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#The Duke's Bastard is a Mob Boss
cryptid-jack · 5 months
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Hastur was surprised when he woke up in the body of a soldier on the front lines of the first world war, but despite landing in a world with no magic- he didn't just survive, he thrived. Unfortunately, his new definition of 'thriving' meant starting his own gang and a string of illegal speakeasies in prohibition era America that lead him to an inevitably messy end fourteen years later.
Just when Hastur thought it was all over he woke up in his own world, back in his own body, neck deep in a mess made by the guy whose life he'd been living on Earth. Things have changed since he was last home but Hastur has returned with new skills and technical knowledge that could shake his world to its foundations...assuming a certain hot, jaded detective doesn't arrest him first.
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mermaidsirennikita · 4 months
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I've recently read a book where the point was to have an heir and the hero is becoming more and more obssesed with the heroine and won't admitted bc IM DOING THIS FOR THE SAKE OF HAVING AND HEIR AND NOTHING MORE lol, do yoi have more books like that to recommend?
I appreciated the reviews you do ☺️ more than usual people get waaaay to serious about a book and it gets tiring to read their thoughts after a while
Hi! Thank you lol, I think people need to read romance novels for fun and it's a little irritating for me when they get like... guilty? About liking what they like. I think romance novels can definitely be emotionally deep and compelling, but the main point is fun.
Soooo I think some breeding kink or breeding kink adjacent vibes will give you these vibes!
Historical:
The Duchess in His Bed by Lorraine Heath--In this one, the heroine is the one that propositions the hero to put a baby in her because she needs a baby in order to secure her safety right after her husband dies. She spends a good chunk of the book showing him the kind of life his baby will have because he was a bastard and is worried about the kid having a good home, etc. But once they do get to babymaking, it's like feeeelings.
Waking Up with the Duke by Lorraine Heath--This is the ideal book for this setup, except a) they're making an heir on behalf of her husband, who's impotent after a carriage accident and pressures the hero to get his wife pregnant b) the hero isn't TOTALLY detached, even though he puts on a good front, because he has carried a torch for the heroine. However, the babymaking process is when he REALLY starts falling and it's delicious and one of my favorite books of all time. AINSLEY!!!!
Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas--These two are married, and had feelings, but he left her the day after the wedding and they've been separated for like a decade. She wants a divorce so she can marry her lover, and he's like "fine"--if you give me an heir first. So it's really like... a reawakening via babymaking. I shall always remember the first sex scene when he like, bends her over a desk to KEEP IT PROFESH.
Lord of Darkness by Elizabeth Hoyt--This is the one where they got married because she was pregnant with another guy's baby and and the guy died before they could marry. Then she lost the baby and they separated without consummating the marriage. A few years later, she returns to town like "I want a baby, put it in me" and they start having sex... During which he gets FEELINGS.
The Duchess Deal by Tessa Dare--The hero is a super scarred duke whose fiancee leaves him right before the wedding, and the heroine is the seamstress who made the wedding dress and shows up on his doorstep wearing it all "PAY UP". He realizes he has a ready-made bride, and he just needs an heir, so... they've got a deal. Obvi, he begins falling for her as they start working on the baby.
The Duke I Tempted by Scarlet Peckham--This is another "duke marries local woman for an heir" book, with the twist that his secret is... He's sexually submissive and likes to be dominated and whipped during sex.
Contemporary(ish):
Lush Money by Angelina M. Lopez--This is the crazy one wherein the heroine is like, a billionaire, the hero is the prince of a tiny nation with a genius IQ. She wants a smart royal baby, so she offers to bail out his nation financially if he marries her and gets her pregnant. He actually hates her, but he's a man of his word, so he starts workin' on it. Workin' REAL hard.
Mafia Virgin by Mila Finelli--In this one, a mob boss and a mafia princess (who wants to be a doctor lmao) are forced to marry, and then the boss is blackmailed.... he has to get her pregnant within six months, or Something Bad Will Happen. However, it turns out that they both have a breeding kink, so they get SUPER into it and feelings start to develop. This is the one where he makes her kiss his balls and thank them for all the cum they're about to give her (she's about it).
Fantasy:
The Winter King by C.L. Wilson--The hero conquers the heroine's kingdom, and part of the treaty is her being forced to marry him and give him an heir within a year. VERY hot.
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coffeewritesfiction · 9 months
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A scene from my Cthulhu Mythos WIP Through the Yellow Window. After surviving an unwanted visit to Carcosa, our exhausted protagonist must deal with his boss, the eccentric and manipulative mob boss, Nathan O'Tipp. Nathan knows more than he ever says. Even as he explains the nature of the gods to his minion, he keeps a few secrets tight to himself. Can you guess what they are?
1.4k words
Even if O'Tipp killed me now, I wouldn't care. I sat, limp, in a chair in his office, my eyes focused somewhere between the floor and my clasped hands. Rest seemed years away. That's all I wanted though. Sweet, dreamless sleep.
O'Tipp sat behind his desk. His gaze burrowed into my body, I didn't need to see it to feel it, how he looked for any answers I hadn't given him already. The hallway clock ticked outside the room. I inhaled, and my body shook with it.
"So that's what happened?" O'Tipp said.
I nodded.
The leather chair squeaked as O'Tipp leaned back, fingers drumming the top of the desk. I glanced up at him, but the scowl on his face forced my gaze back down. Another conscious inhale, I closed my eyes.
The clock ticked outside.
“Do you have any idea,” O’Tipp said, “What you’ve just experienced?”
I swallowed. Shook my head. He sighed. The chair squeaked, O’Tipp standing from his desk. His dress shoes clicked on the polished floor.
“You must have the worst luck of any mortal I’ve met in a long time,” he said.
I raised my head, looked at him. He’d opened one of the curtains, and now stood staring out into the night streets of Arkham. One fist rested on the windowsill, the knuckles white, fingers twitching.
“Most people don’t get the chance to escape Lost Carcosa,” he continued. “Much less get away after meeting a member of its Yellow Court.” O’Tipp turned around, looked at me, his eyes strange and cold. “And you’re telling me he let you go.”
I swallowed again. Nodded. O’Tipp hissed through his teeth and turned back to the street.
“Arrogant bastard,” he said, shaking his head. He laughed, not to me, to himself. “But why wouldn’t he be? He knows how it all works better than anyone else…”
In the reflection of the glass, his smile seemed to stretch at the edges. My heart clenched.
Moving back towards me, O’Tipp placed both hands on the end of his desk and leaned over it. He tilted his head at me, amusement wrinkling the skin around his eyes.
“I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting the Duke for myself,” he said. “Maybe you are unlucky, but I’m quite fortunate to have you for myself. Breathe easy, Harbinger. I don’t plan to let him or his King have you.”
It wasn’t relief that softened the muscles in my shoulders.
“What do you mean?” I said. “You can… stop it?”
“It?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I mean-” My throat closed up. “I… I don’t want to go back.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“But he said-”
“That you’d see him again?” O’Tipp looked me in the eye and I shifted in discomfort.
“... What happens now?” I asked, looking away.
O’Tipp grunted. He turned around, leaning against his desk, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“The King won’t let you go now that you’ve seen his sign.”
He stepped away from the desk, tucked his hands in his pockets.
“In your dreams, you will see him. You will find yourself in his presence, again, and again, night, after night. It’s called Lost Carcosa for many reasons, but only one matters to you: it will take you.”
His steps carried him around my chair, pacing around me as he spoke.
“You’ll lose time. Lose memories of where you’ve been, who you’ve seen. Carcosa will devour them, gifts from humanity to the King. Reality will be lost to you, slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you grasp it.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. My breath froze in my chest.
“One day,” His fingers squeezed. “You will open a door, or lie down in your bed, and where you’ll find yourself, you won’t like much. You’ll be lost to Earth, another missing person case in the papers.
“And maybe,” his breath touched my ear, “maybe next you’ll lose your mind - lose the ability to think, to know what you’ve lost, nothing but a living automation to be carved into some new amusement. Or maybe you’ll lose your senses, running through the hollowed streets in blind terror, until your body surrenders, or the Court hunts you down.”
His grip would bruise. “Or you’ll join them. The Court of the King in Yellow. You’ll kiss the hand of the King, and you will feel so wonderful. It won’t feel like a loss at all. But you’ll have lost something far more precious than even your soul.”
I drew in a breath, the blood long gone from my face. The hand on my shoulder released me.
“Not that I believe in such saccharine concepts like that of the ‘immortal soul’,” he said. “But I know you don’t need such a reminder.”
My fingers dug into my thighs, and trembled.
“How can I stop it?”
O’Tipp laughed.
“You can’t!” He dropped back into his chair, and grinned at me. “But,” he leaned forward. “Earning the favor of another of similar power can and will ground you to Earth, making it harder for the King to take you. Eventually, he’ll accept that you've been claimed by another and give up. Even the most impossible things in the universe run out of patience in time.”
I blinked my dry eyes. Licked my lips. The idea of tying myself to one of the so-called gods of the universe wasn’t an idea I liked much. But it didn’t seem like anyone had a choice in that, in this town.
“Who could I turn to?”
“Well,” he said, “The obvious choice is Cthulhu. He could arguably be considered a patron god of this planet, if you wanted to use such blasphemous and pagan terms. It’s said he’s a rival to Hastur -”
He paused, pointed a finger at me. “By the way, don’t say any of these names outside of this room, they can hear you when you do. Hastur is said to be a brother of Cthulhu and one of his many rivals. Putting aside all that about him being the future ruler of this planet, Cthulhu could potentially be helpful because it’s said his brother and the King are connected in some way… It’s not very clear how. But none of this ever is. Human minds aren’t meant to comprehend the scale they work on.”
Looking down at my hands, I grimaced. I’d had dealings with worshippers of Cthulhu before. Turning to him for help held no appeal. Nothing about this did. Was I damned to become a cultist no matter what I chose?
“There are others who could be helpful…” O’Tipp said, smiling. “But you don’t have to go through any of those troublesome steps. Thanks to me, you’re already connected to one of the most powerful ones of them all.”
I looked back up, frowning.
“Really,” I said. “Who is that?”
O’Tipp’s grin seemed to grow even wider.
“Nyarlathotep.”
I pulled back in my seat. My stomach dropped.
"... Of course," I spoke through numb lips. "That's who you worship, isn't it."
Never looking away from me, he reached into a drawer and pulled out a cigar. The match sparked in his fingers. Smoke drifted up towards the ceiling, a scent I could only associate with him brushing over my face. O'Tipp's smile never faded, not once.
He drew in a deep breath of the cigar, and exhaled.
"What do you know about him?"
I shivered.
He raised an eyebrow at me, waiting.
I looked at the ornate rug beneath my feet.
"... The Crawling Chaos." I didn't look at him. "Son of the Daemon Sultan. A messenger of the will of the Other Gods, whatever that will may be. Trickster and tyrant, with a thousand forms, some horrible, some beautiful."
"You've been paying attention," O'Tipp said. I looked up at him. Was that pride in his eyes? I looked down at the floor again.
"He's the patron of this sad little town," O'Tipp said. "Least, that's what I figure. His influence is dripping off the walls of every building in Arkham. Especially that lovely little Witch House you're living in." O'Tipp laughed. "I still can't believe I legally own that place!"
I narrowed my eyes at the ground. My teeth clenched. O'Tipp sighed in contentment and drew in another inhale of the cigar.
"It won't take long for the King to sense the presence of the Messenger on you." He tapped the ash out into the golden tray on his desk. "I'm sure he'll show anger over it. He's territorial - both of them are - and he may not be willing to let you go. Not at first. But even he won't challenge Nyarlathotep."
He smiled again, staring at something I couldn't see.
"Oh no, he won't. That I'm sure of." He laughed. "He wouldn't want to cause another war, would he?"
I looked at him. O'Tipp glanced at me. He smiled again.
"Now aren't you lucky you don't know what I'm talking about?"
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vikingpoteto · 4 years
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Red Robin under the spotlight
Read on AO3 
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Relationships:  GEN. Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake
Summary: Red Robin and Red hood are basically urban legends, no one is sure they're real. That is, until there is a picture of the two of them grinning at each other on Gotham Gazette's front page.
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Tim Drake is having… a day. 
Stuck in his office for the afternoon, he is praying for nightime to come soon so he can put on his suit and vent his frustration by beating up some unsuspecting criminal. He’d known being a CEO wasn’t particularly fun, but he didn’t expect the board of directors to be babies for so long. 
He skims his proposal for what feels like the hundredth time unsure of how to make it clearer that that is the best course of action for their investments. The fact that he is only 18 should not trump his very solid, data-based arguments. 
So he’s already in a bad mood and praying for a distraction when his office door swings open and Tam Fox storms in.
“Timothy!” she shouts. 
He feels like he's about to learn he should be careful with what he wishes.
“Hey, Tam, I missed you too?” He tries.
Behind her, his secretary makes a helpless gesture as if trying to communicate she tried to stop Tam. Tim gives the woman a tired smile and makes a dismissive gesture.
Ignoring that, Tam slams the door closed and repeats for emphasis: “Timothy.” She pushes an iPad into Tim’s chest. “What is the meaning of this?”
Raising an eyebrow, he takes the iPad and looks at the screen, noticing he’s staring at a Gotham Gazette article and… Tim’s heart stops.
The headline screaming at his face says RED DYNAMIC DUO? by Vicki Vale and beneath it…
“Oh god,” Tim whimpers.
Beneath the headline there’s a picture of him and the Red Hood. 
Or, well, Red Robin and Red Hood. They’re sitting on the fire escape of one of the abandoned buildings in Jason’s territory and both are seemingly at ease. Too at ease. There are two BatBurger bags at their side and their fingers are intertwined. Red Robin is staring at their joined hands with a wide smile. Fucking hell. Tim always makes a point of never smiling in front of anyone when he’s in his suit, he has a reputation to protect. He doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that Red Hood isn’t wearing his helmet, because it emans his open grin is visible as well - and thank god  Jason has the habit of wearing a domino under his helmet. 
Who the hell took that picture? How the hell did they go unnoticed by both Tim and Jason?
He then starts reading the article, every word feeling like a punch to the gut. 
Gotham City has seen its share of vigilantes over the years and, unlike public figures such as Superman, they prefer to keep to themselves, making many people wonder whether they’re even human. As a shot captured by an amateur photographer that chose to remain anonymous, we find out at least a pair of the many Gotham “heroes” are closer to us than we thought. 
The vigilante known as Red Robin Gotham's patheon of heroes a couple of months ago and little is known about him. He’s been seen working with the likes of Batman, Robin and even Batgirl, making us all think he’s one of the good guys. It seems like Red Robin’s circle of friendships doesn’t include only Justice League members, though.
The Red Hood, the man so tenderly smiling at Red Robin, is a notorious mob boss whose territory's size, GCPD especulates, rivals Black Mask’s. Red Hood wanders between both criminal activities and a violent brand of justice and, while he's been seen working side-by-side with heroes like Nightwing, a hero that since has only been seen in Bludhaven, no one can claim to have seen the Red Hood so comfortable around one of the bats of Gotham
The two young men were pictured in a tender moment. Could this mean that Red Robin is straying towards villany? Is the Red Hood is considering changing his ways? Or, perhaps, are we facing a pair of starcrossed lovers, separated by different set of morals, but still unable to stay away from one another? 
Tim makes an inhumane sound. The words  star crossed lovers  jump from the screen, burning his eyes and making him wish he was going over a dumb business proposal still.
“Well?” Tam demands. “What is that, Tim?”
“I don’t know, Tam,” he answers, his voice weak. “What on earth- How the hell… Oh, god .”
“Why were you hanging out with the Red Hood?”
“Stakeout,” Tim says simply.
“Why were you on a stakeout with the freaking Red Hood?”
At that, Tim recovers enough to feel a bit miffed. That’s the same tone she had last year when Tim was working with assassins and he gets offended on his brother’s behalf. Even if, you know, said brother had also been somewhat related to the assassins in question. In the past.
“Hey, Hood is not as bad as the news make him look. Sure, he’s not exactly clean, but he’s a valuable undercover agent and…”
Tam makes sounds of a woman whose white Valentino bag had liquid lipstick spilled in. “Does that mean you  are  dating the Red Hood?”
“What? NO!”
Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. God, what a mess. 
“He’s my brother,” he says. 
Tam looks like she goes through the 7 stages of grief in a very short time and, honestly, Tim feels for her. He likes Tam a lot. She is smart and strong and the poor girl has had to deal with so much since she and Tim became friends.
“Are you telling me… that Dick Grayson…”
“No, Dick’s not the Red Hood.”
She stares at the picture again and then at him. “This isn’t Duke or Damian, Tim.”
“You’re right. It’s a long story. I can’t tell you, though. I trust you but Hood’s identity isn’t my secret to share.” 
Tam closes her eyes and breathes in and out slowly. After all the crap she had to deal as one of Red Robin’s friends, a stranged brother that happened to be a crime lord (an anti-hero, really) wasn’t that far fetched. She didn’t know much about the Drakes because Tim didn’t talked about them, so, for all she knows, Red Hood could be Jack’s or Janet’s bastard child. Although Tim can figure her theories, he doesn’t try to explain anything. Whatever she works out is better than letting her know Red Hood is Bruce Wayne’s son brought back from the dead.
“Fine. You’re not dating a criminal. You’re a criminal’s brother.”
“I mean… if you think about it, I’m a criminal too.” He smiles sheepishly under her glare. “Being a vigilante isn’t exactly something I can put on my resume.” 
Shaking her head, Tam checks the picture again. “What were you even doing? Because it looks like you’re holding hands and finding it hilarious.”
“We… hm. We were thumb wrestling.”
She stares at him, her expression empty of any emotion. Tim cringes.
“Look, not everything is death traps and high risks, alright? Sometimes stakeouts get boring!”
“You were laughing your head off because you were having a thumb war with the Red Hood,” Tam deadpans.
“Hm. Actually the thumb war wasn't that funny, that was him cheating. I was winning so he kept talking shit about Dick’s past to make me laugh and lose focus.”
Tam finally sits down and she looks at ceiling as if she’s considering all the life decisions that lead her to this moment. At this point, Tim knows she’s just being dramatic, because knowing Red Hood cheats at thumb war for certain isn’t more shocking than the time she met Tim. 
“The thumb was isn’t important now, though,” Tim says. “ This  is a huge problem. Hood’s gonna be in hot water if people think he’s  friends  with a hero.”
He refuses to use the word lovers, because ew. Sure they’re not related by blood, but… ew. Tim  sees  him as a brother, damn it.
“Well, I’m afraid there’s not a lot we can do now,” Tam says apologetically. “The article’s been up since this morning. Even if we have them take it down, it’s already out there. #RedDynamicDuo is trending on Twitter.”
Oof. That’s… oof.
Tim intertwines his fingers and glares at the tablet in front of him as if waiting for the puzzle to solve itself. He knows it won’t, so it’s up to him to fix this. His burnt out brain suggests calling Bart and asking him to run back in time and stop that cursed thumb war. His practical brain has half a mind to call Oracle and see how much online evidence she can get rid of. He has to contact Gotham Gazette and threaten them into not putting vigilante’s identities at risk by posting such pictures, although he doesn’t hold high hopes for that course of action. What he needs now is a bigger scandal, although he fails to think of something more dramatic than Red Robin and Red Hood being buddies…
Right as he’s starting to feel a bit forlorn, his phone buzzes on the table. A picture of Dick smiling flashes on the screen and Tim allows himself to perk up for a moment. Dick for sure will be able to help him.
“Dick!” He picks up, full of hope.
Tim is greeted with cackling. Dick’s cackling.
He groans. “Richard.”
“AHAHAHAHA O-oh god, you… aha... b-baby bird, you… HAHAHAHA--”
Tim isn’t paid enough for this. He hangs up.
“Can you help me with this?” He asks.
“Don’t I always?” Tam quirks an eyebrow.
Smiling tiredly, he stands. “I’m taking the rest of the afternoon off. Can you take care of… you know… day job stuff?”
“I guess. Good luck with your… your family thing.”
 THE BIRDNEST
spoiler alert: *insert game of thrones joke here*
In the hood: Go fuck yourself, Stephanie
spoiler alert: not judging u bro he hella cute
WonderWing: steph please
cassandra cain-wayne: ?
send me a Signal: they’re talking about that picture of Hood and Red holding hands cass
yumm: were NOT holding hands
cassandra cain-wayne: I print that picture.
In the hood: W H Y ! ?
cassandra cain-wayne: cute :) 
spoiler alert: she right and she should say it
In the hood: Steph, turn on your location. I just want to talk.
yumm: stephanie I hv pics of u sleep drooling on me from that that 1 patrol dnt test me
spoiler alert: shut up red dynamic duo
 Tim hates the internet.
Barbara is kindly trying her best to muffle the online reaction, but there is only so much she can do without outright deleting people’s tweets. Tim knows for a fact that that would only cause a bigger uproar, so he asks her to settle for burying mentions of them under a fake algorithm. 
He has yet to think of gossip hot enough to top the rumors, but he doesn’t think even his fake engagement to Tam last year received so much attention. A glimpse into Gotham’s elusive heroes’ personal lives was too exciting to let go quickly.
When he walks into his apartment, he wants nothing but to take a hot shower and a nap. He knows he can’t, though. 
As well as he knows he isn’t alone. 
He plays it cool, walking in as though he doesn’t notice the person in the shadows. He drops his keys and phone on the nearest table as he would normally and turns around too abruptly to allow a reaction, his fist connecting to… someone’s palm.
“Nice reflexes, Baby Bird,” Jason says, quirking an eyebrow as though mildly impressed.
Tim groans. “Would it kill you to use the door?”
“It might, better not risk it.”
“It shaves five years of my life span every time I come home and you’re waiting in the shadows. Of all of Bruce’s habits to pick up…”
Jason simply shrugs. “So… what’s up,  honey? ”
“Ew, don’t say that,” Tim groans.
Keeping his nonchalant facade, Jason lets himself fall into Tim’s couch as though he belongs there. Tim heads to his room to change into more humane clothes.
“I’m assuming Dickie shared the news already,” Jason says.
“He couldn’t stop laughing long enough to say anything,” Tim replies from his closet. “Tam was kind enough to show me, though.”
“Tam… is that your ex-fiancée? Hmm… The news sure keep shipping you with everyone, speaking of which.”
Grumbling the whole time, Tim puts on a purple hoodie he might or might not have stolen from Stephanie and that he wears whenever he’s stressed. He wears that hoodie a lot. Heading back to the living room barefoot and feeling slightly more prepared to deal with the situation, he says:
“I’m assuming you aren’t here just to hang out.”
Jason gives him an unimpressed look. “I’ll give you three guesses.”
Tim blinks once. Twice.  No, it can’t be that… “ Everyone thinks you’re a rat.”
“Bingo.”
And this situation keeps getting better and better. Red Hood is feared enough that he can get away with hanging out with the goody two shoes every now and again and keep his rep. Being caught eating burgers and giggling with a hero was a whole new animal. 
They have to assume Hood’s safe houses were compromised as well. The point of having many hideouts is that you’re never left with nowhere to go, but even Jason wasn’t prepared to have everyone in his territory turn on him. That and they all had been raised and trained to be paranoid. It was too big of a risk to assume he’d be safe in a known place.
“Crap,” Tim mutters. 
“I considered ditching Gotham and spending some time with Roy instead…”
“But that would be as good as a confession. You’d never gain their respect again,” Tim completes for him.
Jason nods. 
The only silver-lining about this situation is that this is Jason. Granted he isn’t too angry to think, Jason is practical and willing to do what’s needed, even if it’s annoying or if it makes him uncomfortable. Tim likes working with him because of that.
“You know where the extra blankets are,” Tim says. 
Because, of course, if Jason can’t be at his own place and he can’t be with Roy and Kory, he’d crash Tim’s place. The manor isn’t really an option for him and Tim doesn’t blame him for that. 
“The plan of action?”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure out.”
Jason sighs. “I’m going to punch something in your Red Robin cave.”
“Be my guest.”
 Damage control is necessary, of course, especially for Red Hood’s safety, but there is something bothering Tim more. He opens the news and studies the picture. It’s a damn good shot, almost looks like it was staged. He closes his eyes and tries to remember that night. In order to take that picture, the photographer would have to be in of of the buildings across the street and they’d have to be good enough to go unnoticed not by one, but by two highly trained vigilantes, one of which had his senses enhanced by the Lazarus pit. 
He messages Babs quickly for more info on whoever sent those pictures to the news, but not even Oracle had managed to track them yet. It sounds like the photographer walked into Vicki Vale on the street and handed her the picture, because there was no digital footprint of such interaction.
Without any more ideas, he puts on his suit and heads out, glad that is patrol night. Perhaps punching criminals will give him some clarity.
Tim is nowhere near closing any of his cases and Gotham is unusually quiet because of course the criminals would choose tonight of all nights to be chill. The night Tim needs a crime. That’s why he’s more than a little thankful when a crackling sound in his comm lets him know someone’s trying to send him a message.
“Hey, hot stuff,” a familiar voice calls, “I have an underground gambling den to dismantle tonight, you want in?”
Red Robin smiles. “Is that a date?”
“I don’t know, is it? I don’t want Red Hood coming after me.”
“Batgirl.”
She laughs shamelessly. He hopes Barbara isn’t listening. Although the alternative would be Wendy listening, and he doesn’t know which one would be worse. Steph’s sense of humor isn’t for everyone and while, Tim doesn’t mind their inside jokes and got used to her eternal flirting, he feels as though those should remain between the two of them only.
“I’m serious, though,” Steph continues. “I don’t think backup is needed per se, but I miss fighting criminals with you. Plus I figured you could use a punching bag or two.”
He grins. He just  really  loves Steph. 
“Send me the details. I’ll meet you there.”
Turns out it’s a pretty standard burst for them. Gambling den covering a massive drug operation, because this is Gotham. Why wouldn’t they use an illegal thing to cover another more illegal thing? That sounded like a great idea. 
He finds Batgirl waiting for him on top of a building. She simply smiles and points at the shady alley down the street. 
“Gentlemen first?” she offers. 
“It’s your case.”
With a nod, she dives towards the ground and Red Robin follows her closely, frowning in confusion when she doesn’t dropkicks any windows. Instead, she casually strolls towards the back of the alley where a suspicious metal door that could easily go unnoticed if it didn’t scream CRIMINAL ACTIVITY HERE. Batgirl knocks at the door and gestures at Red Robin to stay away.
A slit on the door slides open and a confused crook tries unsuccessfully to see who’s there. With both vigilantes’ out of his line of sight, the poor bastard has no option other than opening the door to check. Batgirl swiftly pulls him into a headlock as soon as he walks into view and Red Robin’s grinning face is the last thing the man sees before the pressured applied makes him pass out.
Red Robin doesn’t figure what Steph’s plan is until she cuffs the unconscious bouncer and stands straight, offering her arm.
“You’re so dramatic.” He rolls his eyes, even as he takes it.
“Shush, you think I’m awesome.”
That he does. Especially when the two of them climb down into the basement turned illegal cassino with their arms locked as if they’re a couple. It’s cartoonishly comic how long it takes everyone to realize Red Robin and Batgirl are standing on the entrance, looking around at the 50 different illegal activities happening at once. 
Not as comic as when Batgirl shouts over the music: “Please, don’t stop on our account!”
The gamblers sober enough to freeze in horror. 
“Before we start, anyone wants to just give themselves in?” Red Robin offers.
That’s when guns start firing and all hell breaks loose. 
 The night ends, as it would, with Batgirl and Red Robin walking home a trio of strippers. The women weren’t to blame that their work environment was less than ideal and they certainly didn’t need to be left tied up waiting for the GCPD like the mobsters Steph and Tim beat up tonight.
Red Robin wanted to just watch them from the top ot the buildings and make sure they got home safe, but Batgirl insisted they walked alongside the women. Their costumes don’t look completely out of place near them and Red Robin doesn’t know what to think of that.
For a second, he thinks he hears someone behind them. Everytime he turns around, he finds nothing but an empty alley, so he shrugs if off as him getting hit tooo many times.
While Batgirl excitedly chats with two of the women about their future employment - one of them is in this line of work just to get by, the other genuinely enjoys sensual dancing as a form of art but wishes she could work somewhere better - when the third of them discreetly detaches herself from the group to walk closer to Red Robin.
She still looks tense and guarded, her arms tightly wrapped around herself and Tim wishes he had a jacket to offer her. The way she sideeyes him says she wants to say something, but is too nervous to start. Not wanting to betray his persona, he simply waits, trying to appear as non threatening as possible.
“Thanks a lot for savin’ us, Red Robin,” the woman says finally. “I can’t believe I’m meetin’ ya.”
He gives her a small smile. “I’m just glad you’re safe, ma’am, there’s no need to thank me.”
“I just wanted ta say… I get ya.”
Red Robin tilts his head to the side. “Ma’am?”
“The thing with your man. Must ta’ be hard dating the Red Hood. I know how it is.”
He was… He was getting sympathy from a stripper with bad taste in men.
“There’s nothing gross between Hood and I!” He lets out before he can help himself, his voice a little louder than intended.
The other women startle at his outburst and turn to him, wary. One of them reaches for what is clearly a pocket knife that she thinks is cleverly hidden in her bra.
He sighs. “I’m sorry, ma’am, just… Batgirl, I believe you’ve got things from here. I’m taking off.”
She gives him a concerned look, but ultimately nods. Under Batgirl’s and the three strippers perplexed glares, Red Robin grapples his way out of there.
 Tim wakes up around noon feeling as though he was hit by a truck, as he does when he sleeps longer than three hours a night. He slowly sits up and looks around his messy room, wondering how come he’s feeling so miserable. The smell of food stirs him into some sort of alertness.
Right. He’s not home alone today.
Yawning and scratching his belly, he forces himself to get out of bed. He know that the longer he stays the more likely he is to slip into a coma, his body demanding compensation for years of sleep deprivation. Tim drags his feet towards his kitchen where he finds one of Gotham’s most dangerous vigilantes humming to himself as he makes breakfast. Or Lunch. Brunch. Whatever.
“And here I thought I was the family’s zombie,” Jason says in lieu of good morning.
Tim grumbles something about his brother being too comfortable in Tim’s kitchen, but he doesn’t dare complain. Jason is probably the only person that uses Tim’s stove and one of the perks of having him over is that he does cook. A lot. 
The one disadvantage about having Jason over is…
A knife lodges itself on the counter in front of Tim when he tries to reach for the coffee pot. Tim didn’t even see him throwing it. He glares at his brother.
“Food first. Coffee after,” Jason says. 
“I’m too nauseous to eat, I just woke up.”
Again without breaking eye contact with the pot he’s stirring, Jason blindly reaches for a package of crackers casually left on the counter and hands it to Tim.
Tim makes sure to give him his best rebellious teenager glare before grabbing the stupid crackers and sitting down to eat them. Stupid Jason with his stupid boredom. Tim had forgotten Jason goes into full mom mode when he has nothing else to do and that he’s particularly obnoxious about Tim’s eating habits.
“I consume the necessary calories,” Tim mumbles over his cracker.
“Okay, Damian.”
Tim throws a cracker at him. Jason easily dodges without looking, which is kind of annoying.
After that, the two brothers fall into comfortable silence. Tim knows Jason wants to talk about their plan of action, but he knows Tim is nowhere near awake enough to hold a conversation. Besides, Jason doesn’t like being bothered while he’s cooking anyway.
By the time the food is ready, the crackers worked their magic and Tim no longer feels as though his stomach is ready to puke out its emptiness. He grabs dishes he hadn’t used in quite a while and sets the table for the two of them. The brothers start eating in silence, Tim slowly recovering his sense of self - no wonder he goes for so long without sleeping, he takes too long to reboot when he does - and Jason mindlessly scrolling through his phone. 
Then something on the small screen makes Jason choke on his food. 
Tim quirks an eyebrow. “You okay?”
“Hm… Timmy, you may wanna take a look at this.”
“What?” Tim takes Jason’s phone. “Oh, for fuck’s sake !” 
It’s another news article. The picture is fortunately less detailed, just a red and black silhouette against Gotham’s sky that may or may not be Red Robin standing over one of the many gargoyles. The text, however.  
RED ROBIN MAKES HOMOPHOBIC REMARK AND SHOCKS ADMIRER
Gotham’s newest vigilante busted an underground gambling den last night. Despite his heroic deed, his words after the fact were less than commendable. When questioned about his relationship with the Red Hood by one of the women he rescued, the hero allegedly said that there’s “Nothing gross between him and Hood.”
“Personally, I was shocked,” said the woman in question, Krystal Math, 25  years old. “Red Robin became my favorite hero when I heard he also has a dead-beat boyfriend. I was starting to finally see myself in one of those bats, you know? I couldn’t believe when he said being gay is gross. Never meet your heroes, I guess.”
   THE BIRDNEST
WonderWing sent a screenshot.
WonderWing: red robin is cancelled for homophobia, pass it on
Robin: Good. It’s about time we rid ourselves of him.
Cassandra Cain: Little brother does not approve gay rights? :(
yumm: im literally bisexual
spoiler alert: he avoiding the question
in the hood: #redrobinisoverparty
yumm: I hate this fucking family
 Tim hasn’t stopped pacing around the room since he read the most recent article. Those were his exact words by the letter, meaning someone had been listening. He doubts Krystal, bless her heart, was the one going to the news with his “homophobic remark”. 
Having basically given up on getting Tim to calm down, Jason is the one to get the porch door open for Steph. Because apparently she’s been learning from Jason and acquired his hatred for front doors. Steph knows how Tim gets, so she promptly ignores him and gets comfortable on the reading chair to check the article fully.
“This is nuts,” Steph says. “We were being careful. I made sure of it.”
Tim believes her. Batman and Robin are basically public figures at this point, even if they don’t interact with civilians if they can help it. Red Robin and the Signal were heard of and spotted around the city, but not a lot of people really  know  of them. Red Hood was basically a urban legend until recently and Black Bat sill is. Batgirl, however, is known for being a people hero. 
She was, back in Barbara’s time, stopped for a bit with Cass, but Steph embraced the old tradition whole heartedly. She would walk people home late at night to make sure they were safe, wave at little girls in the bus, talk to kidnapping victims until they were under heavy blankets handed by the police. Steph was extroverted and charming and she used that fully as Batgirl like she never could as Spoiler. That being said, she and Barbara always made a point to avoid pictures, security cameras and whatnot. If there was a hero good at hanging with civilians while unnoticed by the media, that hero was Stephanie Brown.
Tim’s phone is buzzing. He ignores it in favor of stomping around some more. 
“Well, something must have slipped your watchful eye,” Jason says, shrugging.
Steph glares at him. “Mine, perhaps, but are you implying someone went unnoticed by Oracle?”
“Well, someone obviously did,” Tim snaps, tossing his phone at the couch in frustration. “What happened after I left, Steph?”
“Nothing,” she says honestly. “I walked the ladies home. Krystal was a bit miffed but she didn’t say anything, so I thought she was just a shipper upset that her OTP wasn’t canon.”
“You think she went to the news after?” Jason suggests.
Steph frowns. “Why would she? She didn’t look like she had media connections exactly.”  
Tim’s phone, that bounced off the couch and fell with a soft thud on the carpet, continues to explode with texts. He sighs and stops to pick it up and finally answer them.
“Appearances can be deceiving,” Jason argues. Then turns to Tim: “You should look into her. I’m gonna check other possible sources.”
“Hm-hum, just a second,” Tim mumbles, typing furiously. “Damian is being a nightmare and asking for help on a case.”
“Wack. Are you telling him to solve his own cases instead of using your intell to impress Bruce?”
Tim glares at Jason.
“Really? C’mon, Timmy, we’ve been over this.”
Stephanie gives them a puzzled look. “You’ve been over… Dami being a nightmare?”
“Jason says that whenever someone is mean to me I should reply by attacking them where hurts the most,” Tim explains.
“He knows all of our weaknesses and he has the quickest thinking,” Jason says, frustrated. “The least he should do is stand up for himself with that knowledge!”
"Kinda rich coming from the guy that tried to kill him," Steph says, quirking an eyebrow.
"Steph," Tim scowls. "He didn't know me then and the pit rage--"
"Timmy," Jason cuts him off. 
Tim sighs. "Besides now I could off him in 20 different ways if he tried any of that shit again. There. Happy, Jason?"
"That's my baby brother."
Steph smiles at him. “You know what? You’re onto something, Jaybird.”
Tim interrupts his walk of worry again to smile a bit. Something about Stephanie and Jason agreeing on something is immensely satisfying.
Still, on the matter at hand, Tim says, “If I go off on Damian, Dick’s gonna get mad…”
“Then go off on Dick as well,” Steph promptly suggests.
Jason high-fives her. “Atta girl. Besides if Dick doesn’t want us to tell Damian to fuck off he has to work harder on teaching him not to be a little shit. Everyone here has a tragic backstory here and we all know Damian goes too far sometimes.”
Tim shakes his head again. “Regardless, Damian’s case will have to wait. We’re gonna go with your plan, Jay. And Steph…”
“Wow, no way, José. I’m just here as an eyewitness. I don’t want to get involved with homophobes and end up shipped with Jason or some shit.”
Tim glares at her. “I was going to offer you some of our leftovers, but since you’re not interested, that’s fine.”
While Jason laughs and Steph protests, he proceeds to look for his laptop, hoping this isn’t going to be a dead end. 
 “This is a dead end,” Tim declares.
From what he can find, Krystal wasn’t even paid for her impromptu interview. Apparently Vicki Vale showed up at her place to confirm the veracity of a story that she heard God knows where. 
Dick is in Bludhaven, but he insisted on facetiming them when he realized his brothers were struggling, even if he mostly just made worried faces from Tim’s phone as Tim, Jason and Steph exchanged notes. As a rule of thumb, Tim doesn’t involve his siblings in his cases since he became Red Robin, but this is definitely an all hands on deck situation. Tim isn’t desperate enough to get Bruce involved, but he’s getting there. Especially when Dick says:
“Babs couldn’t find anything in Vicki’s email or phone. She’s double checking all of Vicki's sources, but so far it’s been no good.”
“We could always get Vale and hang her by the ankles on top of some building until she talks,” Jason suggests. "Let's go old school on her."
Everyone ignores Jason. Tim stands for another mug of coffee. Dick lets out a frustrated sigh. Steph keeps watching all of them from the couch, where she’s been lying down and tossing gummy bears into her mouth for the past half-hour. 
When no one acknowledges him, Jason sighs and stands. “Alright, this’ been fun. I’m going to patrol.”
Dick frowns. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“He can’t vanish,” Steph says. “One thing is crashing Tim’s place to make sure he won’t get ambushed in his down time. If Red Hood goes AWOL he might as well admit he’s working with the Batclan.”
Jason nods. “If I don’t do my job, next thing I know Black Mask takes over my stuff.” 
“Can’t have Black Mask taking over his stuff,” Steph agrees.
Dick glances at Tim as though expecting him to disagree with the plan. Tim lets out a defeated sigh. “He’s right. Just… make sure to find a safe place to change into your gear so no one sees you. If there are any safe places, that is…”
Jason rolls his eyes. Tim knows he’s going full Robbie Downer mode, as Jason likes to call it, but he can’t help it. It’s not often that he finds himself without any ideas. He  should  have been able to solve this already. Since nothing comes to mind, he starts imagining unrealistic scenarios in hopes that they’ll give him some insight outside of the box.  AU in which I was never shipped with my brother by some nosey reporter. AU in which I went out Damian instead of Jason that night.
Tim groans in frustration. “Why did it have to be Jason? We could get away with me having a thumb war with literally anyone. If it was Batman out there, this wouldn’t be that much of a problem.”
“Maybe if you hung out with all your brothers and not just Jason there wouldn’t be as many rumors about you and Red Hood,” Dick mumbles.
Tim glares at the phone. 
“Really? You wanna go there? You wanna talk favoritism, Richard? Because you’ve been favoring Damian for-freaking-ever.”
“Drag him!” Jason cheers. 
“Tim,” Dick says, looking genuinely upset, “I love all-”
“Save it,” Steph cuts in. “We all have favorites Dick, there is no use denying it.”
Because Dick’s eyebrows are knitted in confusion, Tim clarifies: “Bruce’s favorite is Cass, yours is Damian, Jason’s is… I don’t know, his guns. Steph is my favorite, unfortunately. Steph’s favorite is Cass, Cass’ favorite is Duke, Duke doesn’t have favorites, he’s the only good person in this family, and Damian’s is also you.”
Steph nods. “You did it! You broke the Bat Family dynamics to its bare essentials!”
“And that is why Tim is my favorite. After my guns,” Jason adds.
“Jason, we do not rate our siblings.”
“That’s why you’re in last place, Dick.”
Ignoring Dick’s enraged noises, Tim sets his mug aside. “I’m going patrolling, even if today isn't my turn. Solo this time. Hopefully Red Hood and Red Robin being separate out there will help the rumors die down a bit.”
No one has a better idea - Tim’s least favorite sentence - so that’s what they do. 
 It’s another infuriatingly quiet night.
Red Robin stops a couple of muggings, scares the crap out of some drug dealers. At some point, he considers contacting Poison Ivy and asking if she has any corrupt CEO she wants help with. He could, you know. It’d stop Ivy from killing someone and on his last run with Harley Quinn she did let slip that Tim was Ivy’s favorite Robin. 
He almost falls mid swing at the memory, thinking he might be onto something, but then he remembers Harley hadn’t particularly recognized Red Robin as the third Robin. She was just ranting about how the new tiny Robin had no sense of humor and Ivy missed the last one. Besides of course Harley Quinn wasn’t feeding Vicki Vale some BatFanfic. Tim’s brain must be really burnt out if that’s the best hot take it can come up with. 
It’s almost 3am and he’s taking a pair of muggers that can’t be much older than Tim to the police. He’s about ready to call if a night when someone shouts:
“Red Robin!” 
He looks on instinct and his stomach drops when he sees Vicki Vale running towards him.  Crap.
“Red Robin, can I get a statement?”
He keeps walking. He’s just one dirty alley away from GCPD, otherwise he’d just tie the stupid muggers to his back and would use his grappling hook to get out of the situation, grapple safety be damned. The muggers gingerly attempt to hide their faces as the reporter runs to them swinging a digital recorder. Vicki acts as though she can’t see them.
“Red Robin, what do you have to say about the rumors of your relationship with the Red Hood?”
The rumors you created?  Red Robin quickens his pace and the muggers trip over themselves. He stares straight ahead, pretending he doesn’t notice the woman basically running in heels to keep up with him. 
“Are you ashamed of it? Is it because he’s a criminal or because he’s a man?”
Red Robin wonders if the muggers would walk the rest of the way and turn themselves in if he asked nicely.
“Don’t bother, lady,” one of the muggers says. “He’s a nasty bigot.”
The other mugger  nods and the two of them are wearing matching pouty expressions. Now Tim just feels bad. He didn’t become a hero for the recognition and he’s not in the business of doing PSAs like Superman, but he doesn’t want the strange socially woke criminal youth of Gotham to think they’re being arrested by a homophobe.
“I have no problem with two men in a relationship, I’m bisexual,” he tells the muggers. “Still, I’m not dating Red Hood. Just because I’m bi it doesn’t mean I’m dating every male vigilante I run into.”
At that, the two crooks look mildly surprised and suddenly they seem to feel a bit better about being arrested. Would you look at that. 
Red Robin delivers them to the police, painfully aware that Vicki Vale is nowhere to be found anymore. He feels like he’s going to pay dearly for being too prideful to let himself be mistaken for a heterosexual person. 
 Lo and behold, Twitter, on that very same morning.
@Gotham_Gazette:
Red Robin hints that he might be bisexual. “No, I’m not dating the Red Hood, just because I’m bi it doesn’t mean I’m dating every male vigilante,” said the hero on the rumors about his relationship.
        @dgraysonman hints??? he literally said he’s bi smh
        @stephssss wow only the male vigilantes? biphobic. let red robin date batgirl too
        @babsgeez be gay do crime, be bi serve justice
        @thomascommaduke no cops at pride, only Red Robin using a bi flag as cape.
“Timmy…” Jason starts.
“Don’t. Just leave me alone to die.”
“That’s fair, have a nice day.”
 At this point, Tim is surprised Bruce hasn’t intervened. As unaware of social media as Bruce can be, he’s always on the look for anything that might compromise their secret identities. Tim pulls two all-nighters in a row doing detective work and still makes no progress on his search for the person that sent Vicki that picture and overheard his conversation with Krystal. He fully expects Batman to jump him on his next patrol and give him a lecture.
When he comments that to Jason, he gets a confused look in response.
“You didn’t get a lecture? Bruce was the one that told me first. I had to hear about being careless for 20 minutes before I got home and could take off my comm.”
Tim frowns in confusion. Bruce had talked to him once or twice after the news got out and he didn’t comment anything on it. 
“That’s Batman’s psychological profiling,” someone suggests. 
Tim almost jumps out of his skin when Steph casually walks into the living room with a bowl of chips. 
“What are you doing here? And are those my clothes?”
Steph shrugs in the sweater that clearly doesn’t belong to her. “Jason and I are doing movie night.”
“Movie night,” Jason mocks. “She’s been here for the past two days. Did you seriously not notice, Tim?”
Tim’s jaw drops. 
Steph sighs and her expression turns guilty. “Fine. My mom is out of town for the week and Jason is a better cook than I am. Is it a crime to bum off your ex-boyfriend and his bizarrely talented in the kitchen brother?”
Before Tim can say anything, Jason interrupts: “What were you saying about Batman, Steph?”
She heads to the couch and starts looking for the remote, her feet propped on the coffee table. “B knows Jay will just shrug it off and deal with the consequences, hence the need of a lecture. If he annoys Jason, he’ll stop and reflect on it, even if out of rage. He knows Tim’s already overthinking and working his butt off to fix it, so he doesn’t want to add any pressure.”
Both Jason and Tim stand in dumbfounded silence.  Since when does Steph know Bruce so well?
She raises her gaze when the quietness stretches and quirks an eyebrow at them. “What? Am I wrong?”
“Hm. No. That’s pretty much what we’ve been doing,” Jason admits, if a big begrudgingly. “That’s annoying though.”
Steph simply makes a dismissive gesture and pats the sit beside her. “Tim, you need a break. Wanna join us?”
Tim hesitates. On one hand, the fact that Bruce trusts him that much is a tad touching… and knowing it makes him feel he has to solve this as soon as possible. On another… it’s kind of annoying that Bruce knows him so well and yet doesn’t think about offering any assistance. Tim is not stubborn enough to refuse a helping hand when he’s on a pinch.
“You’re not going to solve anything if you’re hallucinating from sleep deprivation, Timbers,” Jason points. “Besides we’re watching Avatar.”
“Fine,” Tim says.
If for nothing else, just to prove to Bruce that he’s  not an overworker and he can slack off in the absence of a parental figure.
Tim falls asleep in the middle of the second episode. Steph and Jason vow to take him to bed once they’re sure he’s completely out, but they only last until the end of the first season. The three sleep soundly on the couch for good eight hours and regret dearly when they wake up with necks too sore to fight crime for at least a day.
 Consequences. They always come.
Almost a week goes by in which the rumors are but an annoyance to Jason and a source of stress to Tim - but almost anything can stress Tim if he tries hard enough, so that’s not saying anything. Jason is still staying at Tim’s, but he’s considering going back to his own place when they go for three days with no new article and nothing unusual has happened. 
Until it does. 
It’ a rainy night Tim is going over reports for the next WE meeting when he hears a noise coming from the balcony. His stomach gives a familiar twist when he recognizes Batgirl hunched over the weight of one Red Hood. 
He rushes to her aid, already feeling nauseous. There’s no blood in sight but whatever happened must be serious if Jason is willing to let Batgirl give him a piggyback ride. Tim lets them drip water all over the floor and, in his panic, has half a mind to appreciate that Batgirl’s boots have enough traction that she doesn’t slip.
“What on Earth…”
“The most ridiculous thing,” Steph bables as she and Tim drag a very dizzy Jason to the couch. She then starts ranting so fast Bart Allen would be proud. “He was doing his thing as usual, but some of his people turned on him and there was an ambush and so many flipping people against one poor Hood and good god that guy shot his helmet at point-blank which,  damn , that was so stupid, of course the freaking helmet is bullet proof, it just ricocheted and…”
“Steph, calm down,” Tim interrupts. “Jason, can you report?”
When he gingerly attempts to take off his helmet, Steph takes over and undoes the safety measures before carefully removing it. There is a dent on the back part where he had been presumably shot. 
“Hm,” Jason grunts, squinting even behind his domino mask. “Ambush. Shot. Concussion. Very concussion. Ankle hurts? Prolly not broken, tho. Also stabbed?”
Tim nods. “Steph, get the medical supplies. Where’s the stab wound, Jay?”
Jason points to his thigh and there is an improvised bandage keeping him from losing too much blood. Considering how well done it is, Tim figures it’s Steph’s work. He nods and starts checking his brother’s vitals and making sure there aren’t other serious wounds.
When she comes back with the supplies Tim needs, Steph has her cowl down and a somber expression. She turns off the lights for Jason’s sake, the only source of light left on being the lamp near where Tim is already ripping off a piece of Jason’s pants to have better access to his wound. Steph sits by Jason’s side and grabs his hand, much to Tim’s surprise. He’s too busy taking care of the stab wound to ask, but he doesn’t have to. Steph breaks the silence:
“I’m so sorry, Jason.”
Jason gives her a confused look. “You saved my ass?”
“Yes, but…” Steph sighs and turns to Tim. “Babs is with the Birds of Prey tonight, so I was on my own. I was messing around with my comm frequency when I accidentally got into Jason’s. I heard the mess and it sounded like he was in trouble so I panicked. I went to get him and… Well, if there was any doubt that he’s working with the Bats, there isn’t now. It was too obvious that I was protecting him.”
Jason squeezes her hand. “Hm. Pigs.”
“Right. Then the police arrived and instead of leaving right away I stopped to make sure Jason wasn’t bleeding to death. More than a few cops saw me patching him up.”
Tim sighs. Well, shit. 
“It’s not your fault, Steph,” Tim says. “I mean… he literally wears a bat on his chest. People were bound to find out it isn’t just to stick it to Batman.”
“Is too,” Jason mumbles.
Tim ignores him. “The situation isn’t ideal, but we all prefer people knowing Red Hood is associated with the Bats than him being dead.”
“I died before.”
“We know, Jay.”
“Do not recommend.”
“We know, Jay.”
Steph fidgets a bit, still looking guilty, but ultimately nods. Tim is about to start stitching Jason’s wound closed when she says: “There’s more. You, hm, you know Renee Montoya?”
“The one valid pig,” Jason says. “I like her.”
“She was there. She helped a ton keep the other cops away from us before we could escape,” Steph says. “I think she wanted to check on Jason and…”
Tim stops moving. He knows Montoya, worked with her before and she’s a nice woman. That being said, she doesn’t have any connections to Hood. Why would she… Oh. The gay rumors. Damn wlw/mlm solidarity.
“What happened?” Tim asks, already fearing the worst.
“Hmmm, we’ll tell you, but I’m concussed, so you have to promise you won’t be mad.”
“Jason.”
Jason sighs. “Well. She asked about our relationship and… Hm. I might have told her we’re brothers.”
Tim stares at them. Steph is cringing and Jason is too out of it to care. At this point… Tim starts laughing, making the other two - even the concussed one - frown in worry.
“Aw, man,” Tim says between chuckles.  “What the fuck, am I right? I’m too old for this. Who cares? Not me! Fuck it. Fuckety fuck fucky-fuck.”
“I think we broke him,” Steph whispers even as Tim resumes stitching his brother.
They went from not-sure-if-real to a freaking cop knowing about their family in the span of a week. Tomorrow #TimDrakeIsRedRobin could be trending on Twitter and Tim wouldn’t care. Not anymore. Let them come.Literally everyone in his friend circle is a vigilante, a hero or a criminal at this point, he doesn’t even care about endangering anyone.
 It takes actually two days for it to hit the news. He’s alone in his office when Tam texts him a link to Gotham Gazette online. Judging by the lack of other words, Tim figures she’s cutting ties with him again.  
The newest article has no actual pictures, but a sketch of Red Hood standing with his guns pointed at the viewer and Red Robin standing behind him, his face only partially turned. The thing looks more like superhero fanart than an official sketch, but that never stopped Vicki Vale before.
 VIGILANTE FAMILY? by Vicki Vale
Red Robin, one of Gotham’s many masked vigilantes, was cause of intrigue recently. Many  people noticed the hero doing his work around Red Hood’s territory, something not even Batman dares on the regular. Speculation turned into a craze of theories when both red-themed vigilantes were caught sitting on a roof sharing a meal from Batburger and many thought perhaps there was more than your regular vigilante team up. 
Turns out the hero and the mob boss aren’t lovers, against popular belief. When questioned about the nature of their relationship, Red Hood snapped and confirmed one of the less popular theories: the two men are, in fact, related. “Red is right and he should say it,” said Red Hood to a bewildered policewoman. “Of course he’d say it’s [REDACTED] gross, he’s my little brother.” When asked about the conversation overheard by our reporter, the policewoman in question refused to give any more details and requested to remain anonymous.
It’s hard to be sure how such development came to be. The Red Hood has been active in Gotham for years as a mob boss and, more recently, a vigilante and ally to Gotham’s bats. While Red Robin is a newer vigilante, could it be that he was trained by the Red Hood? And how do the two brothers fit with Gotham’s oldest vigilantes? Unlike his older counterpart, Red Robin has been often spotted working side-by-side with the likes of Batgirl and Robin, making some question whether Red Robin is distancing himself from his criminal brother. However, sources spotted Hood being aided by Batgirl more recently. Could it be that his former sidekick is bringing Red Hood closer to the side of justice? More on the Red Twins as the story develops.
 THE BIRDNEST
spoiler alert: RED TWINS
WonderWing: R E D  T W I N S
send me a Signal: ~ * R E D T W I N S * ~
in the hood: uhhhh my bad?
yumm: dis is great
yumm: now im hoods stranged sidekick
yumm: i fucking hate u jason.
in the hood: hey, if you didn't want to be my sidekick you should've picked another color
yumm: screw u u dont own the color red
in the hood: I was born first
yumm: u died first 2
WonderWing: Tim!
spoiler alert: oof 
send me a Signal: wow Tim that was too far
in the hood: I’ve never been prouder to be your brother I taught you so well Timmy
send me a Signal: … I stand corrected. I sometimes forget everyone in this family is clinically insane
 “Hey Tim. There is discourse about you and Jason now.”
Tim lets out a whimper. 
“So apparently some people still ship you two. But those people are being cancelled because shipping incest is problematic.”
“Steph, are you planning on going home? I noticed you took one of my drawers.”
“There’s fanart of you two.”
“I don’t want to see it. That'll scar me for life."
“I’m DMing it to you. By the way there is civilian Red Robin fanart and for some reason they made you blonde.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I guess it’s more fun to ship people with different hair colors. Should we dye your hair?”
“Why.”
“That way when you finally hook up with Co-”
“Finish that sentence and I kick you out of this apartment for good.”
 With the cat out of the bag, they start doing different damage control. 
Red Hood is now openly working with the Bats, so Steph and Cass dismantle Hood’s former safehouses around Gotham which mostly means getting Jason’s books and bringing them to Tim’s place. Jason suggests the places should be converted into something useful for the neighborhood, such as libraries or a community center of sorts, so Tim starts working on what needs to be done by WE to make that reality. Tim also makes sure Bruce pretends not to know Jason is using a lot of money illegally acquired to getting himself new hideouts.
They dance around the topic a lot and nothing is really said until Steph brings it up. Steph, whose mother returned days ago. Steph, that definitely doesn’t want Jason to leave, because apparently she suddenly has a new favorite ex-Robin. Steph, that is currently eating homemade waffles in Tim’s kitchen, even though Tim is 83% sure she didn’t sleep over last night.
“Why doesn’t Jason just moves in?” she asks.
When neither boy replies immediately, she continues:
“I mean, it’s more practical, isn’t it? Tim’s place is already secure, he has a hero hideout downstairs and you two already work together all the damn time. Tim’s office can be converted into a room for Jason, because, let’s face it, I spend most of my free time here and Tim never uses it. I once saw him take his laptop with him to the bathroom and then return to the kitchen table instead of using the office. We wouldn’t even have to take the shelves, because Jason would fill them.”
They exchange a look. 
“You know, she’s right,” Tim says. He shrugs like it’s no big deal, really.
He isn’t nervous at all while Jason stands there, his expression unreadable. It’s not like he enjoys way too much having his brother around and got way too comfortable with having a roommate and a half (if you count Steph) on the past weeks. Tim doesn’t care, he’s cool like that.
“I mean. I guess having you as a roommate beats living alone,” Jason finally says.
Tim fails to hide his grin. “We can start working in turning the office into a room this weekend.”
Jason smiles back and messes his hair. 
Tim’s first theory is that Steph wants Jason off the couch so she has an official place to sleep, because apparently Jason’s cooking is that good.
His second theory is that she noticed how happy Tim is to finally share a house with family. The Wayne Manor had been home for a while, sure, but despite Alfred’s best efforts the place wasn’t the coziest. It wasn’t the same as sharing an apartment with a brother, bickering about sharing chores and openly discussing their night jobs before shifting the conversation to a video game they want to buy. Sharing actual meals and making sure one another wouldn’t end up dead in a ditch.
Tim decides to stick with his first theory, after all it’s easier for Steph to make Red Twins jokes if Jason and Tim are under the same roof. 
 Even without new gossip, the idea of vigilante brothers is too interesting for the general public to let go. Tim and Jason start acting mostly in the shadows and having no interaction with civilians at all and they’re still the topic of Gotham’s variety shows and online discussions from time to time.
Because they don’t slip again, Bruce has yet to bring up the subject with Tim, but the mystery remains. Who listened to all those conversations and how? Tim keeps expecting the other shoe to drop, to get a message demanding ransom for their secret identities, something,  anything , but nothing happens. Nothing freaking happens and he’s never been this frustrated.
That is, until, it happens. The ultimate betrayal. 
Dick’s next visit coincides with the time Cass is over for the week. Because Bruce is secretly a sap in the wrongest way, he suggests they all go patrolling together. Such great family time. 
Despite their initial protests, they must all be the same kind of freak, because they all agree. They split up soon to cover more ground, but keep their comms on so it still feels they’re all in a big menacing group. 
Red Robin is somewhere near the crime alley when Nightwing announces he noticed some of Two Face’s goons getting into a building. He checks his wrist pad for their locations and notices Nightwing isn’t that far from where he is. The next closest person is Red Hood.
“I’ll take care of it,” Nightwing says over the comms.
“Negative. Two Face himself might be there,” Batman intervenes. “Wait for backup. The Red Twins--” And he stops himself as though realizing what he’s saying.
“Batman!?” Red Robin gasps in a betrayed voice. 
Nightwing is already having a laughter fit over the comms almost drowning the sound of Bruce’s disappointed sigh.
“I’m sorry, Red,” his father says and he even forgets to use Batman’s scary voice. “Nightwing and Batgirl have been saying it so much that-”
“Save it,” Hood groans. “And stop laughing, Jerkwing!”
The worst part is knowing that, even if he solves the mystery, the Red Twins thing is probably going to follow him to his untimely death. 
 Tim all but lost hope when he gets an email from Barbara. “To my favorite Red Twin” says the subject. He groans, but opens the email, because one does not simply ignore a message from Oracle. Then he almost drops his phone. 
Attached there is a grainy picture of a young woman talking to Vicki Vale. The image had certainly been enhanced digitally as it’s probably from a shitty security camera, but you can still see the woman’s face clear as day. She looks like she’s handing Vicki something, her shoulders tense and her expression wary. The body of the message is, most likely, the woman’s personal info. Her name is Lisa Harris. She is 27 years old. She lives somewhat close to Jason’s territory. And, most importantly, Babs added to the end of the message:
The picture is from the night before the Red Twins article ;) Vicki didn’t talk to anyone other than her coworkers and our pal Lisa on that night.
Jason comes out of his room when Tim trips on the coffee table in his hurry to stand. “What’s up?”
Tim hands him the phone. Jason’s eyes grow wide. “I don’t care about subtlety. We’re both going after this chick.”
“Agreed.”
“Should we wait for Steph? She’s gonna be mad that we went when she’s in class.”
“Jason, Steph doesn’t live here.”
“Doesn’t she, though?”
“We’re not waiting for Steph. She’s not involved.”
“Aight, but when she’s bitching I’m gonna say I remembered her and you said no.”
 They leave their bikes behind first for stealth sake, but mostly because the place they’re going isn’t that far from their place. Tim shivers at the thought of someone so dangerous living near him. He wonders what kind of information Lisa might have gathered and for how long she’d been watching them. Is she a new enemy? Perhaps a member of the league?
The shitty building she lives in doesn’t suggest that. It’s just another grimy Gotham apartment complex that didn’t age well. The place they’re looking for doesn’t have a balcony, only a useless fire escape so rusty it would probably crumble under any sign of flames. It’s a perfect hiding spot, because nothing suggests a villain lives there. It’s just a building, home to many underpaid bachelors, nothing too suspicious about it.
Red Robin reminds Hood of that before they nod to each other and split. Jason goes into the building with a ton of confidence, for such a big guy trying to go unnoticed. Tim uses his grapple to reach the right window, not trusting that fire escape for even a second. 
The window is open and he finds himself looking at a place not that different from the one Jason lived before moving in with Tim. Mismatched furniture of the living suggests whoever lives there didn’t have money for fancy decor or that they don’t mind how the place looks. However, something about the place looks… well, lived in. It doesn’t look like a criminal temporary hideout, but rather someone’s place.
As he hesitates, a woman walks in. The woman of the picture, Lisa Harris. Her long blonde hair had been tied in a knot on top of her head and she’s getting ready for bed, if her oversized T-shirt and pajama pants say anything. She’s holding a bowl of cereal.
She reminds him of Steph and that causes him to hesitate for a second. What if this girl is innocent? Their evidence is circumstantial. Maybe she just happened to talk to Vicki Vale at the wrong time.
That hesitation costs him dearly. The woman appears to feel his eyes burning the back of her head. She glances at the window and their gazes meet.
Crap. 
Lisa inhales sharply and drops her cereal bowl. Before he can reassure her of anything, she’s bolting for the door. He pats himself in the back for his backup plan, because just as she opens the door she runs right into Red Hood’s chest. Lisa stumbles backwards, her expression horrified.
“Knock knock?” Hood quips.
She lets out a squeak and guilt makes Tim wince. Once again he opens his mouth to tell her they’re not here to hurt her when she… vanishes. 
She simply disappears right in front of their eyes.
“Shit, she’s a meta,” Hood hisses. 
Red Robin’s thoughts fly a thousand miles per hour, finally making the conexions he stupidly missed for so long. Of  freaking course.  He was so used to dealing with a bunch of idiots in colorful costumes and assassins and whatnot he hadn’t taken in consideration that ninjas aren’t the only exceptional enemies they face. And if his theory is correct. 
“She’s still here,” he says. “If I’m right, she can turn invisible. That’s how she’s been listening to private conversations.”
A soft gasp follows his statement and Hood is moving almost as fast as Red Robin’s insights. An invisible woman is still solid and her clumsy footsteps are still audible, so on the moment that follows Jason seems to embrace air. 
“No!” She cries out, flashing in and out of sight for a few seconds.
“Careful,” Red Robin warns.
Hood is wearing his helmet, but Tim knows him well enough to know his brother is glaring at him as if saying  duh?  
Lisa tries to stomp on Hood’s feet, she squirms and grunts, but he doesn't budge. Apparently invisibility is her only power and she looks terrified.
“It’s okay!” Red Robin hurries to say. “We’re not going to hurt you!”
She turns her frantic gaze to him. Her brown eyes suddenly become watery. 
Shit.
“Hood, let her go,” Red Robin says. 
“Seriously?”
“Yes. You’re not going to try to escape again, are you, Lisa? We just want to ask a few questions.”
He wishes they had waited for Steph.
Lisa hesitates, paralysed, but slowly nods. Her eyes never leave Red Robin once their gazes met, not even to check whether Hood is going to let her go or not.
“Hood,” he calls again. 
Groaning something about being too trusting, Jason lets her go. He is gentle about it, too, making sure to let her feet touch the floor carefully instead of simply dropping her. Regardless, as soon as she’s left to stand on her own legs, her knees give in and she drops on the floor. At that, Tim can tell even Jason is hiding guilt behind his helmet.
He shakes his head to regain focus and crouches in front of the woman. If at this point they just apologize and leave, they’ll have traumatizes this poor woman for nothing.
“Lisa Harris,” he starts. “That’s your name, right?”
She trembles when he says her name and that should have been the first red flag. He blames it on the stressful situation and moves on.
“I’m sorry for startling you,” he says. He keeps his expression empty, even if he again can tell Jason is cringing at the understatement. “No one here is going to hurt you. We just want some answers. Is that alright?”
Her hands are balled tightly on her lap as though she’s making a lot of effort not to move them - perhaps to punch them, defend herself? But again she doesn’t look prone to start a fight.
“You’re him,” she whispers, her voice heavy with… something. It almost sounds like affection. “You’re really the Red Robin. In my room.”
That  red flag is harder to ignore. He is about to check for other shock symptoms when Hood calls.
“Hmm… Red? Are you seeing that?”
He follows his brother’s gaze… and his chin drops. On the wall opposite to the door hangs a giant corkboard. On the corkboard, held by black and red tacks there are dozens of Red Robin pictures. Some blurry, some taken from so far that you can barely be sure it’s really Red Robin or not, the infamous picture of the thumb war (demon horns had been disturbingly scribbled on Jason on that one) and… He doesn’t have words. 
“You’re my hero!” Lisa claims.
“Is he? I couldn’t tell,” Hood says.
Red Robin punches his knee, which is all he can reach from where he is, and turns his attention to the woman in front of him.
“Lisa, for how long have you been following me?”
“Since you saved me,” she says. “Well… Hm. You didn’t save me. But you stopped a heist at the Central Bank a couple of months ago and I was there. I could've died without you.”
Aw, crap on a stick.
“Do you… do you know who I am?”
“You’re Red Robin,” she repeats.
“He’s asking about his identity behind the mask.”
The way she glares at Jason doesn’t suggest she had been shaking in fear moments ago. “He’s Red Robin,” she insists. “I don’t need anything else.”
“If you don’t know… how do you have so many…” Hood gestures vaguely at her creepy corkboard.
“I did detective work,” she says and glances at Red Robin as if expecting a pat on the back. “I noticed you always go on patrol on mondays, wednesdays, fridays and saturdays. Then if I wandered around long enough… It was just a matter of hard work and bit of luck, really.”
Damn. Now that Tim thinks about it, the one time he went on patrol spontaneously was also the night Vicki Vale found him by coincidence rather than magically knowing what happened. 
“Fuuuuck,” Hood groans. “I told B patrol schedule was a dumb idea!” Then, in a deep growly voice, “ It’s a matter of efficiency Hood, don’t be paranoid. Who’s paranoid now, Batloser?”
“Not the time, Hood.”
“Right. Proceed.”
Red Robin sighs. “Why did you sell my pictures to Vicki Vale?”
At that, Lisa looks suddenly ashamed. “I.. I’m sorry. I thought… I thought you were  involved  with  him  and I panicked. I thought… I thought seeing what it would do to your reputation would make you see that he’s not good enough for you.”
“Rude.”
“Hood.”
“What? She is.”
“I was trying to learn more about him, you know? I was. When I found out he was your brother, I realized you had no option, right? Family is family. I even told the news again to clean your record.”
So he had a stalker. A stalker concerned about his love life, no less, that’s… great. Just great. Of all the scenarios he considered they’d have to face, this is not one of them. Before he decides what to do, however, Lisa speaks up again. 
“You sound so… nice.”
Tim stares at her in confusion, unsure whether to thank her or not. Regardless, she didn’t sound like she was complimenting him.
“I mean… aren’t I supposed to be?”
“No! I mean… you’re… you’re dark and brooding and serious and you don’t waste time with civilians unless forced…” She frowns and Tim figures she’s thinking about the night with the strippers. “You’re… the night.”
Jason snorts. Tim punches his knee again. “Lisa, I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of Batman, not me.”
Her expression twists in such fury both vigilantes prepare to restrain her, but instead of directing her anger at them, Lisa scoffs.
“Don’t  get me started on Batman! All that crap about being mysterious and working alone? Then he joins the freaking Justice League? Just… Batman, in the middle of a bunch of rainbow wearing clowns. And then… all those freaking kids. Why does he have so many kids?”
“Lady, we ask ourselves that everyday,” Tim admits.
Lisa is wearing the same expression Krystal had when Red Robin denied his relationship with Hood.
“I’m sorry, Lisa, I’m grateful that you admire me, but you can’t keep following me like this.”
Her eyes teary again, Lisa swallows dry. “Clearly, if you’re  sorry  about it.”
They can’t exactly take her to Arkham for taking pictures. Tim feels less bad about the whole thing when the woman stands and starts telling them in a  very loud voice  to get the hell out of her house.
“Fine,” Jason says, heading to the corkboard. “But I’m taking this.”
“Take it,” she shouts. “I don’t need it anymore. You’re  just like Batman!”
And that’s how Red Hood and Red Robin find themselves standing in the middle of a dusty hallway, Hood with a conspiracy board under his arm. 
Well, that happened. 
 In the end, Steph  was  furious about them going to the stalker’s house by themselves, but there was not a lot she could do except doodle on every picture of the stalker board. 
There must be something very wrong with their sense of humor, because their text group becomes a mess of jokes about the stalker Robin being stalked. At that Tim has no problem exercising Jason’s lessons in holding grudges and refuses to help them with any of their cases unless they stop it. The thing is that all of them find the whole thing hilarious.
All of them except Duke.
“Give it a while,” Tim tells him. “You’re the most recent acquisition to the family. In due time your idea of funny will be just as warped as ours.”
“Hm. When was the last time you slept, Timmy?” Duke asks.
“Tuesday.”
“Today is Tuesday.”
“Hahahaha yeah.”
“... Jaaaaasooon! Come over here! Tim is going into The Ring territory! Do something about it!”
Bruce doesn’t find it funny either. He isn’t happy that there’s a deranged meta he didn’t know about, but Tim thinks that was the least surprising part of the whole ordeal. He reckons a lot of metas doesn’t want to be a hero or a villain, they’re just regular people that live regular lives and happened to win in the metagene lottery. 
Or… well. In Lisa’s case, not so regular.
And that’s why upon hearing the story for the first time, Bruce  completely freaks out. He starts considering possibilities from scaring the woman as Batman - “That’s a terrible idea, dad, you heard she likes that shit,” says Dick over facetime - or having her arrested - “Father, having bad taste in men is hardly a crime. She has yet to do anything to harm Timothy” Damian helpfully reminds him - and finally to fill out a restraining order - “For who, Karen?” Jason snaps. “Red Robin? Or you want to walk into that nut job and tell her she’s not allowed near Tim Drake-Wayne?”
Long story short, it’s chaos. Tim has had enough of a crazy night, so he sits back near the training area of the cave and sips the tea Alfred made him. Bruce is doing Tim’s stressed out circuit, pacing back and forth around the cave while his children follow him - Damian is holding the phone higher than his head so Dick can talk to Bruce at eye level - and they try to talk him out of doing anything stupid.
Most of them, anyway. It looks like Duke is definitely looking into the possibility of a restraining order.
Cass detaches herself from the mess and heads towards Tim. She looks calm, as Cass always does, and some of that calm transfers to him. When she takes a seat by his side, he smiles at her.
“Okay?” she asks. 
Tim shrugs. “Weirded out, mostly. I’ll be fine.”
She points at her then signs Tim’s house as a question. She’s asking him if he wants her to come over.
While Cass is one hell of a bodyguard, Tim thinks of Steph, who’s most definitely playing with his video games back at home, and of Jason, whose schedule mostly matches Tim’s, hence he is, more often than not, at one shout of distance. Tim can’t think of any place that feels safer than his home right now.
“I’m fine. Jay and Steph are taking care of me. I’ll just have to be twice as careful during patrol,” he says.
Cass nods, satisfied. She gives him a forehead kiss and leans against his side. The two of them watch their family yell at each other for the next ten minutes, matching serene smiles on their faces.
 Bruce settles for keeping Lisa under occasional watch. 
Barbara stalks her online and finds that Lisa has left a Red Robin fanclub (Tim did not know those existed) and closed all of her threads on the Red Robin subreddit (Tim knew about those, but kept his distance), making it seem that learning that Red Robin is just a polite-ish kid really killed her love. 
Bruce says he’ll keep tabs on her because he know she’s a meta, it’s not like he’s being overprotective, he totally knows Tim can take care of himself, really. 
Other than that, Bruce is way too happy about Jason’s new living arrangement. He even  almost smiles. 
 Tim… is fine. The whole thing is creepy, for sure, but he finds out that his siblings making so many jokes about it makes it easier to handle. Yay for their unhealthy coping mechanisms. 
He doesn’t think he will ever be okay with media, though. It’s annoying enough that he has to deal with reporters as Tim Drake-Wayne, he definitely doesn’t need the attention as Red Robin. 
Luckily for him, his siblings help him with that too. One time he’s wrapping a gang bust with Nightwing when a reporter comes running towards them, begging for a few answers. Red Robin cringes inwardly realizing there are no close buildings to use his grapple, but before he can say anything, Nightwing squeezes his shoulder. 
“Go, Timmy. I’ve got this.”
Tim smile. “Thanks, Dick.”
And he leaves the silent and swift way only a Bat can do. 
 Things are great. As great as they can be in Gotham, at least. Tim wakes up at 9am - an early time for a vigilante, but he got at least 5 hours of sleep, so that’s something - and heads to the kitchen. He finds Steph (who still swears she doesn’t live with them) and Jason bickering over pancakes they’re making. Smiling to himself, Tim mumbles a good morning and starts washing the dirty dishes from last night.
The peaceful morning is interrupted by Steph’s phone buzzing. She use a paper towel to clean her hands before checking it and…
“Uh… Timbers?” she calls.
He freezes, the pan he’s washing suddenly forgotten. “What now?”
Steph is trembling with contained laughter when she hands him the phone. Duke just sent her a link to a news article. Tim clicks and finds himself staring at the headline RIVALRY BETWEEN HEROES? followed by a clear picture of Nightwing and a blurry shot of Red Robin.
The article follows:
After dealing with an infamous gang of contrabandists that operated near Gotham’s harbor, Nightwing and Red Robin went their separate ways without much courtesy. Despite the short collab, it appears that Red Robin didn’t appreciate Nighwing’s help, his farewell words being a sarcastic “thanks” followed by calling Bludhaven’s hero a “dick”.
Tim raises his eyes to the other two. Steph is hiding her face into the crook of Jason’s neck, her shoulders still trembling a bit. Having read the article over Steph’s shoulder, Jason is biting his lip.
Tim deadpans: “This is the funniest shit that ever happened to me.”
The three of them explode in laughter and they cackle for a good minute, until the three of them are breathless and their cheeks hurt.
“I-I want to print that and frame it,” Steph manages between giggles. “Let’s hang it on the living room.”
“Good… ahaha… Good work, Timbers,” Jason says, smiling wide. “For that, you can have extra pancakes.”
Tim is still grinning when he goes back to his dish duty. Maybe being under the media attention isn't so bad after all.
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kingdomofbretonxrpg · 4 years
Text
Plot twist: it was the gun in the library
Parties: Shooter, Adelaide Robinson, Duke of Maine, Duchess of Anjou, Duchess of Nantes, Aramis Gagne and Kit Chareonsuk
Date: August 22nd
Location: The Library Event
Triggers: Guns, Shooting, Murder, Death, Attempted Murder, Assault, Graphic thoughts, Shock, Violence, and Blood
To be entirely fair, he wasn’t the type for libraries. When on the job, his focus was intense. If he had been paying greater attention, he would have noted the tasteful decorations and prettily garbed attendees. He had a single task to accomplish while in Vannes but couldn’t resist toying with that little bastard a bit. The little note. It amused him. Useless. If the prick had done his job, he wouldn’t have to be here tonight, wasting his time in this absolute tit of a country. He knew how to blend. Not pretty enough to catch anyone’s eye but not so homely as to stand out either. Neutral. He moved to the archway on the upper level, cordoned off for the event. Only preserved volumes here. He didn’t care about the books, just making certain not to inflict any damage such that his presence here would be marked in any way. Consideration out of pure convenience. He had stashed his equipment just … ah yes, there it was. Sliding on the gloves, he withdrew the firearm from the bag and slowly screwed in the silencer. Flipping up the scope, he let his eye drag through the room.
There he was. The little pissant. What the fuck was his name again? Something suitably fucking pretentious. Aramis or some shit like that. Could take him out right now. Just standing there. Pretty boy looked tense, like he could use a good ride. Too bad he didn’t have time to fuck the useless help. Now he just needed the right ‘heads’ to line up. The Duchess of Nantes or the Duke of Maine. Preferably both if he could get them in quick succession. Minimal external casualties. A dull restriction but he could live with it. Now he just had to wait ….
[More below the cut]
Adelaide was relieved. They had finally made it to the day of the event and so far, nothing had majorly gone wrong. Everyone seemed to be having a good time as they got ready for the awards and the raffle, and there was a wonderful celebratory atmosphere. There would be randomly selected winners from those who had completed the reading challenges across all different age groups. Most exciting would be the winners of the raffle for tickets to this year’s lecture series which also acted as a major fundraiser for the library.  Families from all over the city mingled with members of the major Houses, talking about everything from books to the recent sports events. It was one of the few events she knew of that were truly open to everyone.
As the time for the announcement drew near, she made her way to the front of the room, just behind the podium, in order to coordinate the people who would be announcing each of the chosen winners. As she did so, she circled around the room to make sure she caught the eye of Duchess Katarin, Duchess Anna, Duke Cyrus, and Duke Theodore so they were warned and able to start exiting the conversations they were involved in. Then she waited quietly for them to arrive so the final and most stressful part of her night would be over. 
Katarin was actually grateful that Adelaide had caught her eye. It allowed her to exit the rather dull conversation she was holding.  Excusing herself, she slipped her hand into Wendy’s and made her way to the front of the room. This event was always one of the least stressful and she was happy to support the library and Adelaide. It was the very least she could do to help announce the winners of the evening. Having Wendy by her side was absolutely a bonus, she wouldn’t settle for having the submissive hang back in the audience.
Anna had of course been to the annual event before, but this was her first time attending as a duchess. She felt like she was taking on a lot of ‘firsts’ these days. A book lover herself, she felt a pang of loss as she roamed the library and took part in different conversations. She didn’t regret what had happened, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss her former job of book editing. She had just walked away from a small group when she saw Adelaide begin to make her rounds, so it was perfect timing for her to head towards the front of the room. She offered Wendy and Duchess Katarin a smile before turning to face the crowd and look for familiar faces.
The library was one of Cyrus’ favourite places. He came here often enough and both personally and through the House of Maine, he regularly contributed to the various programs offered by the library. This particular event was delightful and it felt good to step outside the usual restrictions of the house events. As he saw Adelaide waiting, he turned to the woman beside him. Cyrus brushed a hand over Annick’s back and leaned in to murmur in her ear, “I must go be important for a moment. Don’t run away, my wild woman.” He winked and flashed a grin before setting down his glass. He walked up to the podium and leaned in to brush a kiss over Adelaide’s cheek. “You look beautiful, Adelaide. The event is wonderful. You must be so proud.”
As Cyrus leaned in to kiss her cheek, she found herself automatically grinning in response. “Really? That’s wonderful to hear. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” She allowed another knot of anxiety to fade at the genuine compliment which made it a little easier to focus on this next bit. Considering she needed to face all of the major heads of Houses at the same time, being down to approximately a half dozen sources of anxiety instead of all of them was a relief. “Thank you all for agreeing to help today. This means a lot, and it is helping to acknowledge all the hard work of both the librarians and the city’s readers. There is a basket with the names of each of the potential winners, so all you will need to do is draw a name from your respective basket and announce the winner and the category. If you need anything, I’ll be right here.”
God but these people were boring. Pretty and insipid. He really needed something interesting after this. A mob boss perhaps? Some kind of gangster, capable of posing an actual challenge. With these thoughts trickling in the back of his mind, he continued to survey the crowd, watching as some female got up on the little raised area. Good good. Perhaps something was about to happen. He shifted slightly forward as the sea of nobles began to part and allow the Heads of their Houses to step up and join the tiny female. Huh, he wouldn’t have pegged her for someone important. Strange. He lined up the sight. Perfection. As the Duke leaned forward to greet the tiny female, standing close to the Duchess of Nantes, a fine and fuckable bird if he ever saw one. Oh this was fucking ideal. One shot and he could have them both dealt with, leaving only that newbie child version of a Duchess. She’d be nice and pliable for his employers. Shouldn’t be a problem. He clicked his tongue, a bad habit he was trying to break. Shifting forward again, he lined up the shot and squeezed the trigger.
Right after she finished speaking, Adelaide took a step forward in between the Heads of Houses in order to pick up the list of events so that each of them would know what order they were going in and which awards they were reading out. But in the moment she did, she felt something punch through her right shoulder. She barely registered the pain before she screamed and started to crumple to the ground. Flickering on the edge of consciousness, she could feel fire and wet and shooting pains ricochet out from that point. The rest of the room had almost entirely faded away as she struggled to stay present. 
It took a beat before Kat realized what was happening. She instinctively pushed Wendy behind her and shouted for her security. The room would soon dissolve chaos for certain but at the moment all she could think of was the girl crumpling at her feet. “Adelaide!” she shouted, dropping to her knees beside the girl, though she wouldn’t be much protection. She peered up from her position. “A doctor, ambulance, something. Now!”
For a moment Anna froze in shock, not fully understanding what had happened. When it sunk in that Adelaide had been shot, that someone had shot at them, she screamed for help and dropped to the ground as well. She wasn’t exactly medical personnel but she was fairly certain that pressure should be applied to a wound bleeding like that, so she put both hands on Adelaide’s shoulder and did her best to apply pressure without hurting her more. “Someone needs to find who did this. Are we safe here?” She wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular, but she couldn’t imagine waiting there like sitting ducks either. They needed to get Adelaide help.
It was a bizarre sensation, the shock that stopped him cold as he watched the submissive drop to the ground. It took him a moment to process what taken place. “Adelaide!” He exclaimed a little senselessly, since the young woman could clearly not respond. His fingers felt numb as he tried to pull his phone from his pocket and dial for emergency services. What the hell had happened? His eyes shot around the room, seeking out Annick, confirming to himself that no one else seemed to be injured. Looking over at Anna and Kat, he felt absurd as Anna pointed out the obvious. The phone still pressed to his ear, his gaze travelled upward, although if he were honest, he had no sense of where the shooter would have been standing. The entire moment felt utterly surreal. “Security will deal with it. I can’t imagine anyone would be foolish to hang around after this … she wasn’t … she couldn’t have been the target.” It was a surprisingly sensible statement given how uncertain he felt at this moment. He let the phone at his ear clatter to the ground. “Help is on the way. We just need to keep her stable until they get here.” he shared quietly.
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck … the fucking little twit had stepped forward at the exact wrong moment. He had a glorious shot lined up but no, the bitch had to get in the way. This thought ricocheted through his mind as he moved swiftly through the swelling crowd, fleeing the event. When he felt pressed, he tripped some old bat wearing diamonds and knocked her into the rest of the crowd. They could help her or trample her, he could care less. He was merely looking for an opening. He stepped to the side and right into the little pissant. “Enjoying your night.” He managed to growl. He felt no guilt, merely the irritation of having to now owe his bosses for fucking up this stupid job that he hadn’t fucking wanted in the first place. All because this little piece of shit couldn’t do his work right. The deflection was comfortable.
The second that Aramis heard the gunshot, Armand’s words instantly played into his head. You won’t like how I choose to handle things. He’d been paranoid for the last couple of days now, expecting another set of goons to come after him. But this…? This was entirely different. Someone else had been hurt and it was all his fault.
Aramis felt his blood boiling; it was one thing to hurt him or even kill him - he’d gotten himself into this mess. The very least he felt he could do was get a form of justice for Adelaide. Familiar with the look of Armand’s goons, he scanned the crowd and managed to find the shooter. “Stay here,” he commanded Kit, leaving the sub’s side to push through the crowd.
It wasn’t hard to find his target. As soon as the other man quipped at him, Aramis shoved him back. “You fucking animal,” he growled. “I swear to God, I am going to kill you.” He stalked toward the shooter, intent on doing just that.
Kit had been on edge all night with the note Armand had sent Aramis on his mind. When he heard the gunshot, his anxiety peaked, and he naturally held onto Aramis, desperate to make sure he was okay, that this Armand guy hadn't hurt him again.
But it wasn't Aramis who'd been hurt. Instead, Aramis was giving him a command as he ran off to face an armed shooter. No, no, no, no, no, Kit thought over and over in his head, following Aramis as best he could through the chaos. He lost Aramis for a second, and panic rose in him again, before he caught sight of his boyfriend and pushed his way through. "Aramis, don't!" he called out with a voice that broke midway.
Oh this was fucking gorgeous. He was looking forward to smashing the pretty little pissant’s face as Aramis surged toward him. The crowd made it difficult to move through with ease but still his hand itched to get a few hard blows in. Then he heard a man call out for the pissant. Glancing over, his shit-eating grin widened. “Yours?” He taunted, laughing as he did so, knowing damn well the little fuck toy was the perfect ammunition. “Careful. He’ll end up joining the tiny girl in the morgue.” A fresh flood of people separated him from his target, stepping back to avoid getting trampled by fleeing nobles and their companions. “Soon pretty boy … don’t you worry… we’ll see each other again real soon.” He called out.
Adelaide was only vaguely aware of what was happening around her as the pain in her shoulder seemed to spread to take over her whole focus. She could hear the people close to her shouting and people farther away screaming. Mixed in with all of that were the growing sound of sirens. Coming back into focus for a moment, Adelaide reached over and grabbed Kat’s hand, not caring if it was too familiar or anything. “Don’t - don’t let my parents find out on the news. Ok? They’ll...they’ll handle it badly.” It took more of an effort to say that than she had expected. But moments later, a medical team was rushing in, pushing the nobility out of the way so they could get her onto a backboard to get her out to the ambulance. Mercifully, that was when she finally fainted. 
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cryptid-jack · 4 months
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Quickish drawing of Hastur Ward from my webnovel. "The Duke's Bastard is a Mob Boss" that I wrote for the True Love On Tapas contest. Check out the link in my pinned post!
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