everything.

Tim’s coffee grows cold. Breakfast burns.

Neither of them care.

[ fic writer ask game ]

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 22/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Twenty-Two: Firsts

"If that school doesn't open back up soon, I'm going to lose my mind," Barbara paced back and forth. Jim looked up from his desk work.

"I might take him up to Layton for a few days," Jim whispered, "Be patient with him... He's only been out of school one week." Jason knocked on the door. Jim got up and let him in, and Barbara said her goodbyes and left them to have lunch together.

"She's mad at me, isn't she?" Jason asked.

"No, she's frazzled... Listen, I think it's a good idea for me to take you camping for three days," Jim suggested. Jason lit up. "Just us two fellas. What do you think?"

Jason nodded slowly before smiling. "When?" Jason asked.

"If the weather permits, day after tomorrow. If it doesn't, we'll figure something out. Whatever it is, I'm gonna take off for three days, and we're gonna have some real father/son time," Jim promised. Jason sat down at Jim's desk, and they ate their lunch quietly for a long while.

"You're not sleeping, are you?" Jim asked. Jason didn't look up from his food. "Jason, can we talk about it?"

Jason picked over his food for a moment longer. "I'm having nightmares again. Pop," Jason whispered.

"Jason, you're not in trouble. I just—. Can you tell me why you didn't say anything?" Jim asked. Jason raised his shoulders. "Hey, no. I'm not mad at you. I'm just asking."

"You're busy at work," Jason whispered, "And you—."

"I'm a father first, Jason... I'm your father first," Jim whispered. Jason went back to eating. "What's eating at you?"

"My mom used to say something to me when I was younger, and I never thought much of it until now," Jason whispered. Jim pushed his food aside to give Jason his full attention. Jason still couldn't manage to look Jim in the eye. "She told me that there's no reason for me to explain myself to anyone. I don't know. I think it's because she knew I didn't have it all figured out... Pop, I still don't have it figured out, and it never bothered me before now," Jason mumbled.

Jim leaned forward and rested a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Whatever it is, you don't have to have it figured out right now. You've got time," Jim whispered. Jason pushed his food aside.

"Pop, I don't know what I am, but I know I'm not straight," Jason whispered. Jim stood up, and Jason shrank away for a moment in anticipation of anger or disappointment or complete dismissal. Jim crouched by his side and embraced him.

Jason tensed up for a moment before hugging Jim back. Jim stood up and went back to his seat, and neither of them said a word for several minutes. "Is there someone?" Jim asked. Jason smiled and shrugged.

"I dunno yet... Not for sure," Jason mumbled, "I did dance with this guy, though." Jim took a sip of his soda.

"At the masquerade ball? Do you know who he was?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, but I'm starting to think he doesn't know who I was. Either that or he's playing it off really well," Jason answered.

"But you don't want to bring it up to him?" Jim asked. Jason shook his head. "I think maybe you should at least try..."

"I wouldn't know what to say. Hey, this is the first time I've ever danced with someone, and I know it was you. Did you know it was me? That sounds weird," Jason sighed.

Jim put his fork down. "Wait, does Babs know?" Jim asked. Jason nodded. "She didn't have any advice?"

"No, she told me to wait for him to talk to me," Jason answered. Jim shook his head.

"Wrong. We're gonna ignore that advice. Ask your friend if he remembers seeing you at the dance, and see where that goes," Jim replied. Jason took a deep breath and nodded. "You don't have to do that now if you don't want to."

Jason called Reese and took a deep breath. "I won't do it if I don't do it now," Jason whispered as he held the phone to his ear.

"Jay, how's it going?" Reese answered.

"Hi... Are you by yourself right now?" Jason asked as he got up and started pacing.

"Um... Hold on," Reese whispered. Jason heard a chair drag against the floor. "Papa, I'm going upstairs!" Jason sat in silence on the phone as he listened to Reese run up the stairs. "Okay. I'm by myself. What's up?"

"Do you remember anything from the dance?" Jason asked.

He leaned against the wall as he waited for an answer. "What do you mean?" Reese asked. Jason pushed off of the wall and started pacing back and forth past Jim's desk.

"Do you remember seeing me at all?" Jason asked. Jason could hear Reese take a deep breath over the phone.

"I remember dancing with you... It's all I could think about and—. Please tell me you didn't think of it as a joke," Reese pleaded. Jason could hear the pain in Reese's voice, and it was the first time he'd ever heard Reese be upset about anything.

"It wasn't a joke to me. I promise," Jason whispered, "I just didn't know if—. I'm just wondering what that means for later on. You and me?"

"Yeah, I uh... I don't want you to feel bad because I like you a lot... I just can't let my dad find out," Reese whispered.

"Oh," Jason frowned as he stopped in his tracks.

"But I don't care if anyone else knows at school... If that's okay with you, I'd really like to go out with you," Reese explained.

The air left Jason's lungs for a moment, and he looked over at Jim and smiled. "Jay?" Reese asked innocently. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah... Yes, yes, I'm still here. Yeah, I'd like that a lot," Jason beamed, "Sorry, I was so excited I forgot to answer. Um, maybe next week you can come over, and we'll watch a movie or something?"

"Reese!" yelled a woman in the background.

"One more minute, Four!" Reese yelled.

"Stop calling me Four!" she yelled.

"Sorry, and yes. I'd like that... I gotta go," Reese whispered.

"I'll text you," Jason whispered back with a smile on his face, and he hung up. He stood still for a while, still smiling. "Pop, can I have a date at the apartment next weekend?"

"Sure. No rated R movies," Jim replied. Jason nodded enthusiastically. "Now, come and finish your lunch before it gets cold," Jim chuckled.

[triscribeaucollection]

Hi! For the writing asks: ✨ and 🌷?

Hi Crystal! Your timing is perfect, and I'm gonna combine these to ramble about my topic of the evening: Justice League Unlimited plays Wolfen and Warlocks

✨ - newest wip / 🌷 - writing achievement you want to brag about

Some of the stone elementals charged forward to throw punches. Others cracked and split the ground, making it harder to approach them by foot. The biggest one, guarding the portal, created a ring of spikes to better protect it.

And Clark’s friends proved exactly why an RPG was the best choice for them to play, rather than a card or board game.

Wally annoyed different targets into following him into range of Diana’s fists. John pinned others in place for Shayera to strike and destroy. Clark and J’onn cast magical shields and restored health points, keeping everyone else moving, and when Bruce’s fairy reached the others to share what he’d learned about the portal’s crystal power source, the seven of them formed up seamlessly to go after it.

Even better, they all clearly had fun doing so.

And *I* had *immense* fun writing this nonsense, okay?

Picking out races, abilities, and stats for each of the seven, figuring out how to balance them against one another through the game encounter, picking the exact worst possible moment for Bruce roll a 1 and almost hit Wally's character instead of the final boss, which he is absolutely never going to live down, that's gonna become the running joke for however many chapters this thing goes:

Flash: "You missed! He was three feet in front of you, how could you miss-!"

Batman: "Shut. Up."

Flash: =D

But of course I've already determined how I'm going to have more fun with it, by bringing in Zatanna to play Storymaster so Clark isn't pulling double duty. And she gets invested, my dudes, full on spooky voice reading the intro blurbs, using magic to make a veil of mist around her spot at the table, bringing the map and character tokens to life for a bit of flair, so on and so forth

There will be other superheroes who get interested. Further interactions in twos and threes as the game spreads through the League. Robin hears about all this and pesters Batman to teach him to play, and between the two of them at home it basically turns into an extra training exercise, Bruce making use of the 'solve a mystery' aspect woven into most pre-made campaigns to teach Tim some more detective skills (this being the DCAU and not comics continuity)

I might even have Alfred insist on hosting one night, just so he gets to lay eyes on Bruce opening up his walls bit with friends- sorry, *cough*, colleagues. Tim will of course get to join in, and does NOT hesitate to grab the "You Missed!" joke and run with it like the little gremlin he deserves to be. Dick and Babs will be beyond delighted when he lets it slip to them as well >:D

And this is like. Full circle, for me. Rather emotional, when I think about it.

Few years back I was writing a scene for a story in a whole other fandom, and decided the kid main character and his best friend needed to be distracted from ongoing misfortune in the form of a new adult friend teaching them to play a D&D knockoff game. I didn't want to use *actual* Dungeons and Dragons, because where's the fun in that, but I felt I needed some actual Thing to use as reference rather than purely winging it. And thus, Wolfen and Warlocks was born.

Now, rather than making things up as I went along for that fic, I've got the Actual Game to reference, or at least all the materials meant for the first edition of it. Not put together or published, yet, but that's only because I'm still beta testing with the help of various friends - including @yogurtbear242, Player The First who gave the best reactions to unexpected developments and was an all around good sport despite not ever having played a tabletop rpg before, in-person or online:

(Everybody salute Bear for being a wonderful crash test dummy)

And now! I get to put the Justice League's founding members through the same shenanigans!!

Self-indulgence *and* self-promotion at it's finest x)

[robingurl]

TABS - Deep Freeze Fic

@sillylittlegeek

You're story is finished m'dear! :) I do hope you like!

TABS

Mr. Freeze After

He kept looking back over his shoulder checking on the boy that was stuck in the ice. He could tell the thermal material sewn into the cape by Alfred was working to help melt some of it but no where near enough.

“Robin?” He called trying to sound as calm as he could while at the same time, his mind swirling on the next steps. “Stay awake.”

A few long seconds before he heard teeth chattering and a weak “I’m here”.

“Don’t worry, you’re going to be ok. We have an immersion tank in the Batcave.” Once again there was a slight shake in Batman’s voice. He knew with all of the reassuring that time was against them and Robin knew that.

“You have exactly one hour to thaw the victims of Mr. Freeze.” Batman had said it himself to Gordon, Bullock, the doctors, nurses - anyone who helped the ones Victor Freeze had iced and now he was saying it again to himself.

Through the main windshield of the ship he was driving he saw Gotham City finally getting closer. They had been on the water for 30 minutes. He had another 30 to get Robin to the batcave and in the immersion tank.

At the speed they were going he should make it.

*~*

“Dick are you sure you’re ok?” Bruce asked for the third time reaching out to steady the teenager as they made their way back up the stairs to the main level of the Bat Cave. “You don’t have to rush yourself.”

Dick glanced over a bit embarrassed at how he was being treated and starts to make a comment but sees a glare from Alfred. “I’m ok, Bruce.. I promise.. just a bit unsteady and I will take it easy.”

“Master Bruce why don’t you help him upstairs and he can put warm pajama’s on.” Alfred offered picking up the now empty hot chocolate pitcher and cup placing it on the trace.

“That’s a good idea.” Bruce reaches out helping his ward up the stairs. He can already tell that Dick was pushing himself to hard but knew better than to push it. “Just lean on me.”

 Dick found himself leaning on his mentor heavily for support not trusting his legs yet. He just knew he wanted warmer clothes and maybe a heated blanket.

What he didn’t expect was how hard it would be to get up the stairs to the batcave then to Wayne Manor, he was happy to use the elevator for part of it.

“Do you need to rest? You don’t need to do so much.” Bruce asked worried. The teen’s movement had gotten stiffer once they reached the manor.

“A-Almost there then I’ll rest.” Dick just grinned weakly as they made their way up the large stair case and into the upstairs hallway. His legs shook and struggled to hold him up, he shivered every few seconds as well.

“You don’t have to push yourself so hard.” Bruce started getting a half eye roll. He sighed inwardly with relief – at least his ward was still able to give a talk back.

“Says the great Batman w-who never rests?”

They went quiet as Bruce helped the teen over to his bed and sat him down. He could tell by the winces and groans of pain that his ward wasn’t doing that well. “Here sit there. I’ll get your pajamas.”

“B-Bruce I’m 16.. I can do this m-myself.” The teen shivered as he sat down on the edge of his bed watching his adopted father go through his drawers.

“I never said you couldn’t but your teeth are still chattering at least let me get them out.” Bruce argued.

Dick sighed looking around his room as he shivered again, “…y-you know it’s not your fault, r-right?”

The other took a deep breath before tossing a pair of worn yellow striped pajamas over his shoulder. He then turned and just smiled sadly.

“You were trying to do what was right and s-save him.. you didn’t know he’d freeze me s-solid.”

“Maybe not but I shouldn’t have pushed so hard… anyway you’re alive. The rest of this we can work through.” Bruce then straightened up and ruffled Dick’s hair before walking out of the bedroom. “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

*~*

“Master Bruce if this doesn’t go away by morning we will need to call for an actual doctor. He’s still shivering and teeth chattering.” Alfred explained worried. He had two more hot water bottles in his arms wrapped in fleece.

“Here, I’ll take them to him.” Bruce headed up the stairs making note the heat was on and getting into Dick’s room, just his single unit was on. “Dick are you awake?”

A few long seconds before he heard a frustrated “yeah..”

“I brought two more hot water bottles.”

“I’m scared Bruce.. I-I’m cold from the inside out,” The teen sat up unsteadily his shoulders shaking. “What if it never stops.. will I be stuck like Freeze?”

“No. You will get through this and be fine.” Bruce reassured him squeezing one the cold hands gently.

Dick just smiled weakly as best he could not feeling the same. He watched as the other lifted the blankets and pushed the hot water bottles under near his feet before covering him back up again. “If you’re a-about to suggest I drink tea-“

“I would never. I’m assuming you’ve had tea?”

“Hot milk. Hot chocolate. Every single flavor of tea in t-this house.” The other groaned pathetically. “And not one helped.”

Bruce sighed, “It’s time to try something else then.”

“Like what?” Dick asked hopefully.

*~*

Alfred made his way down the dark hallway towards the only lit lamp at the end and enters the room. “Pardon me, sir –“

“Shh. He’s sleeping. The shivering finally stopped once body heat got involved.” Bruce looked up. “Well that and two sweatshirts, long johns and sweats.” He uncovered his ward carefully to reveal the teen curled up against him.

“Thank goodness. I was starting to get worried.”

“Me too.” Bruce sighed relieved. “Me too.”

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Seized

An addition to Approval. Do not read this until reading that first. 

Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader // Damian Wayne x Batmom

Summary: What happens when Talia Al Ghul learns that someone has stolen the affections of her past lover and her son?

Word Count: 3,000 [One Shot]

“Delinquents have been detained. I can hear the sirens,” Damian stated calmly in his comms.

“Good work, Robin. You know where to meet me. You have a minute,” Bruce responded as he whipped the bat mobile through Crime Alley to grab his son.

Just as Damian opened the door and hopped in, an alarm went off within the vehicle.

“The Manor,” Damian thought aloud as he read the screens with his father.

Bruce ignored his comment and was calling Alfred immediately.

“Master Wayne,” the butler instantly picked up. “I followed protocol, but they were already gone when I arrived.”

“Y/N…” Bruce immediately asked.

“They took her,” Alfred told him, distress clear in his tone.

Damian’s head whipped to his father to watch his reaction.

But Bruce’s jaw only tightened and he sped the batmobile even faster.

Returning faster to Wayne Manor than ever before, Bruce jumped out of the batmobile and up the secret entrance to get to the main house.

Damian was hot on his heels. He’d already sent an encrypted message to his brothers, informing them of the situation. It was only a matter of time before they were at the manor as well. Though Damian suspected Jason would not come, instead already starting to scour the streets of Gotham for Y/N and her captors.

Alfred was already waiting for them. “Master Wayne, I am so sorry.”

Bruce ignored him and walked to the master bedroom. Y/N would’ve been sleeping when the attack occurred. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had been awake, she had no training in self defense. She was merely an innocent civilian.

“Father,” Damian muttered quietly.

Bruce turned around to find his son ripping a shuriken out of the door frame.

They shared a look, both recognizing the particular shape and color.

“The League…” Damian muttered quietly, saying what they both were thinking.

——————

Y/N was barely awake.

They clearly had drugged her with something to make her more compliant. Everything was foggy and muffled.

Yet they still tied her hands and ankles together, as if her brain could even manage to get her body to move.

But Y/N could feel the effects of the drugs losing their strength, yet keeping their hold on her.

She squinted as she looked around. The air felt different. It was colder and dryer, making Y/N believe that she was no longer in Gotham. Little did she know, she wasn’t even in the country any longer.

“I do not know what he sees in you,” a woman hummed from somewhere in the room.

Y/N blinked as he listened, but her eyes could not adjust to the low lighting and she didn’t even have the strength to turn her head.

“You are weak. Ripped from your own bed without so much as a fight.”

Then she heard the grunts and clashing of metal.

The woman smiled. “Right as expected, my son.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed at ‘my son.’ Then she finally lifted her head and took in her surroundings. There were swords and other weapons stored everywhere, and there was armor hung from the walls.

“Talia?” She whispered.

The woman chuckled. “Weak, but not utterly foolish.”

Then the door of the room was thrown open.

Y/N looked to see Damian in his Robin uniform.

“My son, finally returned," Talia greeted with a smirk.

“Mother.” Then his gaze flickered to Y/N. Very subtly, he was scanning her body to access any possible injuries.

His gaze turned back to his mother. “What is the meaning of this?”

“You have forgotten where you come from, Damian. You are not just the heir to the Wayne family. Before anything else, you are my son and the heir to Ra's al Ghul’s throne.”

“She has nothing to do with this,” Damian said with a gesture to Y/N.

“She has everything to do with this,” Talia snapped. “She has made you weak.”

Damian said nothing.

“She has taken you both from me,” Talia growled.

“Father does not love you,” he growled.

“A small lapse in judgment on his part, but not something that cannot be remedied. Our love gave us you, and I fully believe he will return to me.”

“His heart belongs to someone else. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can give up your fantasy.” Then he hesitated to say the next part. “I never plan on returning to The League of Shadows. I wish to stay with father.”

Talia’s amusement vanished at her sons words.

The next second, she unsheathed her sword. “Perhaps I should just kill her and remind you of your place, my son.”

With that, Damian rushed forward and intercepted Talia’s attack with his own sword.

“Do not touch her,” Damian growled.

Their swords continued to clash as the mother and son fought each other. The fight raged on for what felt like forever. Too evenly matched, but also both too terrible at hiding that neither actually wanted to kill the other.

In the distance, Y/N could hear even more fighting. She could only assume it was Bruce fighting his way to her and his son.

Talia and Damian’s swords locked again, both of their stances shaking from the hold.

“Do you really think you and your father stand a chance against the entire League? Why do you think we lured you all the way here? You are outnumbered.” Talia hissed.

“You think us foolish enough to come alone?” Damian smirked right before there was a boom that shook the entire compound.

Talia’s focus slipped half a second, allowing Damian a window to go on the offense.

He flipped his mother’s sword out of her grip and held his own to her throat.

“Yield,” he growled down to her.

“You truly choose her over your own mother?” The hurt in her eyes was clear.

“You abandoned me, used me as a tool to disrupt father’s life. She taught me that there is more to life than killing and destroying. She loves me and care for me, even when I gave her no reason to do so.”

“And it will be the death of you,” Talia warned.

He glared at her. “Yield!”

But he knew she would never. So he whipped out a dart and blew it to her neck – a sedative.  It knocked her out within seconds.

Waiting until he was sure it had worked, Damian sheathed his sword once again and ran to Y/N’s side.

With a knife, he cut the ropes around her wrists and ankles.

“D-Damian,” her voice was still slurred from the drugs and she was weak. How long had she been here without food or water? “I don’t think I can walk."

Damian helped her to her feet. “Y/N, please try,” he begged as he wrapped her around around his shoulders. He was still just a boy, one that was shorter than her. But he wouldn’t give up that easily.

There was another explosion.

“What’s-What’s happening?” Y/N asked as she dragged her feet and held on tightly.

“That would be Todd, most likely taking his job of distracting to an unnecessary level.”

“You all came?” She asked in shock.

“Of course,” Damian scoffed.

Suddenly an object came flying at them and Y/N cried out in pain.

“No!” Damian bellowed as he looked up to see that another League member was attempting to stop their escape. And with it, they had thrown a shuriken that had landed in Y/N’s side.

She dropped to the ground.

Damian screamed as he unsheathed his sword once again and charged the assassin. It wouldn’t take him long. He knew that every minute spent fighting was a minute Y/N was bleeding out and edging closer to death.

He didn’t hold back like he had with his mother and quickly disarmed the enemy. Then thrusting his sword into a nonfatal area of his body, enough to neutralize him. 

Damian rushed back to Y/N’s side, where a pool of blood was forming from her wound.

He knew it was useless, but he still tried to lift Y/N into his arms to carry her. He cried out in both panic and frustration.

The building had now caught aflame due to Jason’s explosions. Damian would need to call for backup, hoping one of his older brothers could help.

Then a shadow was cast over him.

Damian tensed, believing it to be another attack.

But he looked up to find his father standing before them.

However, Bruce’s gaze was on his unconscious girlfriend.

With the arrival of his father, Damian’s cold and calculating disposition melted.

“She’s hurt,” his voice trembled and tears formed in his eyes. “Help her.”

Damian rarely cried. He cried less than grown men. He was raised that way. It didn’t help that his father was not a great example of healthy emotional expression.

But Bruce knew what his sons tears were for: Damian was frustrated, he felt weak, and he thought he had failed his mission. But most of all, Bruce knew his son was crying for fear of Y/N’s death. Because the boy had grown to love her.

As if there were a world when Bruce wouldn’t give his own life to save Y/N.

Bruce bent down and carefully brought Y/N into his arms.

Damian heard her mutter his father’s name, though still delirious from both the drugs he’s sure his mother pumped into her and the blood loss.

“Red Robin, get the jet to my coordinates immediately,” Bruce instructed through his comms.

Damian wondered how his father could be so calm when the woman he loved was bleeding out in his arms. This wasn’t bat business, this was personal. But Bruce spoke like it was just another night of patrol.

A few minuets later, Damian and Bruce had fought their way through the flames and burning compound.

Tim lowered the platform of the jet.

Damian made sure his father and Y/N got on before he followed. He turned and gave one last look at the burning compound that would no longer exist come morning. He did not fear for his mother’s life. He knew someone from the League would come for her – if she didn’t save herself first.

When he boarded the jet, his father already had Y/N on the surgical table that elevated from the jet floor.

Bruce had taken off his cowl, allowing Damian and his brothers to study his expressions.

Damian had been wrong about his father handling the situation like any other mission. For now he could see the terror and worry in his father’s eyes, despite him trying to control his emotions.

Damian looked to Jason, who still had his Red Hood helmet on.

“My grandfather?” He asked his brother.

“Escaped,” Jason muttered.  

Damian stepped forward to help Bruce with Y/N’s injuries.

“She’ll be OK,” he muttered to his father.

All of them had high-level medical training to know.

Thankfully the assassin’s aim was not great and didn’t land in lethal place on Y/N’s body. But she still lost a lot of blood and would need many stitches.

All the brother’s shared a look when Bruce ignored the statement. 

———

Y/N woke up to someone gripping her hand. She recognized from the smell and the feel of the bedding that she was in Bruce’s bed at the manor.

She winced as she opened her eyes to find Bruce was the one holding her hand as he sat in a chair only inches away from the side of the bed.

“Hi,” she whispered to him with a sad smile.

“Hi,” he said back with a smirk.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days.”

Then Y/N looked past Bruce to realize there was someone else in the room.

Damian passed out on the velvet chaise that was pushed against the windows.

“He hasn’t left your side,” Bruce told her. “Dick had to convince him just to take a shower for 5 minutes when we first got back.”

Y/N’s heart melted at the revelation.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

The sound of Bruce’s voice as he said it made Y/N’s gaze snap back to him. Had it shook? Or was she imagining it?

Y/N squeezed his hand that was still wrapped around hers. 

“I know,” she told him with a sympathetic look.

He hid it well, but Y/N knew Bruce. And she knew that her being kidnapped from his own home probably drove him mad with guilt. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already designed an entirely new security system to prevent something like that ever happening again.

Bruce took in a shaky breath and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

He wanted to say that he always feared her being with him would put her in danger like this. 

He wanted to say that maybe she should stay away from him. 

He wanted to say that him and the kids didn’t deserve her. 

He wanted to say that the only reason this happened is because Talia hated that she loved her son better than she ever did.

But Bruce had never been good at saying how he actually felt – or even acknowledging he had any feelings at all.

So Y/N brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Bruce, I know,” she said once again.

“I won’t let it happen again. I promise you,” he told her evenly.

“Bruce, I knew what I signed up for when you told me you were Batman. If I wasn’t willing to face the reality of it, I wouldn’t have stayed.”

“No one would’ve blamed you if you hadn’t.”

There was a knock at the door and then it opened a second later.

Damian jumped awake at the sound. But then he quickly brought his attention to Y/N. “You’re awake.”

But everyone’s attention was on Dick, who was standing at the open doorway.

“Hey,” he greeted Y/N, surprised to see that she was awake. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Tired. But I’ll be alright.”

He seemed to relax from her answer.

Then he winced when he looked at Bruce. “They put the signal up.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

He was about to open his mouth to ask them to handle it, not wanting to leave Y/N alone now that she had woken up.

“Go, Bruce. I’ll be OK.” Y/N told him, reading his mind.

“I think it’s the Joker,” Dick added with a serious frown.

“Bruce, go.” Y/N repeated.

And he saw the sincerity in her eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her gently, deciding he didn’t care if his two sons were witnesses to the intimacy.

Then Bruce kissed her forward. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Alfred will be here if you need anything. Do not hesitate to call.”

Y/N nodded.

Bruce stood up and acknowledged Damian and Dick. “Let’s go.”

Once they were ways down the hall, Bruce heard Damian stop.

“Father?”

Bruce and Dick both turned to face Damian.

“I wish to stay with Y/N.”

Bruce and Dick shared a look, and then Dick decided to give the two a moment alone and muttered something about waiting in the cave.

Bruce walked back to his youngest son.

Damian’s gaze was glued on the floor. “Mother truly would’ve killed her?”

Bruce sighed. “Most likely, yes.” He saw no point in lying to his son.

“Because she knows that you and I love her?”

“Yes.”

Damian was quiet for a moment. But Bruce knew he had more to say.

“I used to think I had to earn it.”

Bruce frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Mother’s love. I had to earn it. Win in combat. Successfully execute a target. Outsmart a puzzle or challenge.” Damian looked up at his father with a broken expression. “Her love always came with a price.”

Bruce kneeled down to his son.

The boy shook his head. “But Y/N made me realize that I don’t have to earn anyone’s love. I don’t have to prove that I’m worthy of it.” He bit his lip. “She’s not my father or my brother. She didn’t have to love me. But she does…even when I did nothing to earn it.”

“Everyone is deserving of love, Damian.” Bruce gripped his son’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for not teaching you that myself.”

Damian nodded. “So, may I please stay with her tonight? I don’t want her to be alone.” But then he quickly corrected himself. “Unless of course, you require my assistance, father.”

Bruce smirked at him. “I think we will manage, Damian.” Then he squeezed his shoulder. “Look after her for me, alright?”

Damian relaxed and quickly nodded his head. “Of course, father.”

When Bruce returned hours later, Damian was cuddled next to Y/N in the bed. But clearly laying in a position to be mindful of her injuries. Both were fast asleep. The bright television was the only thing lighting the room, as it played a Pixar movie.

Bruce couldn’t help but grin at the sight.

“I got him,” Dick whispered to him before stepping into the room and carefully lifting the boy in his arms, clearing the space in the bed for Bruce to join Y/N.

Bruce moved about the room as he changed into cotton shorts and went without a shirt.

Y/N woke slightly as he joined her in bed.

“Everything OK?” She whispered sleepily.

“Everything’s fine. Did Damian keep you company?”

Y/N smiled and shifted her body so she was cuddle into him. “Yes…my little protector.”

Bruce smiled at that. “Don’t let him hear the ‘little’ part…”

She chuckled. “Good call.” 

And then she was fast asleep once again.

-----------------------

Please, please, please let me know what you think! 

[liquid-luck-00]

Where There Is Change

Identities

@maribat-bdbwm

First *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Once the crashes died down, Alfred returned with a pet carrier and a smug Jason.

"Not to say this revelation isn't important, but in this moment it is not." She spoke as she stood up. "What is urgent now is to return Damian to his original state. Do you know who was the person who caused the transformation?" She looked up at Dick, because of the call she heard he may have been there when it happened.

She specifically looked at Dick, directing her question. He on the other hand opened and closed his mouth, debating on how much he could tell her.

"I don’t know who they were, but I can remember some pieces of their appearance if that helps any." He started to speak. "One was definitely a girl, ashy blonde, brown curly hair and was wearing equestrian riding clothes in browns and white. And I’m sure she had ears and a tail. The other I can’t tell if they were male or female, so they wore dark grey shorts, black stockings, and an orange crop top. Their arms were stained black to their elbows, the most unsettling purple eyes. Ears and nine tails the same orange as their hair."

"So, in other words a horse girl and a human nine tailed fox. Who turned your, our brother, into a black panther cub." She repeated aloud. It’s not that it sounded impossible, the thing is it sounded familiar. Not just vaguely, but headache inducing familiar, unfortunately in more ways than one.

---

*Flash Back*

A silvery blue portal opened and out stepped a human Trixx and Kaalki.

"When did you two leave?" Tikki flew up to greet them.

She wasn’t paying them much attention. She noticed that they changed back and all three went back to the miracle box. Yet she did not think it was important to ask them on their exploits.

*End*

---

She stayed silent, lifting her hand, thumb under her chin, index on her lower lip. She was thinking. She closed her eyes and took a breath.

Trixx.

This was Trixx’s magic. Meaning that it could be reversed, but they would need to be the one to do it.

She opened her eyes. Her voice was level, but her voice held authority. "Trixx." Was all she said.

---

Marinette stood so still he could have confused her for a statue. Then her eyes snapped open, her blue eyes almost glowing.

Then she spoke. Dick couldn’t believe her voice, it was eerily level, but held such authority that he stood straight. "Trixx."

A beat passed and nothing happened. Then she repeated the same word.

"Trixx." This time the smallest sliver of anger or was it disappointment lingered on the word. Although he knows she isn’t talking to him, her disappointment weighs on him.

Then an orange ball of light appeared in the center of their little circle. "I’m sorry. I didn’t think that the angry, stabby, bird vigilante was going to be your brother." It then turned around and saw him. "Oh, you are the blue bird." It flew around his head. "Oh, and this now makes a lot more sense. Did you realize that there was a peacock in this house." The mini little fox flew over to Alfred.

"Yes, I realized that Trixx." Marinette answered. "But you being distracted will not distract me."

"But it’s practically fate." The fox, Trixx, exclaimed while flying circles around Alfred’s head.

"Him not realizing you cursed Damian, is what should be considered luck."

"But birds don’t usually turn on foxes."

"Miss Marinette, how is it you have a kwamii with you?"

"Not just one." The fox piped up before Marinette could open her mouth.

"Trixx."

"Sorry I’ll go back."

"Not until you turn him back."

"But Mariiiiii." The fox pleaded. "Fine." They relented. "It isn’t permanent and will completely fade in 72…60 hours."

"Thank you."

"Miss Marinette, do you have multiple kwamii on your person?" Alfred asked her.

She panned for a moment; Dick assumed she was thinking of her response. "Robin." She pointed at Damian still in the carrier. "Nightwing." She pointed at him. "You fit as Red Hood making you Red Robin." She pointed between Jason and Tim respectively. "That would make you Batman himself." She turned to Bruce. "Am I correct Peacock?" She turned to Alfred.

"You are a ladybug." Alfred answered her, but Dick was just confused with this girl.

"I am also the Guardian, not just a ladybug." She returned.

"Okay, wait." He had had to interject. "You just assumed who we were because of a flying fox, you are calling Alfred a Peacock and he is calling you a ladybug. Respectively what does that mean."

"Was I wrong?" She asked in a deadly calm, tilting her head, the only indication of her confusion.

"You are correct, Ladybug." Alfred confirmed, causing everyone to turn to him wondering if he's lost his mind.

She nodded and then once again with resolution. "He calls me ladybug because I am the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous, as he is the designated holder for the Miraculous of the Peacock."

"So how does that play into you figuring us out." Was asked by Tim seemingly awake now.

"That was made by a combination of what Trixx said, my basic knowledge of heroes outside of Paris, and my personal ability to recognize people as akumas." She shrugged.

"That's the second time you've mentioned akuma, Marinette." Her father space up. "You know more than you let on."

She chuckled at this. "Of course, I do. I am Lady Scarlet, the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous, and heroine of Paris."

"Shit! She didn't need your help to be a hero B." Jason screamed.

"That alone explains so much more than you believe." Bruce sighed walking out of the room, Tim and Alfred following him, Jay following not soon after.

He would have followed, he was just out of the door, if he didn't stop when she spoke.

"Are you going to behave?" He backtracked a few steps and watched her, he leaned against the door frame, in full view.

She held up a single finger then knocked on the air. Held up two fingers then tapped her index and middle finger to her thumb. It took him a moment to recognize the ASL, but Damian picked up on it quickly.

He meowed once and she went and released in from the carrier. Who then jumped on her bed, watching her. His gaze turned to him, and he blinked slowly, before going back to watch Marinette.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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[northoftheroad]

Up to date with the trends, if you don’t mind!

As opposed to some people, I'm not of the opinion that Dick Grayson is a fashion disaster. I don't imagine I will convince anyone who loves to portray him as the eternal looser... But the thing with fashion is that a lot of it quickly gets dated. Since artists have drawn Dick in contemporary style for decades, it's bound to happen that some outfits get past their best before date.

If we're to put the blame where it belongs, it has to be Greg Land, who drew Dick in a multicoloured polka dot shirt in Nightwing vol 1 # 2. That's the outfit most people reference when they claim that Dick dresses outlandishly. However, in the 90s, polka dot shirts (and long hair on men) were trendy – which is something that we tend to forget some decades later, when another era of fashion surrounds us.

The original Nightwing suit from 1984 also gets a fair amount of flak. Certain artists, like Jim Aparo, drew the collar ridiculously high, unlike how it looked with George Pérez’ art. But on the whole, it's not in a completely different style from other superhero suits that were introduced in the 70s and 80s. High collars and deep v-necks were popular. 

Tales of the Teen Titans # 44, Batman vol 1 # 441.

Tyroc (1976); Black Lightning (1977); Dazzler (1980); Jericho (1984).

Gladiator (1977), Black Cat (1979), Atari Force (1982), Mockingbird (1980), Booster Gold (1986).

Fashion at the time was about crossovers and breaking rules, and using fabrics such as rubber and vinyl. And disco...  Here are some pictures from the 70s and 80s, to remind ourselves what it looked like at the time.

I guess some people might point the finger at the original Robin suit, too? But, seriously, it's a 1940s child superhero costume, designed at a time when the printing process favoured bright primary colours. (Besides, in a fair number of versions, Bruce is the one who designed the Robin suit. Now, if we want to talk ridiculous – take a look at Bob Kane's original sketch of the Bat-Man.)

Without further ado. Let's have a look at some of Dick's outfits over the years, and see what was considered stylish at the time, shall we. 

Dick in civilan garbs in the 1940s and 1950s. The boy's fashion at the time included knitted pullovers and sweaters which were also worn over shirt and tie. Bright solid or patterned sportcoats were worn with dress-shirt and necktie or bowtie. (Knickers, that is short trousers, were, by the way, children's fashion in the 1940s.)

Pictures are fashion illustrations from the 40s and 50s and from Batman # 13 (1942). Star Spangled Comics # 65 (1947), # 75 (1947), # 98 (1949), # 111 (1950).

College teenager Dick in the 1970s dressed in sweaters, vests, long collared shirts. His hair was side-parted. And, you guessed it – vests, long collared shirts and turtleneck sweaters were essential fashion items of the 1970s. Dick-pics from: Batman # 248 (1973). Batman Family # 8 (1976). Detective Comics # 483 (1979). Detective Comics  # 495 (1980).

Dick in a green three piece suit in New Teen Titans Vol 1 # 26 (1982). Picture in Sears Fashion Catalogue 1981. 1980s vintage tweed suit.

Leather jacket, t-shirts and sweaters and jeans were trendy in the 1980s. In Tales of the teen titans 43 (1984), Dick wears jeans and an expensive leather jacket.

"That" outfit in Nightwing vol 1 # 2 (1995). "Seinfeld" from 1991.

Overalls were huge in the 1990s, even when you weren't custom building your own car. Nightwing vol 2 # 16 (1998), and fashion photos from the 1990s.  

In the early 2000s, casual clothing was a big trend. Rugby shirts was a common look, and the leather jacket was still popular. Batman: Gotham Knights # 21 (2001), # 45 (2003), Nightwing vol 2 # 49 (2000), #77 (2003), # 80 (2003).

In the mid-2000s, some trendy things were: Casual, fitted shirt. Casual blazer. Cardigan. V-neck t-shirt. Trucker hat. Tank top. Nightwing vol 2 # 133 (2007), # 141 and # 144 (2008). Fashion photos from 2008, design Diesel, Tony Melillo.

In The New 52 and Rebirth, Dick has mostly dressed casually (unless it's for a funeral, of course). Jeans, t-shirts, shirt without tie, sweaters, hoodie, parka, blazer or leather jacket. Often layer on layer - sweater over shirt, shirt on top of t-shirt...  The 2010s wasn't long ago, and it's not easy to sort through fashion shows and micro-trends and see a bigger picture just yet... But a few of the things that were trendy at least at some time during the 2010s were: the colour grey; one-button suits and blazers; striped sweater; checkered shirt; fitted leather jackets; parka; pastel colours; angular v-neck.  

Nightwing vol 3 # 5 (2012), # 6 (2012), # 10 (2012), # 17 (2013),  # 27 (2014). Nightwing vol 4 # 10 (2017), # 15 (2017). Assorted fashion photos from 2012–2017.  

Today it's 2020, and when it comes to men's hairstyles, crew cut is popular. Nightwing vol 4 # 63, and photo from TheTrendSpotter's post 40 Best Short Hairstyles for Men in 2020.

And hey, superhero apparel were on the catwalk in the 2010s, too. How more fashion forward can Dick Grayson become...? Misel Saban, June 27, 2014 (Batman) and Sarah Dos Santos, December 16, 2013 (Superman); Kyle Towers, February 2, 2013 (Spiderman).

However, I don't see Dick (written) as interested in keeping up with the fashion. But he did live his first years in a small trailer. And since then, he's been accustomed to a life where you never know when your home is going to be obliterated, or your foster father will kick you out. Or when you have to rush away to follow a lead in another city or save the world somewhere. Or the next time you'll be shot and forget that you have a flat to live in... He’s bound to have learned not to have an excessive amount of clothes. 

When he does need to buy something, because his last outfit went up in smoke or something, he'll simply pick from what's in the front inside the shops. Hence, he'll often be dressed up-to-date. New Titans # 76, New Titans # 86, Nightwing vol 2 # 89, Nightwing vol 2 # 20, Nigtwing vol 3 # 19, Nightwing vol 4 # 50 , Robin Year One # 3.

Top pictures from: Batman # 237 (1971), New Teen Titans # 16 (1982), Nightwing vol 2 # 129 (2007), Nightwing vol 4 # 10 (2016).

[capricorn-stark]

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn 

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read! 

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of. 

Ever. 

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave. 

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets. 

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you. 

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you. 

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”  

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.” 

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere. 

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.” 

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?” 

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.” 

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.” 

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.” 

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand. 

“And what about it?” 

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama. 

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.” 

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts. 

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.” 

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?” 

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching. 

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little. 

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.” 

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps. 

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea. 

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you. 

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.” 

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually. 

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing. 

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung. 

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter 6: Let’s Play a Game (Overprotection)

Prev

AO3

Marinette ended up not staying for dinner. She talked to Bruce for a little bit, but he had to leave for some WE emergency and Marinette wasn’t really up to bonding with the boys- her brothers- yet. But that was fine. It wasn’t like she was desperate to get to know the man and wouldn’t be able to after this trip because she had to stay in Paris because of Hawkmoth. No, she wasn’t upset. Not at all. It didn’t hurt her feelings. Nope.

---

Walking into Madame Soleil's Wax Museum with Adrien by her side, Marinette is hit with a major wave of deja vu. And not a good deja vu. No, the memories of the last time she was in a wax museum with Adrien were awful, humiliating and- feeling a hand wrap around hers pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. Glancing down, Marinette tries (and fails) to hide her grin. Adrien is holding her hand. Adrien is holding her hand!

“Hey Marinette!” A familiar voice calls, a hand squeezing her shoulder, making Marinette squeal and whirl around.

“Dick? What are you doing here?” She asks, frowning at the boy- her brother- as he stands there with a huge smile.

“Well I heard that a new wax figure is being revealed today, and I thought I might come and see it.” He says with a nonchalant shrug.

“Really? Who?” Adrien asks. Dick’s smile twitches slightly as he glances at Marinette, making her frown. Was he seriously about to play the overprotective big brother card? Really?

“Jagged Stone.” Dick finally says, glancing at their entwined hands. Marinette tries hard not to roll her eyes. Come on, her crush is finally holding her hand and her brother (who she’s known for a day!) is seriously trying to ruin that for her?

“Oh cool! Do you think he’ll come to Gotham to see it, Mari?” Adrien asks.

“I think he’s definitely scheduled to make an appearance in Gotham in the next couple days. He’s picking up his new suit in person.” She whispers, grinning at the idea of seeing her “Uncle” in person again. He’d been touring for several months and she hadn’t been able to see him for awhile, just the occasional video call.

“So! What figures did you guys want to check out first?” Dick asks, wedging himself between the two and forcing Adrien to drop her hand. Glaring at her brother, Marinette scoffs when Dick just smiles innocently.

“The hall of heroes and villains sounds cool.” Adrien suggests, looking around Dick to see Marinette.

“Hmm. Okay, but if the Nightwing figure is in his disco costume, I reserve the right to melt the statue.” She says, frowning at the choked noise Dick makes. “Are you okay?” She adds.

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah I’m fine. What’s 1so bad about that costume?” He asks, a hurt expression on his face.

“Have you even seen it? The only worse costume is Riddler’s.” Marinette says, adding a shudder for dramatic effect. Walking past the local celebrities room and the pop stars room, Marinette’s eyes widen as their small group walks into the hall of heroes and villains. Walking away from Dick and Adrien, she’s almost instantly drawn to the Batman figure. She reads the little plaque about the artist and frowns, turning to Dick who had moved to stand next to her.

“I thought it’d be taller.” She says, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion when Dick starts choking on air, gasping for breath as broken chuckles flood out of him. “Ookay then.” She mutters, turning and walking back towards the villains. Nightwing was, luckily, depicted in his most recent costume. As was Robin. Which meant the only real fashion tragedy (besides the god awful helmet Red Hood wore) was the Riddler. Pulling her sketchbook out, Marinette circles the wax figure, occasionally making notes and sketching out slight adjustments to the man’s costume.

“His costume might be terrible, but it’s still better than half of the akumas.” Adrien whispers, leaning over her shoulder. Marinette looks up at him, eyes wide as her face heats up with a blush.

“I, uh, um, yes. Yeah.” She says, trying not to wince at her lack of speaking skills. “I mean, at least we can rule out any fashion designer in Paris as Hawkmoth. Because if Hawkmoth was a designer, that’d almost be a bigger crime.” She adds, smiling as Adrien laughs.

“Good to know you’re not moonlighting as Hawkmoth, m’lady.” He says with a mock bow. Marinette snorts, then covers her mouth, embarrassment rushing over her. Adrien just shakes his head, wrapping an arm over her shoulders.

“In case you forgot, we’ve definitely seen each other at our most embarrassing.” He says, making her groan.

“Oh god, no. I tied us up with my yoyo!” She moans, turning and burying her face into his chest so she doesn’t have to look at him anymore. Her face heats up more when she feels him chuckle and wrap his arms around her.

“I’ve always thought that was paw-sitively adorable.” He says, laughing when she groans again. She pulls away slightly, looking up at him with a timid smile. He smiles back, starts to lean forward and-

“Hey guys! I heard they’re about to unveil the Jagged Stone figure. Come on, let’s go! Don’t wanna miss it.” Dick says, grabbing each of their hands and pulling them towards the exist (and successfully separating them again). Marinette tries not to glare at Dick. She’s about to have one less brother.

---

Dick Grayson wasn’t used to having a little sister that he could protect. Sure, he had a little sister. Cas was awesome, but she could also kick his ass without breaking a sweat. No, he’d never had a little sister to protect. Someone he could watch out for and support. But now….now he has Marinette. And he’ll be damned if he lets some little punk take advantage of his little sister. Ignoring Marinette’s glare, he positions himself right between her and...the boy. He’d need to ask Timmy to do a background check on the kid later. Especially if he thought he was good enough for Marinette.

“So are you guys big Jagged fans?” He asks, trying to pull the two back into a conversation. He narrows his eyes at the smile the kid gives Marinette. It’s too...adoring. Too much. She’s only...what, fourteen? Much too young to date. Especially this kid.

“Mari’s a bit of a fan, I think. But, personally, I much prefer Jagged’s designer.” He says, and Dick turns to him, missing the way Marinette’s face turns bright red.

“Are you talking about MDC? I love them! Their work is amazing! And Jagged Stone says that he’ll never have another designer. I heard that there’s a possibility of them opening their commissions again. God, I hope they do. I’d do anything for something made by MDC.” Dick rambles with a wide smile, deciding to ignore the kid for a minute in order to ramble about his favorite designer. As the group walks into the pop star room, Dick steps back and glares at the kid. He’d stepped just behind Dick and was apparently trying to hold Marinette’s hand again. Not on his watch. No siree. No one’s gonna hurt his little sister.

---

Bruce sighs, running his hands through his hair. He’d been checking the street cameras in Paris, trying to figure out what time Ladybug and Chat Noir patrol so that he can set up a meeting. Try and offer help, or maybe even offer to take control of the situation. Anything to get rid of Hawkmoth. But instead, it was like the heroes didn’t exist. He’d read reports of the heroes patrolling before, so why were they so quiet this week? The only akuma from the past couple days wasn’t even taken care of by both of them. Ladybug did it alone, and seemed worse for the wear when she came out of the battle. Where was Chat Noir? And why did it seem as though they had gone into hiding?

---

Marinette was five seconds away from committing her first murder. Okay, probably her only murder, unless her other brothers decide to be as involved in her love life as Dick is. Because Dick won’t have the chance to be a problem for much longer. Because Marinette was honestly going to kill him. Right as she turned to finally yell at him, and tell him to knock it off, the lights flickered. She pauses her tirade, glancing to gauge Dick’s reaction to see if this is normal. And if his worried glances back at her are anything to go by, this is not normal.

“Let’s play a game! Solve my riddles and you all can leave freely, but make a mistake and someone will pay greatly! Take one out and scratch my head, I am now black but once was red. What am I?” A man’s voice asks, Marinette frowning as the Riddler walks in, a wide smile on his face. Ten goons walk in behind him, all of them carrying guns. She was used to the akuma attacks almost every day, but didn’t Gotham’s rogues have anything better to do than attack every place her class went? With guns? Come on. Riddler smirks and points at Adrien with his cane.

“A match.” She blurts out, ignoring Dick frantically shaking his head. If nothing else, she should be able to work with Adrien to get everyone out. But she knew his style. And riddles weren’t really his thing.

“Oh goody. We have a volunteer. Tell me, what has to be broken before you can use it?” Riddler asks, stalking towards her. Thinking for a second, Marinette tries to suppress a smile.

“An egg.” She says. Riddler narrows his eyes.

“I have 13 hearts, but no lungs or stomach. What am I?” He asks, Marinette frowns, running through possible answers in her head.

“A deck of cards.” She finally says.

“Buzzy, come over here and hold onto our friend.” Riddler says, gesturing to one of the goons. The man comes over and grabs Marinette’s arm roughly, she winces. That’ll definitely bruise.

“I answered your riddles.” Marinette says, deciding that now's as good a time as any to start distracting the man.

“And how did you answer them so quickly?” He asks, the frustration clear on his face.

“What do you mean? Were they supposed to be hard?” Marinette taunts, ignoring the choked sound Dick makes behind her. She knew what she was doing. She did. She had to.

“Why you-” Riddler starts, stepping forward and pulling his hand back as if to hit her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Marinette waits for the slap. The slap never comes. Opening her eyes, Marinette’s jaw drops when she sees the Riddler’s fist held tightly in Dick’s hand.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” He says lowly, a dark look on his face. Well that was unexpected. Riddler opens his mouth, probably to start spouting more riddles or other nonsense, when the goons blocking the exits drop. Noticing Red Robin and Red Hood picking off the other goons, Marinette throws her elbow back into the gut of the goon holding her. Not waiting for him to recover, Marinette stomps his foot and twists out of his grip. Grabbing his arm, Marinette manages to yank the man off balance and toss him to the ground. A hand on her shoulder makes her jump back and prepare to hit the person.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay ma’am.” The voice attached to the hand says. Marinette whirls around, ready to tell off the person, but immediately stops when she sees Red Robin.

“Sorry!” She yelps, jumping away from him. And she was too. She was determined to hit the person who grabbed her shoulder, so locked into battle mode, but she had managed to stop herself. Glancing around the room, Marinette notices Dick talking to Red Hood, his usual smile back on his face. That’s good. That’s normal, that’s right. The sudden blaring of the akuma alarm makes Marinette want to scream in frustration. Really, right now? It’s definitely already dark in Paris which means- Chat Noir. Ignoring everyone else, Marinette runs over to Adrien and grabs his hand.

“Akuma?” He asks, his voice low. She nods and tugs him towards the bathrooms, unaware of the eyes following them out.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

[imagine-nation20]

Sunshine and The Art of Picking Your Battles

Summary: “I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.”

Requested By: Anon

Request: “I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.” for Jason Todd (with the reader being kidnapped by any villain you want)

A/N: Jason Todd will forever and always be the best robin and I will not take criticism. Also I love writing established relationship with superheroes where one doesn’t know the other is a vigilante, so enjoy some reader having no sense of self preservation, and Jason outing himself as the red hood.

~~~

You hated Gotham. Or rather, you hated the criminal underbelly of Gotham, which wasn’t so much an underbelly as it was a very obvious toupee on the top of the head of the city. Gotham was built on crime, and it would probably crumble under the weight of crime. Most people who lived there were either involved in crime, or involved in the vigilante justice served by the masked crusaders.

Running a bar in Gotham was bad, running a bar in the crummy part of Gotham was worse. That is, if you could claim any part of Gotham wasn’t crummy.

Still, it was a better job than some of the other options. Who could blame the owner of the place appointing you manager and fucking off to his apartment in the only part of Gotham that could afford working deadbolts.

So it was no wonder that you got jumped on your way home after a particularly grueling shift.

Three men dressed in suits too nice for the area. It was pretty much common sense to learn some form of self defense if you were going to live in a city like Gotham, however, three against one wasn’t exactly fair odds.

They tied your wrists, dropped a bag over your head, and then hit you with something heavy and blunt that was probably going to leave permanent damage.

Waking up was a headache, to say the least. Your head pounded like a drum, the blood rushing through your ears sounding like the waves against the harbor. Or maybe that really was the harbor.

It didn’t really matter, because you had a bigger problem to worry about than whether or not the ‘whooshing’ in your ear was blood or water. 

A man, dressed in an expensive suit, stood a few feet away. His head was covered in the dark, slightly shiny material of a mask, shaped like a skull. Beady eyes peered through, staring you down.

“So, what is a bartender like yourself doing associating with the Red Hood?” Roman Sionis was easily recognizable, and his identity was not a secret to the citizens of the city. He seemed almost proud to lord the fact that everyone knew who he was, but couldn’t put him away for anything tangible.

Unless of course that person was Batman or one of his many disciples.

“What the fuck are you on about?” You slurred. You cursed yourself internally for your inability to keep your mouth shut. Most of the time you were okay, but you were tired, and in pain, and this was the third time this week you had been assaulted, so you were over it. Criminals and crime lords were a dime a dozen, and despite his very intimidating reputation, you could not care less about Black Mask.

He laughed, and it almost sounded genuine, “I’m talking about the fact that I have on good word that Red Hood has been in your shitty little bar almost every night for the past week.”

You were going to kill Kallista.

You avoided associating with vigilantes, but your coworker, and the woman who worked most night to day shifts, was known for giving vigilantes free drinks when they dropped in. Now, it seemed you had been mistaken for her. Serves you right for having the audacity to pick up her shift when she was sick.

You had seen a few of them drop in on your way out, but never Red Hood. She probably told him not to catch you, since you would have reemed her for it. Red Hood wasn’t a criminal, but he was known for incurring their wrath like no one else, and that usually ended up in situations like this.

Yes, Kallista was going to die… so long as you made it out of this.

“Listen pal,” you started, glancing around the room for a way out. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You weren’t a bad friend, and you certainly weren’t going to sick Roman Sionis on your friend. Even if she did get you in this situation in the first place.

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” He yelled, taking quick steps towards you. You winced back, hearing the flick of a switchblade, and feeling the cold press against your cheek.

“Listen, if I was associating with the Red Hood, I would have told you by now.”

“For some reason, I just don’t believe you.”

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in,” A voice echoed through the warehouse. From above, you could see the familiar brown leather jacket, and bright red helmet of the Red Hood. He was reclined against a support beam, legs dangling off the one he was sitting on. “I’m going to be honest with you, I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.”

Hopping down from the beam, he landed, knees bent, feet light. It was almost impressive, the way he could silently drop. If you weren’t so tired, you might have taken the time to marvel at the way his pants bunched and stretched. Kallista was right after all, there was a certain appeal to the vigilantes in uniform.

Roman shifted around you, knife going to your neck. You took in a sharp breath, glaring at the Red Hood as he faltered in his pace.

“Take another step and she dies,”

“I was gonna say thanks for coming, Hood,” You glared, “but you’ve kinda made the situation worse.”

You could almost see the tick of annoyance through the mask. His fists clenching slightly, he grumbled, “This is the thanks I get?”

“I’ll thank you when I don’t have a knife to my jugular.”

Black Mask tightened his grip on you, knife digging in a slight bit. You didn’t think it had pierced skin yet, but you couldn’t be sure. 

The next few seconds seemed to go by in an instant. The shattering of glass, the whizzing of something through the air, the knife nicked your neck, then was gone, and so was the grip of Roman Sionis.

Red Hood moved towards you, gloved hands untying the ropes that kept you bound to the chair. You looked to the side, seeing Black Mask passed out on the ground, a strange arrow sticking to the outside of his helmet. You could have sworn you saw little strings of electricity still moving over the black material.

The masked vigilante hoisted you from the chair, his arms slipping behind your back and beneath your knees.

“Seriously?” You deadpanned, “I can walk, you know. My legs aren’t broken.”

It didn’t seem like he cared, as he scoffed, “I still haven’t heard a thank you.”

“I didn’t think heroes were so egotistical.”

“Not really a hero, sunshine,” you could hear the smile in his voice, even through the strange effect his helmet gave off. You went stiff at the name.

Jason faltered mid step, and you knew you had him. Spewing a flurry of curses, you wriggled out of his hold and onto the gravel below. The rocks bit into your skin, and Jason moved to crouch and help, but you were already up and slapping at his arm.

“You son of a bitch, Jason,” you whisper shouted, “you’re so stupid. How long have you been the- no, I don’t want to know.”

“Sunshine-”

“Don’t you sunshine me, Todd,” you growled, “You didn’t think to tell me you were a fucking vigilante? And moreover, you were getting free drinks from my coworker while she ranted to me about your thighs?”

“What?” Jason asked, shaking his head. “No, no, I wasn’t… I was looking out for you! I was trying to make sure you got home safe! What about my thighs?”

You paused, mouth hanging open. You hadn’t known Jason for very long. He had come in during one of your shifts with a busted lip and a dazzling smile, and left with your number and the promise of a date. You should have guessed back then, if you were being honest, but you believed him when he said he had gotten jumped. Maybe he had been telling the truth, just not the whole truth.

Stalling so that you didn’t give in to his guilty look so easily, you glanced around. So it had been the ocean you were hearing. You turned back around, trying and failing to hold the vicious glare.

“You better have a ride back to my apartment, cause we are about to have a long talk about impulse control, honesty, and the art of picking battles.”

“You sound like my dad.”

Silence.

“OH MY GOD IS BRUCE WAYNE-”