#any time bruce and jason disagree jasons like 'excuse me which one of us is the college drop out and which of us is a practicing attorney?' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

psychovigilantewrites · 3 years

Text

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt.

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”

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forestlingincorporated · 2 years

Text

History of Catlad in DC fandom

So, I noticed a fair number of people asking where the Catlad idea originated.

...Yeah, I can’t tell you that, with certainty. Catlad was already a “thing” when I joined the fandom. But it made me curious, so I did a little digging.

Seemingly, the first his for the term “catlad” initially appeared to be February of 2012. However, trying to find very old tumblr posts is a nightmare, which is where I suspect it originated, so I went to the next logical place - AO3.

The EARILIEST fics for Catlad!Tim are actually post-dated to 2005 (we know it’s a postdate because AO3 wasn’t created until 2008). The first one, Forty Thieves credits the Timfinity challenge on livejournal as the original reason behind the fic. He’s actually not called Catlad or Stray in this one, he’s called the Cat, just to add another to the growing list of varying codenames this one AU has, lmao.

In the Catlad tag sans any particular batboy, the earliest is credited as based off of heartslogos’ Catlad AU, but after scouring their tumblr, I wasn’t able to find a post suggesting they started the au, just that they were a prolific writer and supporter of it on tumblr.

I even made sure to check the other boys’ tags, but Tim is definitely the originator. All the other brothers’ catlad tags only go back to 2015, which is a bit odd, to be honest. I’d have to assume there may have been a spike in Catlad!Tim visibility in that year or something to inspire the others.

Now... where did this concept come from. I wasn’t able to find the original posting for the 2005 fic, so, you know, idk. It seems to have been a subset of TimKon fics initially, as well as gen/found family fics.

As someone who likes this AU, while Tim might not be anyone’s initial choice as Catwoman’s sidekick (Jason comes to mind as the obvious street kid who’d fit her schtick, and then Dick is viewed as more of the ‘sexy one’, and Damian... well, likes cat) I personally think this au took off (aside from being an excuse for sexy times in catsuits) for two reasons:

One: Tim is more... segmented with his personality than other characters are. If you read his comics, Tim is often depicted as not viewing himself AS Robin, rather he sees Robin as a role he plays, like an actor. The idea is appealing because it takes Tim’s tendency to “put on” the Robin persona and “become” Robin to a further extreme - Catlad is about as far from Tim’s civilian personality as you can get, so the change is more dramatic and obvious. This is one for the identity porn fans out there.

And two: Tim kind of imprints on people? He just sort of imprints on Dick and Batman as a three-year-old and it maps out his entire life from there. I know some people have a hard time seeing Tim as a thief, but Tim honestly tends to use external influences, like Bruce or the Titans, as his moral compass, and Tim has been shown multiple times to go full dark side For The Greater Good villain when those influences are ripped out from under him, and he’s also more willing to bend the rules when his persona isn’t as a hero (like his arc as Red Robin, which he saw as a ‘tainted’ mantel). It’s not hard for me to imagine a world where he imprints on Selina at a young age for one reason or another and just... uses her as his moral compass, and is okay breaking the law because that’s the persona he’s chosen to adopt as part of what he sees as a greater good. Is it a big change, yes, but it’s not strictly out of character, and that’s sort of the nature of big turning point AUs.

But, that’s just my guess. Maybe’s it’s just that he looks pretty in the costume, but it clearly resonates with people for one reason or another. That’s just my take on why it works well, but someone who sees Tim differently might disagree.

#tim drake #catlad

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wesavegotham · 3 years

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So don’t hate me but I’m kinda liking damian’s animated versions better than his comic one I really like his comic one but after all the shit happening where he has been nerfed nonstop getting beat by Thomas Wayne Batman, the teen titans red hood (although Jason attacked from behind like a bitch) and now flatline beating him. Not to mention Bruce not being a father and Damian now Being blamed for everything when they all have no room to talk. God I was satisfied when his old team died in future.

This is going to be a really long post, my apologies in advance.

I absolutely get where you’re coming from. I personally still like comic Damian more because I feel like there is more nuance and layers to him compared to the animated universe Damian, but that is simply the fault of the limited time they could spent on him in the movies.

Movie!Damian certainly wins more fights than comic!Damian and was never regressed in any way that is comparable to the shitshow that was Teen Titans (2016).

You’re adressing a problem I have with comic!Damian too right now, a problem that I’ve already talked about with some people here on tumblr in private. Which is that for all the talk about what Damian can do the comics have rarely shown all those skills Damian should have being used in the actual story in recent years and that is frustrating. I find Damian’s arrogance interesting as long as I feel like he can at least back it up in some way, but in recent time he comes off as just an idiot because he has done almost nothing but fail and lose and the writers still have him act like he’s the greatest. But it doesn’t feel like he can back up his confidence anymore. At all.

If I had to name a skill that differentiates Damian from the other Robins right now then I could only list his skill to hide from Batman and that is a skill he only has for plot convenience. We don’t see him do anything to cover his tracks, we are only told that he somehow did it. And I’m pretty sure that the second this skill stops being convenient for the story it will vanish once again. It will probably end like it did with Jon, where Damian somehow hid so well that Jon said they would never find him in Teen Titans, when they wanted an excuse for Jon to not get involved with his friend’s fall into darkness, but now that DC wanted them to interact again all of that is forgotten and Jon has no problems finding Damian.

Damian is not the most social Robin, nor the most intelligent one and considering how he seemed to lose against everything and everyone in recent years I can’t say with a straight face that he’s the best at fighting or the most skilled. And that IS a problem. Damian will never be known for his social skills or his detective skills, those niches are already taken by Dick and Tim, but in theory he should be a great fighter or a highly skilled person. Damian has sacrificed his entire life for training, both in the league of assassins and during his time with the batfamily. But if Damian sucks at fighting (as in: he loses a lot more than he wins) and his skills play no significant role in advancing the plot, then what is the point of his character? Great, he’s good at drawing and likes manga now, but how will that help with a fighting tournament? Or with solving the mystery behind the league of lazarus? A protagonist is usually supposed to be able to change the situation he is in, that is why he’s the protagonist and not someone else. So what makes Damian so unique that only he can solve the situation he finds himself in during Robin and not someone like Conner Hawke? Or what makes him unique in the batfamily? I hope Robin adresses that soon.

Of course now one could say “He still has an unique position as Bruce’s biological child”, but that also was completely irrelevant in recent years. For all the moments since the start of Rebirth that had batfam-fans complaining that Damian was favored by DC because of his status as the only biological child of Bruce, there were actually very few interactions between the two. Stuff like Bruce talking about Damian or saying that he loves him was primarily found in scenes in which Damian was not present. Or it came way too late, like in Teen Titans (and Bruce refusing to hit Damian in the face because he is his child sets such a low bar, I refuse to acknowledge that as a sign of love)

If you look at how Bruce actually treats Damian or describes him then there is little love there. He ignored his 13th birthday, did nothing when Damian left him after the events of Justice League: No Justice, it had no impact on the Batman books at all, Bruce only called Damian for missions like two times, once in City of Bane (which was just so shitty, as I already explained in a previous post) and a second time in Detective Comics #1017 (He sent Damian to find a missing kid in a snow storm, while he dealt with something else), refused to comfort him at Alfred’s wake and when Bruce reflects on what happened in Teen Titans he blames most of it on Damian’s personality, both in Detective Comics #1030 and in Robin #1, and both times there is nobody questioning Bruce’s asessment. He really doesn’t have anything nice to say about Damian and apparently we are not supposed to disagree with him. So in summary: Damian seems to have no skills that make him indispensable for the batfamily, Bruce seems to have a very low opinion of Damian’s character and now that they have decided to give us Bruce searching for Damian the only reason for that seems to be that Bruce suddenly feels responsible for his child, even though that should have already been the case when Damian seperated from him in 2018 or at least directly after the second Teen Titans annual.

Even the kinda nice things Bruce says about Damian in Robin #1 can be called into question if you think about them. He says he has no doubt that Damian can take care of himself...and then we see Damian getting his heart ripped out at the end of the very same issue. Of course we know that Damian’s story doesn’t end there, so I won’t judge this too harshly yet, but to me this didn’t come off as Damian being able to take care of himself.

And I get letting Damian lose at the start of the tournament to establish Flatline as a threat and to make it clear that this tournament is not a game. I also get that Damian’s fight against King Snake was supposed to make sure that we still think of Damian as competent even though he loses later on. But at least for me, winning against King Snake was not cool or badass enough to make up for the fact that Damian was easily killed, in front of everyone, by a literal nobody like Flatline. King Snake is an old, blind guy, that didn’t show up in any DC comic I read since I started in 2018 and that was apparently beaten by Tim in his solo comic when he was 14 back in the 90s. Sorry, but that just isn’t impressive enough for me, especially since I’ve seen Damian lose so much in recent years. It doesn’t establish Flatline as a badass, it just makes me think that Damian is not that great of a fighter and shouldn’t be in this tournament.

I have some more thoughts on the tournament that make me wish that the arc will start being less about winning the tournament itself and more about something like taking down the league of lazarus soon (mainly the fact that a fight about being the best fighter is useless if the big guns are not taking part, the fact that you can only win by killing your oponent, which should be a problem for Damian and how nothing we know about the rewards for winning, becoming part of the league of lazarus und apparently immortality, is desirable for Damian), but this answer is already too long.

I’m going to be honest an admit that I did not like the ending of Robin #1 at all and that I hope that Williamson will show Damian being competent really soon because I’m not here for another pointless arc about Damian learning humility. I want to see Damian win for once, you know, like other protagonist usually do at the end of an arc and if Damian can’t even win or tell us what’s going on with him from his point of view in a book about him then I’m probably going to feel very disappointed by this book.

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artxyra · 4 years

Note

What if Marinette goes to GA and becomes friends with damian and are known as the chaos kids. The school gets used to them. The waynes need Damian one day and when they ask for him the reply is "At (area) doing (weird thing. Example: making pokemon statues out of waffles) with Mari" they get to said area they're gone and the fam has to keep asking people where he is and keep getting crazy replies. When they find him he's arguing with her about whether winnie the pooh's fav color is red or yellow

@coolrascalhoagienerd, well I had a good laugh when I saw this and where is the making of what I thought would have worked. I hope you enjoy.

When Damian entered the halls of Gotham Academy, the first thing he notice was the change in the usual dark atmosphere. It felt oddly kinder and more lighthearted. Everywhere he turns there are whispers featuring around the new girl that recently join the school.

It’s funny how the two met that very same day. She was running down the halls in a hurry as he was walking to his next class, one that he was particular care for. They bump into each other causing a standstill in the halls. Everyone wondered how the dark prince would react to the princess of sunshine. They expected a yelling match, instead they got the best and worst of alliance ever made.

Months passed since the blooming of Damian and Marinette’s friendship and not a single student could say that there weren’t surprised. The moment Marinette had Damian under her spell, she was able to make the stoic teen become his age. It started off small with a joke here and there, then it exploded into card games followed by video games. To this day, Damian swears that he’ll beat her at a shooting game at one point to which Marinette would respond with a laugh and an over the shoulder wink. The younger Wayne would swear that he has never blush a day in his life but the photographic proof on Marinette’s phone says otherwise.

The school soon became accustomed to being Daminette’s playground. At first the teachers were opposed to the idea but after seeing how slightly more open Damian has become with the of Sunshine, they slowly agreed to the idea of allowing the dark prince and his sunshine have less strict rules.

Which brings us to this moment, Marinette swings on a swing set while Damian practice his form with a katana. Don’t ask how he manage to get it past security.

“You know, maybe we should do something wild?” Marinette says looking up to the sky with a mischief smirk on her lips.

Damian doesn’t turn to her; he only sets the blade down to his side. “What do you have in mind?”

Marinette giggles uncontrollably.

Let’s just say that whatever Marinette had in mind would rule the yearbooks for years to come.

Damian hiding his characteristic change at home was simple enough. A few death threats here and there, maybe sneaking out moments every so often. No one at the Wayne cared to pay any attention to it. It only came as shock when Damian left for school along the lines of being late. Alfred offered to take me to which Damian declined and got onto his “normal” motorcycle and speeds off.

“Does it seem that Damian is acting strange to you?” Richard “Dick” Grayson asks, pipping his down from the ceiling. He’s on the chandelier again. Poor Alfred, maybe he’ll dust the chandelier for him.

Tim walks in to with large mug in hand, no doubt filled to the brim with coffee. “Which one?” He asks taking a sip, bags are underneath his eyes.

“I do concur with Master Richard; the young master has been acting somewhat strange for quite a moment now” Alfred appears out of nowhere.

It wasn’t long before Jason manage to drag the head of the household from his lair into the mess that was slowly brewing in the main room. Alfred reprimands Jason for the uses of force as he hands Bruce Wayne a cup of coffee.

“Look, I can’t explain much, but we’re going to need Demon Spawn for something huge.” Jason says looking like a madman pulling Bruce by the arm.

“Uh, why would we need Little Bird?” Dick asks dropping onto the floor and twisting his body. “Not that I don’t mind getting Damian involved.”

“Look there’s no time to explain,” Jason facepalms and begins to push everyone towards the door despite the lack of proper wear they have on.

After one clothes change, a large of amount protest, the Wayne household now stands in front of the gates of Gotham Academy.

“Is it me or does this place look less you know Gotham-y and full of life?” Tim asks narrowing his eyes as he takes a long sip of a new cup of coffee that has been transfer into a to-go cup with Red Robin’s emblem.

“No, no, Timmy, I see it too.” Dick whispers as Jason struts past the gates and onto the school’s property.

Bruce sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Come on, let’s go get your brother so Jason can stop being Jason.”

Tim shrugs before passing the gates himself with Dick following him.

Upon entering the school, they could immediately see that it was either passing period or free time for the students.

Bruce makes his way to the attendance, where Assistant Joyce resides sitting at the desk.

“Hello Joyce, I’m here pick up Damian. He has a, ah, dentist appointment this evening.” Bruce speaks hoping that she wouldn’t catch the lie he spoke of.

“Well Mr. Wayne, Damian is, uh…” Joyce turns to someone besides her. “Do you know where Damian Wayne would be at today?”

“Try the art room.” A feminine voice answers.

Joyce turns back to the Wayne family and smiles, “He should be at the art room, it’s down the hall to your right, you should not miss it. It’s in the only hallway that has a series of artwork posted in it. Before you go, please sign here so that we know to tell the teachers not to mark Damian absent today.”

Joyce hands Bruce a sign out sheet, to which the man signs and ushers his wards to go find his youngest.

“They’re so screwed.” The same feminine voice speaks causing Joyce to break out laughing.

Well, it took a total of four different locations for the men to find the youngest Wayne.

First, they went to the art room like Joyce’s co-worker told them to. They meet with a student that says that basically told them that Damian was playing Pokémon Go near the gym, apparently, he was trying to catch a legendary Pokémon that spawned there.

So, of course, after an awkward eye contact with one another, they walk to the gym. Once again Damian was there, but a different was. He told them that Damian was making ice sculptures out of ice cream at the cafeteria. The student then goes on to explain that Damian had some amazing skills with a knife.

Jason, with wide eyes, practically shouted at the student that he was crazy, and that Damian would never, and he means NEVER do something that stupid. The student just shrugs it off like it was an everyday occurrence. It was Dick that had to hold Jason back from thrashing the teen.

By the time they got to the cafeteria, it was damn near empty aside from a few students still eating. There were no signs of ice cream or the tools that would go into making a sculpture. Tim had to ask a few students to see if Damian was in here at some point in time. It’s the workers that answers the young CEO by telling him that Damian was here earlier making sculptures out of ice cream before handing it out to students. When asked with the question that has been slowly driving the four insane, the worker replies with “Upstairs racing on these old colorful scooter board down the halls.”

It was at that moment when Tim wanted nothing to but to have a mental break down, and he would have if it wasn’t for Bruce holding him up.

So, they quickly found themselves on the second level of the school. There was no sight of Damian Wayne, though there were wheel tracks smudged into the flooring.

“Are you kidding me?” Jason shouts out into the ceiling. Thankfully, there were no students in the halls to hear it. Well that might have been the case if it wasn’t for a teacher to open their door and shush the male.

“Angel, you are desperately in the wrong here. The bear only wears one color, so it has to the color red.” It was then that they finally hear the voice of the person they have been looking for. Looking over the staircase, they find a hidden cove/nook like area and siting in it is none other than Damian Wayne himself, but he’s not alone.

“I’m telling you, Dami, Pooh’s favorite color is yellow.” The female answers before taping her fingers as makes her point. “He loves honey, which is by default a yellow color.”

“I disagree, Winnie the Pooh has been drawn on numerous of occasions with red items not yellow.” He counters.

This was not happening. Tim’s along with Jason’s exe stopped working and now they were frozen in place. The most deadliest of Wayne’s is arguing about Winnie the motherfucking Pooh’s favorite color. Bruce has no words as Dick pulls out his phone to record the whole ordeal.

Legend has it that Damian never went home that day despite being excused from classes. When he had return home, his family never spoke to him, still in shock at what they just encountered. It wasn’t until a couple of months later that Damian had introduce the family to Marinette and all hell breaks loose.

#maribat #ArtXyra answers #ArtXyra asks #daminette #ml x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #ml #mlb x dc

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awhitehead17 · 3 years

Text

Batfam Alphabet: E - Elements

Summary: Dick should know by now that a simple question will never be easily answered, not when it comes to his assortment of siblings. What starts out as a simple question soon escalates into loud petty arguments which leaves him wondering what the hell is going on.

Enjoy! :D

“That’s stupid and you’re totally incorrect!”

“I am not! That’s exactly how it would be with you guys!”

“Well I disagree.”

“You always do! This time I am right no matter what you say.”

Dick pauses from where he’s walking past the library as he hears what sounds like to be a petty argument happening. The two in there, Tim and Steph, continue to argue backwards and forwards about being right and wrong for several minutes and it’s certainly long enough for Dick’s curiosity to peak and wonder what they’re arguing about.

Deciding to find out, he walks into the library and observes the younger two. They were sat on separate couches facing one another and were both using wild hand gestures to go along with their statements. As soon as he enters their attention zeroes in on him and Dick freezes, suddenly regretting his choice of walking into the room to begin with.

From her couch Steph perks up as if spotting a perfect opportunity for something. “Dick can you settle something for us?”

Dick raises an eyebrow, feeling wary of what’s about to come. “Sure. What is it?”

“Who would bend what elements from Avatar out of you, Jason, Tim and Damian?” Steph asks eagerly.

Dick throws her a look. This is what they’re arguing about? Surely this kind of thing would be about a matter of opinion. This is on the same lines of what Hogwarts house you would be in.

“Well?” Steph prompts impatiently. On the other side of the room Tim is also looking eager for his answer.

Dick runs a hand through his hair. “Well I guess I would say I would bend air or water, Jason maybe earth or fire, Damian fire and Tim either earth or water.”

There's a moment of silence before the two teenagers explode at him and at one another.

“Ha! I told you! Dick agrees with me!” Steph exclaims loudly pointing at him.

“Excuse me! He didn’t even choose one element, his choices are invalid and ridiculous and so obviously wrong.”

“You just can’t admit you’re in the minority.”

“That is not true!”

Dick watches them bicker for a long moment, his head going from right to left like it was a tennis match. However his attention is broken away from them when Jason suddenly appears at his side. He gives his brother questioning look about it and Jason shrugs in response as he observes the scene in front of them.

“I heard yelling and it sounded interesting so I came to investigate.”

Steph and Tim continue to argue but it didn’t take long before they pulled Jason into the conversation too.

“Jason!”

“What element would you, Dick, Tim and Damian bend?”

Jason doesn’t miss a beat in answering them. “I would bend fire, Dick would bend water or air, Tim would bend earth or even fire and Damian earth.”

His opinion sets off another round of loud exclamations from both Tim and Steph. Tim jumps up to his feet with his hands in the air. “Thank you! Finally someone who agrees with me!”

“But he still agrees with some of what I said so that doesn’t count. Jason’s answers are 50/50.” Steph points out.

Dick rubs a hand across his face. He doesn’t know what is happening anymore or why this really matters. Why are they so passionate about it? Dick sends an exasperated look at Jason who merely rises an eyebrow in return.

“You know what, we need to get Damian in here and get his opinion.” Steph declares getting to her feet.

Tim glowers at her. “Why? The demon spawn isn’t going to have an answer, hell, he probably doesn’t even know what Avatar is!”

“Tim!” Dick scolds which of course goes ignored. He wishes his brothers would stop calling each other insulting names but he has a feeling it’s not going to be going away any time soon.

“Once again I am unsurprised to hear nonsense coming from you Drake.”

Everyone in the room turns to see Damian now entering the library, as if he had been summoned. He’s wearing his usual scowl and glares at the each of them in turn. He moves until he’s standing in the centre of the room where he could easily see all of them.

“I do in fact know what Avatar is. It’s a children’s programme Jon is rather obsessed with and is something he will not stop talking about.”

“Okay great, there’s one problem solved,” Steph beams at everyone, she turns to Damian expectantly, “So Dames, out of you, Dick, Tim and Jason, what elements would everyone bend?”

“Call me that again Brown and I will choke you in your sleep.” Damian snarls at her. Steph isn’t at all bothered by the threat, she smiles and continues to look at him waiting for an answer. “As for your question, I would bend the earth element, Todd would bend water, Drake would bend fire and Grayson would bend air.”

As patterns would have it, there’s a moment of silence before the room explodes into loud exclamations once again, only this time Jason adds to the fray of things. Dick watches unimpressed as the lot of them argue amongst themselves about their choices and why they are either accurate or inaccurate.

In the end Dick decides he’s had enough and exits the room, no one seems to notice his escape and Dick is more than happy with that outcome. He enters the corridor and starts making his way to the kitchen, the sounds of bickering slowly reducing in the background as he walks away.

Within the corridor Dick bumps into a lost looking Bruce. He shoots the man a grin. “Hey B, what’s up?”

“Have you seen your siblings, I can’t seem to find them anywhere.” Bruce says sounding put out.

Dick jerks a thumb pointing behind him. “All gathered in the library, but I warn you now, enter at your own risk.”

Bruce sends him a questioning look but Dick ignores it. Not elaborating what he meant, Dick continues his journey down the corridor and away from all of the crazy happening. He’ll let Bruce decide whether he wants to risk his sibling’s fury or not.

#batfam alphabet #dick grayson #Tim Drake #Stephanie Brown #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #batfam #elements #references to avatar #siblings #humour #Dick is so confused #petty arguments #bat bros #fanfiction #batfamily

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 3

Forced to their knees | Held at Gunpoint

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Ao3

-o-o-o-o-

Jason wakes up to a hand pressing down on his shoulder. Immediately, he's awake. His eyes fly open and his hand snatches the gun he keeps under his pillow like the cliche paranoid lone-wolf characters always do in the movies. Except Jason does it unironically. There’s been many times he’s woken up to an unfamiliar and leering face. A gun normally forced them to back off.

And this time is no different. Well, except the face that backs up this time, hands raising in the air in surrender, isn’t one of ill intentions. It’s of familiarity. Of goofy, lopsided, apologetic smiles and familiar eyes.

"Dick," Jason grumbles, letting the tension fall in his frame as he lowers the gun ever so slightly. Not all the way. Dick should know better than to wake Jason up so suddenly, especially if Jason's crashing in one of his safe houses in the bad parts of town like he’s doing now. Jason won't shoot him, and the idiot knows that there were only rubber bullets filling the chamber of his pistol, but it’s the thought that counts. right?

Within moments, his sleepy, adrenalin filled find catches up to him.

Dick is in his room. Dick.

Holy crap.

"Where the heck have you been?" Jason hisses, throwing off the layers of his blankets to stand up. The chilled morning air hits his bare chest, but thankfully he previously decided to hit the hay in sweats. "It's been three weeks since anyone's heard from you."

Dick shrugs, lowering his arms and keeping his stupid bright, wide smile consistent as he leans nonchalantly against the wall. "Here and there. Secret stuff, ya know?"

Jason scoffs. Yeah. He knows. Stupid Grayson and his stupid undercover missions he doesn't bother to tell anybody about. And the worst part is, Jason was actually worried about him. Everyone was. Even Bruce, seemingly, even though now Jason suspects the old man is in on it.

Fuck. Jason thought they were fine with this undercover crap years ago, after the Spyral escapade and all that shiz.

Well. Apparently, not. A swell of anger enters his throat. He lifts his weapon.

"Are you gonna elaborate on that? Or are ya just gonna stand there and watch me shirtless like a creep?"

"That's actually why I'm here, Jay," Dick says with a sigh. "To elaborate. Something… came up. I need your help."

Jason now decides to lower his gun, dropping it onto the rumpled sheets above his now depressingly-empty-of-his-sleeping-body bed.

He would love to tell Dick to go screw himself and then go back to bed. The entire family has been busting their butts with worry, trying to figure out where he's gone off to, and of course it just ends up being a super secret undercover mission. If Jason had half a mind, he'd punch Dick then drive to the manor and lock Bruce into the manor’s barn with Tim's dirty laundry for the rest of the day.

Tim might disagree, but everyone besides him has come to the conclusion that Tim's body odor is the worst . Yes they rank each other's body odor. They're boys and Cass , what do you expect? Jason holds the record of best smelling body odor and Duke can shoot his urine off the roof of the manor the furthest. It's known facts of the family.

Anyway, he gives Dick an unimpressed glare, his blood beginning to boil at the sheepish look on his face. How can he stand there knowing that everyone's been frantically looking for him and look sheepish about it?

"Go tell Daddio then, I'm not interested to deal with your bullcrap," he grumbles. "You're in this together, dig yourself out of whatever hole you've fallen in together."

"Bruce can't know," Dick says quickly. Too quickly. Sharply like he's... worried. That grabs Jason's attention. The golden boy… doesn't want to tell Bruce something?

Jason lifts an eyebrow and Dick sighs, his smile finally dropping just a bit as he reaches an arm up to rub the back of his neck. "There's a new smuggling group in town and I was put in charge of going in undercover to get information. The thing is, they found out that there was a mole. They don't know who it is, but they also don't think it's me. They trust me. But there's a woman who works with them who they do suspect. I haven't seen her in three days."

"And that means you can't go to Bruce… why?"

Dick gives him a look like Jason's not understanding something. He scowls, sighs again, then sticks his hands into his jean pockets. "They're cracking down on the signals we're putting out now. Checking our phones and such. I can't call Bruce otherwise they'll figure me out. And I can't drive to the manor because there's a higher chance of me being tracked."

"Payphone, then."

Now Dick doesn't bother to hide an annoyed expression. "Look. You're the closest and the easiest to contact. And… and this is my mission. Mine alone. I can't…"

He can't fail it.

Jason gets it.

He hates that he does.

Jason exhales sharply, already deciding he's going to regret this. "What's the plan?"

Dick's bright, plastered smile returns along with a glint in his stupid blue eyes. "I overheard some higher-ups talking about an abandoned lot by Gotham Bay, and I saw a boat covered in a tarp in one of the warehouses they use. I think they're going to drop her in the bay. We just need to get there and take them out in a way that won't lead to suspicion. Just Nightwing and Red Hood saving a girl about to be drowned out of the goodness of their hearts."

"Bold of you to assume I have a heart," Jason grunts, "but sounds solid enough. Anything about these guys I need to know about? Names? Titles? You're being awfully vague."

"Sorry, Jay-lad," Dick says smoothly, and the nickname rings in Jason's ears. "Can't have the bats catching on."

-o-o-o-o-

Jay-lad.

Jason launches himself over a two story roof down towards the empty roads lining the bay. Sometimes, during the summer, there'll be parties and picnics in the parks circumferencing the ocean, but they're few and far between. Never that much fun. Especially when it starts to rain for the twenty-billionth time that day and a dead body washes in on the shore.

Jay-lad ?

Nightwing lands besides Jason. All smiles and perfect teeth like always. The brightness of his smile shines even in the dim, harsh light of Gotham's half-assed lampposts. Ahead of them is what definitely could be described as an abandoned lot. In Jason's opinion, it looks more like someone tried to build a department store on the shore and forgot the tide exists. It's half submerged, walls rotting and the roof caved in. Graffiti of all kinds litter the walls, no attempt by anyone to ever clear it up.

Did Dick really call him Jay-lad ?

To the side of the building is a boat, floating softly right where it's just deep enough to do so. It's tied to the building though, not going anywhere for a little while longer.

Dick's never called him Jay-lad before. That's… that's Bruce's thing. Jason's always been Little Wing, or Jay bird . Names he's always hated, but might have been secretly proud of a few times in his life. Names he’s always hated, but they were Dick’s nicknames for him.

"They might be in the building trying to get last minute information out of her," Dick says, his voice still way too happy. All smiles. Perfect teeth. Jason didn't think it was odd a few hours earlier, but now it's grating on his nerves in such a specific way that he can't help but search for all the little things that's bothering him about Dick right now.

For one, the nickname.

For two, the happy go lucky attitude. The guy is optimistic, sure, but he knows when business is business . Business includes saving a woman wrongfully accused of being a spy in a group of criminals he was spying on. He should be full of guilt and anger right about now. Dick's a martyr, and he hates it when people are being hurt for something he's done.

For numero three, the way he flips over the roofs. Or well, the lack of flips. Jason didn't see him flip once . Just jump, land, jump, land, keeping up pace with Jason and not making any useless chatter along the way.

Dick's been gone for three weeks, and he comes back with a vague excuse with holes and acts… wrong.

It must be in Jason's head. It has to be.

"So we go in through the windows and get her out before we have to swim to get her," Jason says and Dick nods his head.

"Let's go," Dick says, rushing forward just like that. No jokes, no verbal announcements of why they're doing this, no keep safes .

Let's go. Just that.

Something is wrong.

Something is wrong and Jason can't figure out what.

So he goes along. Follows Dick towards the building and watches the dim windows for any movement. There's none. Which is strange. Normally, when a Gotham villain wants to get rid of a mole, they do it rather dramatically and over the top. Gotham criminals are rather proud of that status, and when someone enters their ranks pretending to be one of them they take it as a personal offence.

Regardless of that, when Dick chooses a window closest to the shore and begins wading through the water, Jason trails after, his hands twitching for the guns on his hips.

By the time they make it to the window, they're mid-thigh deep in chillingly freezing water. Dick makes a signal for Jason to stay put for a second, looks in the window, then opens it to climb through. Jason waits in the ice-cold water for Dick's signal, trying not to think about what the salt water is going to do to his pants but also definitely thinking about what he's going to do to Dick if his pants are ruined.

"Clear," comes Dick's voice after a solid minute of waiting. Jason releases an uneasy breath, ready to get out of the ocean but also still feeling like something is very, very off about this entire situation.

Jason shoves the doubts to the back of his mind, grabs onto the ledge of the window, then hefts himself up.

The first thing he notices when he enters the room is that it's dark. Empty. Dust lingering in the air. The next thing he notices is that Dick is nowhere to be seen.

The third thing is that Dick is, in fact, here, but he makes himself known by jamming a fist into Jason's throat and grabbing the collar of his leather jacket. Before Jason can recover from the attack on his neck and catch his breath, he's shoved against the far wall, away from the window.

Away from escape.

Anger puddles in Jason's gut.

"What the hell ," he snarls, his voice scratching, as he ducks under another swing. Dick's fist rams into the wall, resulting in the wall gaining some shining new cracks. The force of the punch was definitely enough to break fingers, even if properly thrown, but Dick doesn't even flinch. Just reals around with a frown on his lips and a downward, furious tilt to his brow. Jason grabs his guns, aiming them at the man he's just begun to consider family again. Dick stops in his tracks at the sight of the weapons being aimed at him and glares.

"This isn't anything personal, Jay-lad," Dick says slowly, but he doesn't make any moves to back off or surrender. He just stands there. Heartless milky eyes staring through his mask.

"There ya go again, calling me that," Jason hisses, keeping his aims steady towards Dick's chest.

"I always call you that," Dick says, and Jason almost sees green.

"No you don't," he growls. "You've never called me that. And you've been acting weird all night. Off. And now you're attacking me? What the fuck is going on?!"

And for the first time in a very long ass time, Jason watches the one expression that doesn't look pretty on Dick pass on his face. Frustration. Annoyance. Rage.

It's an expression Jason hasn't seen in years . Not since Jason was still in his early teens and still believed Robin gave him magic. Not since Dick and Bruce were at each other's throats whenever they were anywhere near each other for whatever reason. The downturn to his lips, the crinkling under his eyes, the scrunching of his nose, the sneer. It's not a good expression on Dick.

It's a terrifying one.

"You'll have to find out, wontcha, hoodie?"

And Dick charges. Teeth bared, fists clenched. Jason just manages to block the next punch with the back of his arm. He lashes out with his free hand, the one holding the gun, and attempts to toss a pistol whip. He succeeds, smacking his cheekbone with a crack . Dick's cries out, stumbling back a step before charging again, fire in his normally cool eyes.

Jason tries to hit him again, but Dick anticipates the move, hitting Jason on the inside of his arm with enough force for Jason to accidentally let go of the weapon. The gun goes sliding across the weathered floor, clanking against the far wall. He doesn't go for it, just shifts to a more hands on approach to take care of this. He throws his fist, hitting Dick along the jaw, but Dick retaliates by throwing a leg up and kicking Jason right in the gut. Jason gasps, pissed now that his breath has been knocked out of him two times now, and immediately kicks back.

The fight continues. Hits here, kicks there. There's no quips. No banter. Just the sound of panting breaths and the dull thuds of blows being exchanged.

Jason goes to smack Dick's ears and disorientate him, however he doesn't get to finish his blow. Dick ducks under his arm and slams his entire body weight into Jason's stomach. Arms wrap around Jason's middle, sending them both to the floor. He shouts when his back lands roughly on the ground and his head thunks in the inside of his helmet, but he immediately begins to shove Dick off from him.

He succeeds in that regard. But Dick almost rolls off of Jason himself, getting to his feet in a blink of an eye and sprinting for the other side of the room.

Jason realizes why the moment Dick bends down and snatches up Jason's lost weapon.

The gun.

For a second, Jason almost believes that Dick will smile, drop the weapon, and say this was all some huge test or spar. But then, Dick lifts the gun, aims with accuracy, and squeezes his finger on the trigger.

Jason has a blink of an eye to roll out of the way of the first bullet, but the second one hits him right in the thigh.

And he knows he has rubber bullets. They're not meant to be deadly.

But they sure as hell are painful.

Immediately, it feels like someone took a baseball bat to his leg. He tries to stand up, but his leg persistently wants to buckle. He manages to scramble to his feet, using the wall as support, but then there's another blast from his stupid fucking gun and he stumbles. Next thing he knows, a hand grabs his shoulder and pulls him down, slamming his stomach against a bony knee heartlessly. He falls to his knees, gasping for air, hardly aware of the hand that goes to the hidden latch at the back of his helmet until there's a hiss and air hits his skin.

The barrel of his own gun presses against his head as the hand still on his shoulder squeezes. Jason sucks in air, then glares up at Dick who's wearing a triumphant smirk.

"Not so tough now, are ya?" Dick says, and Jason snarls. He goes to stand up, but the gun presses harder against his skull. A rubber bullet is still a bullet when at point blank. He stills.

"What the hell is going on?!" He growls, and Dick smirks.

"You've been raised by the world's greatest detective, right?" Dick asks, his voice singsong. "Figure it out."

And Jason hates that. Everything Dick is saying. Doing. Acting. It all feels fake. Practiced. Like he's playing a part but not playing it completely. Like the backup actor for when the lead one calls out right before a performance.

Acting. Fake. Practiced. Wrong. Different.

Holy shit.

"You're not Dick," Jason acuses, the realization slamming into him like a truck. This isn't Dick. It's so clear now. He's so dumb for not realizing earlier. It's all been some sort of set up. And maybe it was easy to look past the strange actions because he was, dare he say it, relieved that Dick was okay and alive and standing in his bedroom after three weeks of being missing. Three weeks and counting now. "Who are you?!"

The fake laughs, twisting the barrel of the gun against Jason's head. Jason has no doubt he'll shoot it. "My name isn't important. What is important is that I'm wearing the face of the most trusted guy in the superhero world. You were the field test, Hood. Looks like besides a few hiccups here and there, I'm ready for the big league."

Jason stills. Hiccups ? This guy, whoever he is, knows things that he shouldn't. Secret identities. Nicknames. Personalities. He's had to get his information from somewhere. And three weeks seems like a pretty realistic timeframe to get that kind of information.

"Where's Dick. The real one. He in a room like this too?"

Because he can't be dead. He can't be.

"Course he is," the fake replies, "have him stuffed away somewhere you'll see soon. Seems like there's information he got wrong and left out, enough to get you suspicious of me. That's fine though, he was pretty tight lipped at first. He loosened up after a few days. We'll just keep trying on the both of you. I think I'll be able to fool Batman himself soon enough."

And shit. If that isn't a scary thought. Because it seems… true. Believable. Like Bruce can actually be fooled by this man that looks exactly like Dick.

"This isn't going to work," Jason says, instead of voicing his real thoughts.

The fake's grin widens.

"It already is."

Then, he brings the gun back, smacking it against Jason's forehead with a snap.

Jason goes down hard, and he wonders as consciousness begins to fleet, how long it will take the rest of the family to realize something is wrong.

With the chirping of laughter that sounds so familiar to Dick's that it makes Jason's stomach churn, his eyes shut against his will, and darkness embraces him warmly.

-o-o-o-o-

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

Note

I really think that Godspeed, Lane Kent (but retconned to be Zod clone) and Koryak would get along with Jason very well, and of course Artemis but she’s a popular suggestion. Also Rankorr but since he’s a Red Lantern he’s probably not a necessity. (Also thanks for being another person that chooses Anima/Courtney Mason!).

I’ve never considered Grant Emerson, Todd Rice or Tom Bronson though. Probably because I didn’t like choosing characters I believed wouldn’t be okay with the occasional murder

Tbh, there’s not really a ton of material out there for several of those characters (admittedly, at least just not that I’ve read), such as Koryak, and so I tend to view lineups like that as being more about the iconography of Jason being part of a JLA style lineup rather than assembling an interesting mix of powers, backstories and personalities regardless of mantle. Its not that I don’t see the symbolic weight of such a line-up, and its certainly not that it CAN’T be interesting, its more just like.....tbh, I think one of DC’s biggest flaws is their tendency to lean into their symbolism/iconography in place of actual story. Going for the most resonant IMAGE instead of crafting the most resonant plot. That sort of lineup, I think, leans directly into that particular hang-up of theirs, and so that probably has a lot to do with why I’m more resistant to it, if that makes sense?

IMO the best team line-ups or ensembles, the ones that stick in your memory longest, tend to be the ones that are more challenging to put together, where they’re not as obvious and the writer really had to do the legwork to figure out the how’s and why’s of them coming together and STAYING together for plausible reasons....because those end up being the teams that have the strongest IN-STORY foundations, y’know?

As for Grant, Todd and Tom not being okay with the occasional murder, you’re absolutely right, they wouldn’t be that cavalier and casual about it, but there’s one specific element of that line-up for Jason that plays into that.....and that’s that I crafted that lineup specifically for an AU where Jason doesn’t die and becomes Flamebird rather than Red Hood.

I actually have no problem with Jason having a personal code of ethics that makes room for killing certain criminals like for instance the Joker or Black Mask (as long as that’s not just used as an excuse to make him mindlessly trigger-happy, as happens in a lot of canon as well as fics) so this isn’t a judgment call on that.....BUT I have a biiiiiiiiiig issue with the way its just taken for granted that Jason was always ‘destined’ to be a killer, because he was the ‘angry Robin’ and he questioned Batman’s methods and methodologies at times, and believed they let certain criminals off too easy. That could easily describe EVERY Robin at times, Dick and Tim have both had similar internal struggles at times, etc, and so to me it just doesn’t hold up that it was always just inevitable that Jason go that route one way or another.

A lot of people point to the Garzonas story as an indication that Jason was already going down that path even before his death, but that only holds weight if you believe that Jason really did push Garzonas, which I don’t - I think he was capable of it, yes, like, it COULD have happened. But I don’t think he was capable of it and showing no visible sign of remorse or guilt over it happening, like unless you believe he’d already killed someone before that, that would have been his first time taking a life. And I just don’t buy that he could be so stone-cold about the very first time doing that (and at a time in his life where he still very much wanted and craved Bruce’s approval and feared not having it) and not show ANY actual signs of having done it that Bruce could pick up on....since Bruce wasn’t actually picking up on anything in the way of actual evidence that Jason had done it, and rather was operating entirely off of his own fears that Jason had done it.

And again, there’s also the fact that most of the Batkids, not even just the Robins, have at one point or another been in a story where they faced a similar choice, and it was similarly not a given which way they would land at the end of the day.....except in pretty much everyone else’s equivalent story, they had room for follow-up and deeper exploration of their thoughts and feelings around it that Jason just flat-out didn’t get, due to ADITF taking place not long after. In hindsight, taking Jason’s death and return in UTRH, the Garzonas story seemingly falls neatly into place as step one down Jason’s road to Murderville, but I think if Jason HADN’T died when he had, if there’d been more time and exploration devoted to the aftermath of that story AND more of it taken place in Jason’s own POV.....I think that rather than being an inevitable stepping stone to a casual incorporation of murder into his personal methodology, its over-all place in the tapestry of Jason’s stories might very well have ended up looking very different.

So I’ve got no problem with Jason as the Red Hood when its done well (ie NOT Morrison’s take, lmao), but I have a particular interest in exploring the idea that Jason’s story wasn’t FATED to go in one direction and one direction only. And that’s where the Titans lineup with him, Grant, Tom and Todd, etc, comes from. Like, in my mind, there’s plenty of room for Jason to wind up with a world-view and methodology that would’ve been on par with most of the Outsiders in Dick and Roy’s Outsiders lineup....‘rougher’ than the average hero, for sure, but still without question ‘which side’ he was ultimately on.

I do agree that it wouldn’t really work to have a lineup of Jason, Grant, Tom, etc, come together for the first time AFTER Jason’s return in canon. They wouldn’t mesh then, absolutely. If they’d been friends before Jason’s death, you could still make it work with him as the Red Hood due to pre-existing loyalties and camaraderie, and with them perhaps having a calming or mitigating effect on Jason’s Pit Madness or most destructive instincts, but even that’s not a total given and would really come down to the execution of that.

*Shrugs* Ultimately there’s a lot of different ways it could go, I think, but yeah I don’t disagree that Jason being like LET’S GET OUR MURDER ON, WOOHOO and Grant and Tom in particular being like YEAH MURDER TIME WOOHOO, like....no, that isn’t one of them, lmfao.

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anousiemay · 4 years

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The Angel & The Devil Ch. 1 A Lie Burns Many Bridges

Guardian and The Red Hood are hot on the trail of Black Mask. Trying to find just what he has invested in this time. In an attempt to find answers, The Red Hood does something he instantly regrets, putting his relationship with Guardian on the rocks. Can he salvage their relationship or will he lose another person in his life? Another gorgeous commission by @symeona and another fic by yours truly! While the moment I pictured this image doesn’t appear till chapter 4 I thought it’d be a good placeholder hehe. Another Jason x Anita fic cos I’m in love with them being in love. This fic is also on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anousie/ ----- "Are we going to be meeting this 'Angel' you keep mumbling about?" In the little time Jason had spent with his new teammates, he'd learnt that Artemis is not one to beat around the bush. In fact, she'd most likely beat the metaphorical bush to bits if need be.

The long flight back to Qurac had eased Jason's mind but left his body weary. It was the first time in years that Jay had ever felt so tired. Especially after facing his past and stopping a crazed Amazonian from killing hundreds with the Bow of Ra. It could be said this was all in a day's work for someone of his profession. But as the plane’s wheels touched Gotham Airport tarmac, his heart began to ache. For now, he was back in Gotham with his relationship with Anita most definitely on the rocks. "Yes, Princess. You both will, but I'd prefer if I was alone with her first." "Red Him am embarrassed by Red Her and Bizarro?" Oh Bizarro, precious, brutally strong Bizarro. Jason was much more embarrassed in himself. "No of course not, big guy. But Guardian and I probably aren't on the best terms right now." "You are lucky we are in a public place or I would have thrown you fifty yards. Do not call me princess." Artemis spat as she rose from her seat on the plane. Ah yes, he forgot about that. That's what he'd say if he was lying. "Sorry," He really wasn't. "Well, I guess I'll take you guys to one of my safehouses. C'mon, I need a shower." "Oh good, I swear your jacket was becoming a part of your flesh." "Red Him am made of jacket?" "No, Bizarro. I am not."

- - - - The safehouse was surprisingly spacious enough for all three of the Outlaws to occupy. Artemis had placed her axe in the kitchen when they arrived. To which Jason had promptly asked her to leave it in her room. Bizarro on the other hand, was fascinated by the PS4 currently humming and the controller Jason had placed in his hand. "Give it a shot, B. Skyrim's a pretty good game." Then, once sure the two were settled and not putting their weapons in kitchens; Jason grabbed some spare clothes and jumped into the shower. How good it felt to be under hot water. Jason took this moment of solitude to reflect on the past few weeks. Two weeks ago, Anita, known as Guardian to the public, and himself had been hot on the trail of Black Mask's latest investment. The Angel and Devil (aptly named by goons due to her wings and his red helmet) were scaring thugs and opening crates of 'funky techno shit' as Anita had called it nightly. But neither were getting anywhere. Dead end after unconscious thug with no real lead on just what Black Mask was planning. That's when Jason had turned to Bruce, asking him to trust his wayward son with taking down Black Mask himself. "You want me to pretend I know nothing? She won't buy it for a second, Jason." Bruce had been rather shocked by Jason’s latest proposition. "I know, I don't need her to buy it. But if she knows what I’m doing she'll hold back. It's the only way." "Wasn't it a while back you and the others were adamant, we'd be honest with one another?" Bruce uttered as he opened a few files on the Bat Computer. Jason laughed then, Bruce did too. Neither were that good at being honest. "She won't be happy, Jason. She's not like us. It was hard for her to get her around being a meta and now you're doing this?" Jason sighed, how could he forget? Anita had been a mess, he had let her down and couldn't save her in time from the bastard who implanted the meta-gene. But now she was Guardian, a symbol of hope for Gothamites and himself. She was a good person; mask on or off. But Jason well, Jason wasn't always a good person, even if she disagreed. He left soon after, his response dangling in the air. "I have to, Bruce. It's the only way."

- - - It was April 12th and the moon was hung high in the air. No clouds in Gotham meant there'd be a lot of evil out tonight. Guardian peered through her night vision binoculars for the third time in 3 minutes, she was insanely bored. Red Hood had briefed her that The Bowery had seen a lot more foot traffic than usual in the construction site across from the apartment building roof she sat on. They were to watch the place for any unusual activity. At least she had some food to keep her occupied. "So, what do you think of Gina's Kebabs?" She asked through her microphone, trying not to stain her white outfit as she took another bite.

A small crackle from her earpiece, then Red Hood’s deep voice cut through the midnight wind: "I think it's more grease than lamb, Angel. I'd give it a 3 sober. What about you?"

Guardian giggled, "Well my chicken one is actually pretty warm still, so I give it a 5 for its longevity."

"You're definitely the nicer mark out of us two." Red Hood responded, an airy chuckle leaving his throat. "Oh, Red. I'm the nicer everything out of us." "Excuse you? I have a hotter bod than yours." Guardian faked a gasp, but he had played himself into a trap: "That’s not what’cha said last night." "I wasn't sober!" "Exactly, you were drunk on this fine glass of wine." Guardian stood up and shook her hips, knowing the vigilante on the building across from her was watching. "Just shut up and watch the roads."

"Aww, you're precious, babe." Guardian teased but resumed watching the roads below. 30 minutes passed before finally, something happened: a large truck reversed into the opened shutter of a warehouse next to the construction site. 5 minutes later, two men came out on motorbikes and sped off towards Founders Island. Bingo. "Shall we give chase?" Guardian was already extending her wings before Red Hood surprised her. "No, let's see what they've left. Bats can handle them." She spotted his silhouetted figure grapple down from his building. "Are you sure the grease in that kebab didn't poison you? This is our chance to get some info!" Guardian questioned as she flew down to the warehouse, meeting her partner who was already trying to lift the metal door. "Or break some bones for absolutely nothing." He huffed out, Guardian sighed and grabbed the metal door, throwing it up with one hand. "Since when were you against breaking bones?" "Anita." His voice was stern, Red wasn't kidding around. "Jason?" She shot back; this wasn't like him. The tall man sighed and took off his helmet, he only ever did that when he wanted to get a point across. Or make out, but she doubted that was the reason this time. "I just think it'd be better for us to keep our eyes on whatever they've bought here. We can catch up with them another time, but what if what's on this truck is the answer to what Black Mask is up to?" "But why would he leave it here unguarded if it was, Jay? It makes no sense, it'd have to be some dud shipment, right?"

Damnit, she was too smart for her own good. But Jason had one more card up his sleeve.

"Just humour me?"

The two stared at each other for a few beats before Anita finally sighed and walked into the warehouse. "Fine, but you owe me a Banana Split from Freddie's when you see that I'm right." "Yes ma'am." Jason affirmed before clicking his helmet back on. The two waltzed over to the back of the truck and Anita ripped the metal back off, placing it next to them. "Your super strength is getting easier to handle?" Jason questioned, pressing their bodies close as they peered into the trucks back. "Yeah and the wings aren't playing up as much either." Anita admitted, in fact her powers had been functioning well these past few nights. Jason smiled from under his helmet, running a gloved hand along her feathers. "You do look beautiful with them, you know?" Anita blushed at the compliment, still feeling rather insecure about them. "You trying to butter me up, so you don't have to get me a Banana Split?" "No! Maybe… Is it working?" "Tell me I have a better bod than you and I'll reconsider." Anita teased as the two began grabbing crates and opening them on the warehouse floor. "I'd have to perform a full examination to know." He poked back swiftly. "Ugh, men."

After going through all the crates, Anita let out an exasperated sigh. "See? I told you it was a dud shipment. But why would he have one? What do you think Red?" Anita waited a few moments; hearing Jason unlatch one of his guns from its thigh holster. "Red?"

A small click then a loud bang. Guardian fell to the ground in pain, looking at her leg she saw a bullet lodged into her kneecap and blood staining her suit. But Guardian doesn't bleed, she hasn't since she got these wings. Just what the hell was in these bullets? Her head started feeling light but willed herself to look up at the shooter: Red Hood held his pistol at her now sweating forehead. Pulling the chamber back and wrapping his finger tight on the trigger. The only thought that passed through Anita's head was: ‘What the fuck?!’

#Jason Todd #jason todd x oc #red hood #red hood and the outlaws #oc #fic #fanfic #ao3 #dc

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redhoodieone · 5 years

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Just the Two of Us

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m finally on summer vacation which means I’ll be able to read and write more which is totally fun! This is my first major fic about Damian, and I’m totally excited to share it with you all. Enjoy!

Summary: Damian is nervous and frightened that he’s losing his older adopted sister Y/N and is determined to spend as much time with her, even when Jason and his brothers crash their slumber party.

Warnings: Language, mentions of sexual activities, and too much fluff.

This is a totally random night. What should have been a night all to myself while my boyfriend participates in ‘guys night’, I find myself sitting on a thick pink comforter while we’re hidden underneath sheets in a perfectly created fort.

Because Damian insisted we needed a fort for our “slumber party.”

“There...finally we have privacy for our slumber party. I do not want Grayson, Todd, and Drake interrupting our night. Now, what else do we do on these...nights, sister?” Damian asks. The curiosity and interest in his eyes never fade.

Yes, the thirteen-year-old Damian had overheard me talking to Barbara about how slumber parties were a way to reconnect with friends, share secrets, and just be there for each other. As an adult, I still found slumber parties to be fun, but haven’t had one since I was a teenager but had missed it so much. After my confession, I found out Damian had Alfred put together a slumber party for him and I.

The fort is spectacular; knowing how Alfred and Damian practically used the highest furniture to make it big and sturdy just shows no man in this family does anything half ass.

I unzip my sweater to reveal my tank top and pajama shorts, as Damian sits down after changing into a thin t-shirt and sweatpants. After he settles down, he sits cross legged like me and he smiles.

Just seeing Damian smile warms my heart, after everything that has happened.

I was thrown into the Batfamily at just fifteen-years-old. My parents abandoned me. I was living out on the street and did dirty work for Two-Face just to survive. But on a night that Two-Face was done with me was the night Batman and Robin saved me.

I was not only adopted by Bruce Wayne, but I became the newest superhero, NightBat. Five years of working alongside Bruce, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake, they gave my life meaning and became the light in my former dark life.

But being NightBat was something I couldn’t keep doing since I fell in love.

Yes.

Yes, I fell in love with Jason Todd.

After Jason’s death and resurrection, Jason was on the edge of becoming as dangerous as the Joker. It took the Batfamily and I a very long time to save Jason, but in the process, Jason and I kissed; a kiss that revealed how long we loved each other and how much we meant to each other.

After our confessions, Jason asked me to be his girlfriend and we’ve began dating. We’ve been together for three years now.

But with dating came some cold hard truths. Jason had been a nervous wreck and constantly worried about me fighting alongside them. And after he voiced his concerns, I realized crime fighting wouldn’t exactly help my future goals.

What if I wanted to get pregnant one day?

Although Jason and I never spoke about kids, I always wondered if he wanted them secretly or if he has even thought about having them with me.

But it was settled anyways. I worked behind the computers while Damian’s entrance into the Batfamily made him Robin. But just knowing Damian was enough for me to realize how kind and caring he was underneath the anger and hatred he was bred into believing.

And after a while, Damian and I became close; we’re almost like best friends (Barbara is right behind him).

Although Damian was initially against my relationship with Jason, it took everyone by surprise especially with how overprotective and serious Damian was about my wellbeing. But after serious and heart to heart talks with Bruce and Alfred, I realized Damian really saw me as a sister and wanted to protect me and make sure I’m taken care of because of his newfound brotherly duties.

Which could explain Damian wanting a spontaneous slumber party tonight. Even though Damian’s random thoughts and ideas for us to hang out is not unusual.

What’s unusual is how he’s been clingy these past few days. I haven’t exactly confronted him or tell anyone about my suspicions.

“We can make s’mores outside?” I suggest. The thought of a roasted marshmallow on a piece of milk chocolate and in between two graham crackers makes me lick my lips. “That sounds like fun.”

“Excellent. I’ll go fetch Pennyworth and have him provide us with the supplies,” Damian announces.

We begin to crawl out of our fort until someone jumps down, pokes their head in, and growls at us. Damian and I scream and fall and crawl back into the corner of the fort. Laughter. Men laughing takes us by surprise.

Jason Todd.

Dick Grayson.

Tim Drake.

Damian climbs off me and growls himself as we crawl out of the fort. And there were the three brothers, with Jason on the floor holding his stomach while laughing his ass off, as Dick and Tim were standing and laughing hard while covering their mouths and shaking a lot. As Damian and I stand up, Damian kicks Jason in the stomach.

“What the fuck?!” Jason snaps.

“How dare you frighten us, Todd! I should kill you where I stand!” Damian yells.

“I’d like to see you try, fucker!”

Before Jason reaches to grab Damian’s foot, I kneel beside my boyfriend. “Jay, what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at guys night?” I ask curiously.

“The little shit head never showed up at the movies. He fucking ditched us!” Jason answers, and he’s trying hard to not lose his cool with me. “And why are you here, Y/N? Shouldn’t you be back at home enjoying your ‘masturbating alone’ time?”

“Damian invited me to stay the night so we’re hanging out,” I say.

“Okay…but since Damian never showed up, we came back here to drag his little ass out,” Jason says, glaring at Damian.

“That’s why we came back here,” Tim replies.

“So Little D, you ready to go now? We always hang out every Friday night,” Dick says, offering a hand to help Jason up. Once Jason’s on his feet, Damian scoffs and shakes his head.

“As you idiotic pests can see, I already have plans with Y/LN. You imbeciles can go ahead and leave us alone,” Damian says, not even hiding the fact that he’s pissed off at them.

Damian grabs my arm and tries to lead me into the backyard, but Jason grabs my other arm. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, demon spawn?! Y/N’s my girlfriend! Don’t you know guys who flirt or try to steal other guys’ girls end up getting their asses handed to them and buried six feet under! Now get your fucking little hands off her!” Jason snaps viciously.

“Jason stop! What is your problem?!” I demand. I pull my arm away from him, shocking not only him but Dick and Tim as well.

“Don’t you see what he’s doing, babe? He’s trying to take you outside and do whatever that little pervert has planned!” Jason claims desperately.

“T-t,” Damian scoffs, and shakes his head at Jason. “You are a very, ignorant, arrogant, fool Todd. Y/LN and I are brother and sister. Father adopted her, which makes her my sister. As her brother, I have the right to spend time with her; one on one time since bonding is appropriate and needed for people to grow, learn, and be content. Whatever sick delusions you have are merely your own issues, not mine. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going outside to make s’mores.”

Dick’s eyes widen and he perks up. “S’mores? I want s’mores!” Dick cries out excitedly.

“Well, too bad Grayson. It’s only for Y/LN and me,” Damian snaps.

Damian manages to get us outside but Jason and the other two just wouldn’t leave us alone. I realize something’s bothering Damian, and I need to get to the bottom of it before he explodes, and we’ll just keep on fighting.

“Damian, something’s bothering you. Please tell me what it is,” I plead. The younger brother continues gripping my arm and I can hear him breathing hard. “If you say we’re as close as you say we are, then you should be able to tell me. I can help you. I want to help you.”

“It’s nothing,” Damian mumbles under his breath. He refuses to look at me or our brothers. “Just forget it. It’s pathetic.”

“Your problems are never pathetic. It’s okay to have problems and to solve them,” I disagree, and I finally am able to pull away from Damian’s grasp. “I don’t think I can continue our slumber party unless you tell me what is wrong. So, tell me what is wrong, Dami.”

Damian finally turns around, and his eyes are teary. Despite his rough and tough exterior, inside is a boy who has never had an innocent and fun childhood. He’s on the verge of breaking down, and just seeing him this upset breaks my heart.

“You’re…never around anymore Y/N,” Damian says to me, as he allows himself to cry and tell me and our brothers what’s been bothering him. “Ever since you and Todd have become…what Grayson says, “exclusive”, you have barely been home. You always spend time with him, and whenever our family gets together, you’re always with him: kissing him, embracing him, holding his hand, and always just touching him while you forget I’m beside you, too. I-I don’t have any serious issues with your relationship with Todd, despite our ongoing brotherly feud, I truly believe he cares about you and loves you as much as you deserve and more. But it always feels like you don’t even speak to me or want to “hang out” with me anymore. When was the last time it was just you and I alone?”

I can’t control my own tears from falling. “Maybe a month ago?” I choke out.

“Two months ago,” Damian corrects me. “You moved out six months ago to move into his apartment, and you’ve only been back home for short visits.”

“Damian…I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know you felt that way. But you have to know that I still love you and care about you,” I say, hoping he would understand. Damian looks up at me, even our heights are close (because he’s becoming a rather tall boy). His green eyes glisten from his tears and the patio light. I reach out to touch his face, and he closes his eyes and leans into my touch. “I never meant to hurt you like that. I love you, and you’re my little brother and I should be around more because we’re not only family, but we’re friends too. From now on, I’ll be coming home more. Okay? Can you please forgive me and give me another chance?”

Damian’s eyes open, and he smiles at me. That smile is enough to warm my heart again. “I would be a fool to not give you another chance, Y/N. Can we please continue on with our slumber party?” he asks softly.

“Of course, Dami.”

I hug him tightly. As we hug each other, I notice Dick smiling proudly at us for solving our problems. Tim sighs, and looks at Dick and Jason. “Poker night?” Tim asks.

“I’m in. But this time, I’m shuffling the cards,” Dick says, as he and Tim head back inside to give Damian and I privacy for our slumber party. “Jason cheats, and I believe you count cards!”

“I don’t count cards! You don’t have evidence; you can’t prove anything!” Tim shouts.

As Damian and I pull away from each other, Jason clears his throat. He runs a nervous hand through his dark hair, and sighs.

“I…I’m sorry Damian. I didn’t know you felt that way. I’m obviously fucked up, so in my defense, I tend to get jealous and crazy because I love Y/N so much. And I know you love Y/N as well, so how about we set aside a schedule or something during the week?” Jason suggests.

“Maybe when you want to hang out with Dick, Tim, and Roy, on your ‘guys night’, maybe Damian and I can have our own “siblings’ night” or something. What do you say to that, Dami?” I ask, hoping he’d love the idea.

Damian smiles sincerely. “I would…appreciate and respect that idea. Thank you Y/N. Thank you Jason,” Damian says, before engulfing Jason in a rough hug. Jason chuckles, and hugs Damian back.

“Tell anyone about this Todd, and I’ll castrate you in your sleep,” Damian threatens.

“I was just going to tell you the same thing, Omen. And hey, you called me Jason,” Jason teases.

“Fuck you, Todd!”

“Fuck you, Wayne!”

I roll my eyes at both, as they quickly move away from each other after their hug. I finally make my way to Jason, and he immediately looks down at me with so much love and admiration. His blue eyes steal my attention.

“I really like what you did back there, Jason. You’re so sweet and caring. You even apologized and helped Damian out,” I say. “I really admire that.”

“Well, he is my…little brother,” Jason says quietly. “Not like I had a choice, right?”

I smirk at him. I stand on my toes to reach up and kiss him. “I love you,” I whisper against his mouth.

“I love you too, doll. I love you so fucking much, Y/N,” Jason whispers back, and kisses me again.

Damian scoffs to get our attention. We stop kissing and look at him. “Now that we solved my problem, I believe it is time for you to leave, Todd,” Damian says seriously.

Jason sighs, and kisses me again. “Maybe all of us can do something tomorrow? Just you, me, Damian, Dick, and Tim?” Jason asks.

“I would like that a lot,” I agree.

“And I agree as well,” Damian agrees with me.

“Well, then I guess I’ll see you in the morning, doll,” Jason says softly. “Goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight Jay,” I say.

Jason grins, and kisses me once more despite Damian making gagging noises. As soon as we pull away, Alfred comes outside with a tray of marshmallows, pieces of chocolate bars, and graham crackers. Jason sneaks a handful of chocolate and some marshmallows and waves us off.

“Night Omen!”

“Night Hellboy!”

“My word! Master Damian, I bring you the items you requested. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Alfred sighs.

I take a seat on one of the patio chairs, as Damian starts a fire into the firepit Bruce and the boys made a while ago. As the fire glows and rises, he smiles at me and I smile back at him.

Because Damian and I finally fixed our problem, and as siblings, we only have adventures and memories to share and create now.

“No, thank you Pennyworth. My sister and I are set tonight. We’re okay now.”

#dc comics #batfamily #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n

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bat-lings · 5 years

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I love everyone in the batfam no matter how problematic, but the Rhato 25 discourse bothered me. As a Bruce fan I didn't like the complete crucifixion of his character by the Jason diehards. Personally I feel Bruce was justified (the brutality felt like a publicity stunt for shock value, which I didn't like), but seeing these same fans (that hate Bruce for daring to hurt their fav) then celebrate when Jason did the exact same thing to Damian in the teen titans annual. It's so hypocritical.

Oh, Anon, I fear you inadvertently put the finger on the exact thing I despise about current storylines. I agree in that they’re taking the shock value too far and that every character suffers for it.

Frankly, I have more of a problem with what the fans are served than with how they reacted to it.

Fair warning, I’m gonna get very critical with the writing of the two events Anon mentioned. I’d be extra interested to hear about those events from the perspective of someone who actually enjoyed them, but it’s not worth your good mood if reading a post basically trashing said storylines upsets you.

I’ll respectfully disagree about Bruce’s behavior towards Jason. It was excessively brutal and nothing justified it. The scene can be summed up to shock value, to the point it would need to be entirely rewritten to exonerate Bruce. Jason relapsed into lethal force for understandable reasons. Even if we consider nothing excuses Jason; even in an alternative scenario where he’d have shot the Penguin out of the blue, Bruce’s behavior would be plain wrong.

Bruce went after him, assaulted him, and kept on beating him while Jason wasn’t defending himself.

Let’s forget this was Jason for a second. This is not the kind of violence Bruce should resort to against any criminal. I don’t just mean that hey, this isn’t ideal morally speaking, I mean that Bruce Wayne, as a character, as the man who was always written to believe in redemption/rehabilitation, as the man who willed never to use lethal or even unnecessary force, can’t do this and pretend to be remotely what Bruce’s character is supposed to represent. I hate it every time Bruce is written to use that kind of empty violence, preboot or reboot. Miller went down that road too and it never fulfilled my idea of entertainment.

Then you add on the fact that Jason’s his son, and it makes it all so much worse. Bruce legit puts the blame on Jason, not only during the confrontation (“I told you if you left me it’d be your choice”), but also in a later issue when Lobdell serves us a disastrous attempt at a reconciliation scene. “I love you but you deserved a kick in the ass.” Like, I don’t think Lobdell could’ve portrayed a more abusive father-figure if he wanted to.

As a comparison, have similar confrontations between Bruce and Dick in preboot.

[Batman (1940) #600]

So here there’s an actual fight. Dick is actively participating rather than being used as Bruce’s punching-ball. Power-wise, they’re equals.

You want a true equivalent to the scene between Jason and Bruce, where Dick suffers from a power-imbalance + Bruce being toxic?

[New Titans (1988) #55]

Note how it doesn’t go further than a punch because it’s bad enough that way and doesn’t need to escalate further to drive the narrative home. There’s no “I love you but you deserved a punch” bullshit later on either.

Even in Teen Titans: Year One where Bruce was particularly terrible (too much imo), he’s brainwashed when he hits Dick and nothing in the story/framing exonerates Bruce for his global behavior.

Those confrontations had a place in their narratives other than shock value. Bruce’s descent after Jason��s death, his mental state in Murderer/Fugitive. They illustrate how fucked up Bruce is at a specific moment due to specific events and context. They’re not casually dismissed afterwards by a hug and a dubious line. And again, they don’t require Bruce to beat Dick half to death to drive their point home.

By the way, this is reconciliation.

[Batman (1940) #605]

This is a component of the circle of abuse.

[Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #27]

“I love you. If only you weren’t so stubborn, you wouldn’t deserve an occasional kick in the ass. Like when I inflicted you severe physical trauma. But I love you anyway. Aaah, the woes of father-son relationships!”

There was no narrative reason for Bruce to take it that far with Jason in rhato. It’s just physically more violent and emotionally less impactful, because it’s so damn cheap and because it tries to pass abuse for a normal familial dissension that can be cured with a hug. I can’t get emotionally engaged with that kind of writing.

It’s a reboot, it’s entitled to change characters, but it’s simply not a Bruce I recognize nor one whose existence I’m particularly eager to acknowledge.

As for the Jason-Damian confrontation…

I don’t care that Jason didn’t want to fight and tried so hard to de-escalate the situation until Damian pulled out that mystery drama-box. I don’t care that Damian’s a trained fighter. Frankly, I don’t care about the specifics. At the end of the day, an adult beat the shit out of a child. A child who was framed in earlier appearances to be his little brother. A writer/editorial team/whoever the hell made the conscious choice to put those characters in the specific situation where an adult would beat the shit of a child family member.

You know, for all that I hate TT#29 for its cheap violence (and Jason’s less than ideal portrayal), it at least had the decency to oppose two characters of roughly the same age. And in this continuity, Jason was revived to be a villain. I may not like it but it’s expected that he acts villainous towards the fam, or Tim here. Plus Tim and Jason were never ever portrayed as brothers in post-crisis. They’re strangers. Them beating each other simply doesn’t have the same significance.

Have another preboot parallel where neither perpetrators are villains.

[Red Robin #14]

Here the writer puts Tim in a situation where he has to defend himself against a ten-year-old. There’s a punch, and then the violence stops. That’s it. Much like the preboot Dick-Bruce confrontations, it doesn’t need to be taken further. The story delivers its point without any ten-year-old getting beaten senseless by an older ally.

Seriously, how does this…

[Batman (2016) #16]

…exist in the same continuity as this?

[Teen Titans Annual 1 (2019)]

How is this a good way to portray familial dissensions/confrontations of any kind?

You’re the writer. You decide if the 20 something is gonna throw hands with the 13 year old. You decide how the father figure reacts to the son’s actions. You decide how far each confrontation goes. You decide whether two characters that were explicitly portrayed as brothers are gonna bleed each other out. You decide whether the father figure is abusive. You decide what happens, how it happens, how it’s resolved, and how every element is framed.

Physical violence is just another narrative tool that should be used to construct a story. You can’t just throw it in, dial it up to 11, and hope it’ll make your scene impactful. It just proves you don’t know how to write a vivid scene without relying on cheap tricks.

Anon, I get your frustration, I don’t like what’s done of Bruce either. I made a post about his parental failures in preboot ( bat-lings.tumblr .com/post/180901354160/do-you-think-bruce-was-a-bad-father-im-starting); none of them ever reached rhato’s caricatural empty brutality. Bruce is less and less well received by fans as he’s sometimes instrumentalized in sequences that don’t fit his character. It’s not fair on him.

But I can’t seem to disconnect with what we are given long enough to worry about how we react to it. And to be fair I’ve seen as many posts hating on Jason’s recent actions than hating on Bruce’s.

Tbh bad writing/ooc-ness aside there’s little anyone can say to exonerate either character here. The fans are reacting vividly because they’re faced with a story that has little else to sell other than vivid brutality. We all go “gasp!”, pick sides, and that’s it. It’s hard to breed interesting discussion among fans with that configuration.

The good news is, each of those characters have seen better days, and not everything in reboot is as bad as the above sequences. Also we have fanfictions :D

#jason todd #damian wayne #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #batfamily #meta #asks #zae chatters

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chokeonmydickgrayson · 6 years

Text

Headcanon #12

Taking the Batfam home to meet your Family.

Dick:

You’d probably have to tell him about twenty times on the ride there to keep his hands to himself, not even a little hand holding in front of your parents. (Lord knows how eager he is to have his hands on you at all times, though honestly you never mind it. You’re father however would slaughter him at the sight of any physical contact between the two of you and you were not going to be splitting up any fights tonight.)

Though Dick, being the playful idiot he was, would probably ignore your warnings. He’d slickly let his hands linger on yours as he’d pass you things around the house, subtitly winking to you as he did so. It makes your heart beat skip and draws a smirk to your lips, you loved his playfulness.

Other then his occasional defiance of the whole hands to yourself rule, he’d be a down right proper gentleman.

Before dinner he’d help your mother in the kitchen with the food, prepping the vegetables, setting and removing the pot roast from the oven, even grabbing her the various bottles of spices she collects and keeps stores up on the top shelves (which she can’t reach for the life of her and is to stubborn to move no matter how many times you and your father beg her to). Once he leaves the room your mother would most likely grab your arm and smack you lightly questioning instantly about plans of a wedding. “Your not getting any younger Y/N and neither am I! I want my damn grandbabies! He’s gentle, he can cook and he’s got the looks” she’d wink with a shake of the hips before giving a chuckle when youd flush red and burry your face in your palms “im just sayin’...the way he looks at you is the same way your father looked at me when we used to date...It’s clear he really loves you sweetheart.”

During dinner he’d probably be seated next to you. He’d probably let his leg rest against yours as he ate, he remembering to use those billionaire manors Alfred and Bruce instilled in him. It warmed your heart at how hard he truly was trying to impress your parents, you’d probably have to repay him the favor after dinner. He’d do his best to impress the table with some quirky banter and after the meal he’d be the first to excuse himself to help clear the table and help with the dishes. (Geh you almost wished he did the dishes at home. You’d give a chuckle and roll your eyes at just how much of a kiss ass he was being, but you thought it was cute.)

After dinner he’d probably try an attempt to spend time with your father. He was positive he had your mother’s approval but, he needed to know your father approved of him as well. It would come in hand one day when he asked for your hand in marriage. He’d probably sit back on the couch diagonal from your fathers recliner and watch the football game with him, he making small talk about the games plays. (As much as Dick enjoyed sports he never got to watch them, with your ever busy life styles sitting home and lounging in front of the tv watching Sunday night football was never an option). Your father knowing what Dick was doing would be the least bit interested in what he had to say. He’d give a sigh and mute the game, not making eye contact as he spoke “if you wanna brown nose my ass kid, your fucking shitty at it. Let me just save you the trouble, i will never approve of anyone that my little girl brings into this house, I know what a young guy like yourself wants with a beautiful girl like my daughter, I was your age once too.” He’d probably sip at a bottle of beer, before placing it on the coffee table in front of him leaning in closer for Dick to meet his eyes. “That being said, you make my little girl happier than I’ve ever seen her. You’ve made it further than anyone else she’s ever dated, no one else has made it into this house” he’d hum fingers rubbing at the short kept black beard on his chin. “You must be special to her...you two got pet names?” He’d ask Dick through squinted eyes, to which Dick unsure how to answer would blurt no. A bluff, your father could smell it a mile away. “What do bees make?” To which a very confused dick would blink and answer back “wait? What? Um, Honey?” You’d hear the word honey and poke your head through the kitchens serving window and respond with “Yeah baby?” Dick would turn bright red in the face and your father would hum with satisfaction, leaning himself back into his chair with his beer, returning the tv volume back to normal “your a shitty liar, you’ll do I guess”

Jason:

Jay wasn’t the most polished of all guys, sure he knew manners but more times than not he’d never use them. You’d beg him to at least try and act like he was raised in a damn house and not like a hood rat raised in the gutters of Gotham. He’d probably take notice of how important this was to you and do his best to comply. You debated telling him to be careful with how much physical contact he’d put out, but you knew it’d be a waste of your breath to even try.

His palms would be damp most likely out of nerves (but hell if he’d admit that to anyone.) You’d slide your hand into his regardless of the sweat, and knot your fingers together giving him a gentle reassuring squeeze “you’ll be fine, no matter what happens tonight i will still love you” you’d whisper to him leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He’d appreciate that more than he’d be able to express.

While you and your mother begin to cook dinner, Jason would be sat on a chair in the kitchen most likely findling with his phone doing some type of “work”. Generally unless spoken to, he wouldn’t speak which could problematically be seen as rude. Your mother would most likely eye you over with disapproval and annoyance motioning to the phone in his hand. Moms are gonna mom. You’d sigh and call his name, evoking an immediate response of “what?” You cringing at the tone. Throughly to be clear you’re not cringing due to the toughness of his tone, but from the fact that you knew his response was going to catch a bit of lash back. You’d just take a breath and hand him a carrot and a peeler. He’d look at you with a brow raised before looking down at the carrot “am I suppose to freaking chop it or something?” He’d ask honestly unknowing that some people did in fact peel the top layer of a carrot off. You’d just snort a bit to his response you not thinking anything out of ordinary it. With a gentle shove of the shoulder you’d take the carrot back and demonstrate proper peeling procedures before handing it back “think you can handle that Mr tough guy? If not I got some heavy dishes in need setting up that have your name engraved right on ‘em” you’d tease. Your mothers eyes would watch the two of you more eased by the way he reacted to you, however her impression so far wasn’t the best. Once he’d finished peeling the carrots and had left the kitchen your mother would pull you aside and voice her concerns. “I know you love him Y/N but are you sure he’s good for you? I mean I can see what you see in him” she’d pause watching him as he set the table. There was no denying Jason was one gorgeous man, the honest to god total bad boy packag. Stunning body build, beautiful piercing blue eyes, and that irritatingly gorgeous dark hair with that one white pinstrip. God you couldn’t help but watch him as well. You could have spent the rest of the night just fantising about what you’d do for him later if your mother had not stopped you. “I’m just saying baby, think about it before you make any choices. You say he treats you well, and I can’t be one to disagree, I just don’t appreciate the foul mouth and the attitude. He clearly means a lot to you and you clearly mean a lot to him...maybe just try and smooth his edges out”

During dinner Jason would most likely take a seat next to you, however across from your father. At some point in your meal you’d ask “daddy could you pass me the salt?” Hey, you were still young and your father was one of the most important figures of your life. Your father would reach forward his hand overlapping onto Jason’s, confusion and anger splaying over his face. Jason had unintentionally without paying attention as well reached to hand you the salt, seeing as how sometimes you could be guilty of calling him by the same name during bedroom play. Your face would be bright red as you sink in your seat, Jay casually chewing the piece of meat in his mouth “oh wow, this is kinda awkward....Id love to give you an excuse for why I reached for the salt, but i got nada.....your daughter calls me daddy too.” He’d smirk.

There was no after dinner, your fathers top blew, you and Jason being kicked out of the house. Don’t worry, your father would leave Jason with fairwell parting gift, a good clip to the jaw....It’s safe to say your father does NOT approve of Jason and your mothers view point may be more skewed now. He’d look defeated and upset that he messed up tonight so badly but how could you stay mad at him. Your family could be difficult there was a reason you didn’t come around much yourself. You’d just press yourself into his torso planting soft kisses there “I’m proud that you at least gave it your best shot Jay, but i hope ya don’t have hopes of ever being called Daddy again after tonight.”

Tim:

You would have zero concerns about taking Tim home to meet your family. He was respectful, smart, and handsome, he was everything you look for in the boy you bring home to mom and dad. You were excited for your family to finally meet him, you’d only chewed your mothers ear off endlessly about the amazing boy you’ve been blessed with, you couldn’t wait to flaunt him off.

Tim however, would be a nervous wreck. He’d probably ask Bruce about a thousand times how he should act and what he should say. He didn’t want to blow this, you mean the world to him, he’d hate for you to leave him over a small screw up. He’d be so nervous he’d practice the phrase “Hi Mr and Mrs Y/L/N I’m Tim, it’s nice to meet you” about a thousand times. You’d notice his jitters and would let your palm slip innocently against his lap, softly petting his upper thigh. “Relax Tim, you’re over thinking it. We’re just grabbing dinner with my folks, just be the Tim Drake I fell in love with, he’s the best guy I know” you’d tell him. I’d do wonders for his nerves.

Before dinner Tim would be attentive and helpful in the kitchen, he’d start cooking right along side your mother as if he were part of the family. (Which you were glad he felt that way) Your mother would love how eager Tim was to learn her cooking methods, even if he was a terrible cook. It was an A for effort from her. Youd crack a grin and watch as he used the might of those finely toned muscles of his to mash the potatoes. He’d look so adorable in your mothers apron, his tongue greased our past his lips in the corner as he really focused on the task at hand. You’d give a smile while your mother wasn’t looking and dab a bit of potato on his nose kissing his cheek softly. Nobody but you and Tim has to know about that. She’d smile when he walked out of the room, she watching him take his time to set out the table out in the dining room. “You were right Y/N, when your right your right. I didn’t believe you when you said you’d found the perfect guy but I can’t argue with you! He’s a little cutie pie, you two are adorable together hunny. He must really love you to go through all this trouble tonight, you’re very lucky.” She was right, you watched him with practically heart shaped eyes. You were incredibly lucky.

Dinner would go fairly smooth. He’d do his best to help clean up after dinner, though he’d end up making bigger mess in the kitchen so your mother would banish him from her realm.

After dinner he’d sit with your father, though Tim being the shy guy he was didn’t really have much to say. He didn’t give a damn about sports, the only thing Tim could talk about that he and your dad had in common would be you. He’d clear his throat and rub his palms nervously on his pant legs he clearing his throat “S-sir....i know I’m not the hippest guy on the block and I get it if you’d rather your daughter date someone cooler than me...but I can promise you I’m never gonna do anything wrong by her. She means a lot to me and I’m sorry I don’t have much else to say, I don’t think other than Y/N we really have anything in common” he’d nervously laugh “but I can tell you that I love her and I promise every day I fight to be a better me so she can have best me possible.” He’d say eyes locking with your fathers.

Your father would take in a deep breath and look Tim over once or twice not saying a word, turning his attention back to the tv. He’d pass a beer over to Tim cracking it open. “You’re an okay kid” he’d say pounding back a good swing of that alcohol before slamming the can down on the table “but if you’re lying to me and you break my baby girls heart I’m gonna break your damn knee caps” Hey, if ya don’t make the threat are you really her father? All jokes aside your father would absolutely approve. He’d pull you aside after he’d shaken poor Tim’s ass and whisper into your ear “don’t tell him i want him to fear me a bit, but I approve sweetie, you picked a good guy.”

#batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #jason todd #nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin #tim drake #tim drake x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader

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ellana-ravenwood · 6 years

Text

In which the Batboys fight to know which Hogwart’s house is the best - Batmom x Batfam

Well...I mean, why not right ? I might as well have drifted away from the original request but..It happens you know ^^'. Oh and before I get too many comments about it : I sorted the boys in houses I thought would fit them, it’s only my opinion and of course I can be wrong but...It’s just a story ^^' (I’m saying that because I know some of us potterheads can get very passionate about in which house which hero is and like...I’m not writing this to raise any debate, just writing this because someone requested it and liked the idea). Hope you’ll like it :

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

It was breakfast time and you were all sitting around the kitchen counter, still groggy with sleep, eating the breakfast Alfred made you like robots.

Mornings weren’t really the best sociable and lively time in your household...

Like every morning, you were snuggled close to your husband, your legs across his own, his free hand, the one he wasn’t using to eat, absentmindedly caressing your thighs. By now, all of your sons had came to ignore your lovey dovey gestures and just eat their breakfast as if you weren’t there.

But from time to time, for good measure, they would shiver in disgust, or just whisper a small “ew”, and avoid their father’s glare. Like right now, as Bruce bends to kiss your forehead gently, and you smile stupidly, lift your head and give him a kiss on his lips...”Eew”, they all say.

You smile some more as your husband squint at them and...Wait, all ? No, one was missing.

Damian didn’t say anything, while usually, he was the most vocal one.

As you were bringing your coffee to your lips, you could see, from the corner of your eyes, your youngest son, apparently lost in his thoughts.

Oh he looked so much like Bruce right now, focus on something unknown.

You turned your head completely to him, observing how his brow was furrowed, his eyes looking somewhere in front of him, not moving, his hands linked under his chin, his breakfast left untouched in front of him...

He feels your gaze and looks at you.

You smile fondly at him, and he smiles back. You don’t need to talk for him to understand you’re wondering what he’s up to, as he can read the curiosity in your eyes, and the way you bend your head slightly on the side physically signifying said curiosity.

-I was thinking about Harry Potter.

He says simply, and you can’t help but smile even wider.

Oh Harry Potter. You had been a huge fan of it ever since the first book was released. You could remember it as if it was yesterday, how you initially bought the book for Dick, who was about to turn 9, and ended up reading the all thing before him...From that moment, you were hooked, and your passion for it was so vibrant that it made your sons fall in love with it too !

It always made Bruce’s heart melt, whenever he caught you and your boys watching the films, or having a silent reading party.

So of course, when you had learned that Damian never even heard of Harry Potter before...you had to do something about it ! At first, he wasn’t really up for it, until he read the first book and the rest was history.

After he read all the books, you guys marathoned (for the 32482932 times) all the Harry Potter movie in one day and one night (Bruce fell asleep on you half way through “The Chamber of Secrets”).

This was only a few days ago, as you were all very busy and it took time to gather the entire family to watch those films...You can’t help but chuckle a bit as the words “Harry Potter” coming out of Damian’s mouth make your other sons turn their attention to him. Your husband rolls his eyes. Oh man, here we go again.

-Oh ? And what were you thinking about ?

-Houses.

-...Houses ?

-Yes. Hogwarts’ houses. I was wondering, if we were wizards, in which house would we be ?

Tim, after a loud slurp of his coffee, says :

-We wouldn’t be in Hogwarts if we were wizards. We’re americans, so we’d be at Ilvermorny.

Damian makes his trademark “tt” sound and, annoyed, turns to his brother saying :

-You perfectly know what I’m talking about ! But alright, what if we were wizards AND British ?

Tim smiles smugly at him, always happy to mess around with his little brother (after all, he stayed the youngest Wayne boy for a long time, and Dick and Jason teased him enough that he felt he earned this). After glaring some more at Tim, Damian turns back to you and, his eyes full of a new spark of curiosity, he asks you again :

-So ? What if we were wizards - and British yes Drake I know !- ? What Hogwarts house would we be in ?

You can feel their gaze on you and...Oh. Oh ! OOooOOoooooOOoh. They're expecting you to tell them ? Oh dear.

************

And this is when it all starts.

They’re all aligned in front of you, sitting on the huge living room couch, waiting for you to sort them into a house. They even forced your husband and poor Alfred to join (even though they secretly love it, because they kinda want to know as well in which Hogwarts’ house they would be !).

To your sons, it made sense that you’d be the one to sort them all, because you’re the one that knows the most about the Potter World, and about them ! And also, because whenever they tried to do the “official potter more” test, it ended up in them fighting because they kept disagreeing on what they “should” answer and such...So their only option to be sure was...you.

You sigh and shake your head, as they keep on staring at you, patiently waiting. Alright. You could do this. Your voice captivates them instantly :

-Well, I’m going to start with the most obvious one...Tim, you’re definitely Ravenclaw. There’s no doubt about this. Not a single one.

Tim stands up, and very solemnly goes to one of the Ravenclaw robe Alfred bought that afternoon (yes, they made Alfred go in town to buy six robes of each houses in the Potter store in Downtown Gotham, and the matching sweaters and tie of course...this was all very serious business ! You felt so bad about this that you went with him and...might have bought a few other goodies just for good measure). With a satisfied smile (he always knew he was a Ravenclaw), he goes back to sit. You continue :

-Now, all of you are a bit tough, as you could all fit in more than one house but...I think I got it figured out. Dick, I hesitated between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff but I think...Yes, you’re a Hufflepuff.

Ignoring his brothers snickering at the fact that he’s in the “useless” house, Dick stands to go grab his robe and dramatically turns around to say :

-May I remind you all that Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff, as well as...Tonks ! Who’s one of the coolest character so shush. Also, J.K Rowling said she wished she was a Hufflepuff, and we’re the only house, in the books, where ALL OF THE STUDENTS decided to stay for the final battle so...zip it. Hufflepuff is awesome.

Before any of your boys could say anything and argue with Dick’s point, you raise your hand in a very McGonagall kind of way to shut them up, and you keep going :

-Jason, I also hesitated but I’m pretty sure you’re a Gryffindor.

Your son stands and goes to take his robe. He doesn’t say anything, but only because you know he’s about to be all smug and talk about how Gryffindor is the best house (after all they got Dumbledore, Harry, Sirius etc etc...), therefor starting a “war of the houses” kind of thing, and you don’t let him say anything as you keep going, pushing him toward the couch so he goes back and sit down in silent. He grumbles a bit, but does it nonetheless :

-Damian, I think I’m safe by assuming you’re Slytherin. I’m just going to add that, by the way, every wizard that were in that house weren’t bad people. On the contrary, it’s only a handful who gave them the bad reputation. Slytherins are cunning, ambitious, and would do anything for their friends...Like you my boy. Also, Merlin was a Slytherin.

Damian, who at first was a bit taken aback that you’d think he was a Slytherin (...he wasn’t a bad boy was he ? He tried so hard not to be) stood up after your little speech and, excited, when to get his robe, yelling a “cool !” before going back to sit. Dick, as a good ol’ Hufflepuff, ruffles his hair lovingly and winks at him (of course you’re not a bad kid...though the Slytherin thing definitely fits your little pretentious you haha !). Alfred smiles and...it brings you to your next person to sort out :

-Now Alfred, I also hesitated. Because it’s clear you have all the quality to be in both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. However...I believe you’re also a Hufflepuff.

Dick stood up and went to grab a robe for the butler, a wide grin on his face. At least he wasn’t alone, and though Alfred acted like he didn’t care, he actually loved Harry Potter too and would defend his house to the death (or maybe not, but like...he would defend it using all his British sarcasm). You smile as Dick and Alfred proudly put on their Hufflepuff robes, and at Damian pouty face (he wanted Alfred to be with him) and finally turns to your husband :

-You’re the most difficult one to sort my heart. So I thought I’d ask the boys to choose for me, as I just can’t decide if you’re a Slytherin or a Ravenclaw !

-SLYTHERIN !

-RAVENCLAW !

Tim and Damian both yelled at the same time, clearly determined to have their father in their house, and you wince in advance at the fight that is about to happen. Damian starts :

-Obviously he’s a Slytherin, after all I must take after someone you know ! Also the cunning and ambitious part ? The will to do things ? I’m sorry he’s Batman, he got an incredible will to do all the things he does so like, hellow, Slytherin!

-Uh uh ! Ravenclaws too have will, will to learn and to get better, and excuse me but we call him “the greatest detective” which just reeks Ravenclaw all over it !! And...

You know it’s going to be an endless fight. After all, there was a reason why you just couldn’t choose wether your husband was a Raven or a Snake. He had qualities to be both. Hell he could even be a Gryffindor ! But mainly, Ravenclaw and Slytherin were tight, and you were hoping your sons could help but...well, it was just a bad idea.

Of course Damian and Tim would fight about this. Endless fight...Or so you thought.

Your husband calm voice raises slowly and instantly your sons stop talking :

-I mean, to be honest, I don’t know either in which house I would be. When I tried the Pottermore test, the website crashed. I tried four times, crashed every time. So maybe it’s a sign that...I should be both Ravenclaw and Slytherin ? If even the sorting hat - he pointed at you and you couldn’t help but laugh a little - doesn’t know, then who can ? Maybe I’m just a...Ravenrin...A Slytherclaw. Here we go. Maybe I’m a Slytherclaw. Because I’m special.

This makes your entire family laugh and...To be honest that’s actually not a bad idea. None of them could honestly say that they knew in which house he would fit better, Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Even Damian and Tim had to admit they didn’t know so...Slytherclaw it was. After all, and though none of you would ever admit it, he was quite special. Special enough to have his own house.

Well. Here it was. Everyone was sorted and it went pretty smoothly without much fights. You were about to say that the ceremony was over when Jason asks :

-What about you mom ? What’s your house ?

You turn to him and, with a knowing smile you say :

-Well I’m a (your Hogwarts house), obviously.

Now that they were thinking of it, this choice of house was indeed obvious for you...

************

They think you didn’t notice, but you did.

They think they’re being so damn sneaky, but they’re not.

And so this is why today, you called them all in the living room, a severe expression on your face.

-I know what’s happening. I know what you’re doing. Now, I’m not going to pretend I don’t like it, because if I’m being honest, I absolutely love the idea but Hell if I don’t stop you all right now, before you actually hurt each others, and set some ground rules !

Your sons look at each others for a little bit, sitting on the living room couch, and they don’t even wonder how the hell you came to know what was happening...After all, you were their mother, you noticed everything.

Their father and Alfred were there too, standing next to her, an amused expression on their faces. You continue :

-So first, this...Alfred could you show them please ? Thank you. This, is the official cups where we’ll gather the points ! Bruce honey, could you please ?

Alfred uncovers something that was hidden under a drape on the coffee table...Tubes. Four of them. One with a raven, one with a lion, one with a snake and one with a badger. They could tell you painted them yourself and they were quite impressed really...The tubes almost looked like what J.K Rowling described in her books, talking about how everyone knew how many points each house had.

Your husband set, right next to the tubes, a few glass filled with different colored marbles (red, blue, green and yellow), and your son suddenly understand. Their suspicion is confirmed when you say :

-I know you guys have been fighting about which house is the best, as you’re each from one...Who beat the most bad guys, who has the best grades, blahblahblah. Now, I’m making it official, and here are the rules : as you guys know, some of my favorite HP characters are the Weasley twins, R.I.P Fred.

You give a minute of silent for the fallen twin before you keep going :

-Here’s the thing, when you guys define how good your house is by who gets to beat the most asses, you put yourself in danger, because you actually want to beat more asses than your brothers, and then you stop thinking, and you could get hurt, and I can’t have that...So, to make this little “war of the house” official, and I’m just going to throw this out there that I never wanted this to go this far but of course with four competitive kids it would, I’m changing the rules. It’s not who’s the best fighter or anything anymore...Which brings me back to the Weasly twins, R.I.P Fred.

You take another silent minute, and Alfred and Bruce find it more and more difficult to not burst out laughing at your antics. You make everything sounds so dramatic and serious, and your sons are so into it ! You wink at your husband and surrogate father, smiling widely at them, before you finally get to your point :

-In honor of Fred, here’s the rule of our very own house cup : you can win points by...pranking your brothers ! As long as no serious harm is made to any of you. Also, no mocking or public shaming. Pranks are to happen only within the walls of our very own Hogwarts, Wayne Manor. Each time one of you have been successfully prank, the one who pranked them will come to me and I will decide how much points, or marbles here, they won. The first tube to be filled is the winner of the house cup.

Dick asks :

-How will you decide how many poi...marbles to give for each prank ?

-Completely arbitrary my dear. It depends how much I like the prank really.

A small silence falls on the living room, and you can almost feel the excitement radiating from your sons. Yup, this is definitely going to be fun.

As you make sure once more that they understood the rules (especially the one about not hurting each others, ONLY SMALL HARMLESS YET FUNNY PRANKS), you let them go on and about to start their little war, and turn to your Husband and Alfred. The butler, rolling his eyes, says in an irritated voice (although the spark of amusement in his eyes tells another story) :

-You’ll be the one cleaning the mess, Lady (Y/N).

-Oh no, they will.

Alfred can’t help but smiles, and leave to continue with his duties. Bruce catches you in his arms and brings you close, brushing his lips against yours he says :

-You’re absolutely fantastic.

You wink at him, and it drives him wild...

************

The first prank was from Dick and you had to admit, that kid was inventive.

Early in the morning, a few hours after everyone came back home from the night patrol, you heard a screeching scream coming from the end of the corridor. Bruce and you stood up on the instant, ready to fight whatever was attacking your son (you recognized Damian’s voice), and ran to the noise...only to be faced with a Damian, sitting on the floor, his hand on his heart, and looking utterly pissed.

-I ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK GRAYSON !!

Dick was laughing, and you were confused...all you could see was a balloon filled with Helium flying on the bathroom’s ceiling. It’s only when your boy explained what happened that you started to laugh too.

Dick had hid a balloon filled with helium under the toilet’s lid, hoping one of his brothers would come to pee during the night (or early morning), and would be scared by the balloon suddenly popping out of there...and it was a total success. You gave him three marbles for that one, and an extra one because he drew a terrifying smiley face on the balloon.

************

The little pranks that drove them crazy were your favorite.

You gave two marbles to Ravenclaw (Tim) when he rearranged every drawers in Jason’s room. He changed all of them, and for days, Jason kept getting mad that nothing was where it should be, until he finally understood the subterfuge...

You gave one marble to Slytherin (Damian) when he duck taped harmonicas to Dick’s motorcycle’s exhaust pipe. Dick drove around wondering what the hell was that sound for a while...

You gave four marbles to Gryffindor (Jason) when he put Orajel in the bristles of his brothers’ toothbrushes. They didn’t notice anything until their mouth was completely numbed, and weren’t able to talk properly for hours, which made you, Bruce, Alfred and Jason laugh like crazy.

You gave two marbles to Slytherin when Damian replaced every single names in Tim’s phone contact with “John Cena”, and changed his ringtone to the famous meme song.

This gave an idea to Dick that earned him two marbles as well. He told all his brothers that he changed their contact names, that he swapped them around and...didn’t actually do it. Jason, Tim and Damian were suspicious about any texts or calls they received for days, before Dick thought it was time to tell them, and oh god it was glorious.

Slytherin won three marbles when Damian made a sticker that said “voice activated” and put it on the brand new coffee machine. The sign was well made, he even added the logo of the coffee machine on it, it looked very real...You laughed way too much, witnessing everyone (but Alfred and Dams) talking to the coffee machine until they realized it was yet another prank.

Tim got one marble for unscrewing the shower head of his brothers’ bathrooms, putting chicken broth cube in it, screwed the shower head back and...”I just took a shower but I feel all sticky and I smell like chicken broth...”

Damian got two marbles for putting glitters in all of his brothers’ pants. Your sons were sparkly for weeks, as glitter gets everywhere and takes forever to go...such a good prank.

It took a week for Damian, Tim and Jason to realize that Dick had changed every single picture in their bedroom with pictures of himself laughing as if he was a character in a sitcom...This earned him 2 marbles.

You gave two marbles to Tim when he re-laced their shoes from the tongue down, with the aglets at the bottom. Simple, but efficient and hilarious. He also earned four more marbles for the effort, when he put all of his brothers’ stuffs in their build in closets in their bedroom, and screwed the doors shut. Ooooh yes it was funny.

You felt awful, the day Jason pranked Dick at dinner time.

You saw things happening. You saw Jason took the hot sauce and vodka. You saw it all but...you were too curious.

Besides, he was about to prank Dick, who was old enough for alcohol (and hated it).

You kept it cool while you saw Damian distract Dick (oh so he was in on it...Gryffindor and Slytherin teaming up, a first !) and Jason almost emptied the bottle of hot sauce in Dick’s plate.

A few seconds later, and as you couldn’t hold your laughter in anymore, Dick was turning red and screaming for some water...he should have been more careful when he saw Jason giving a glass to him...

-THAT IS VODKA YOU IDIOT !

Dick yelled as he spat the entire thing on the floor, and rushing to the fridge to get some milk and soothe this damn burn.

By then, the prank war was going on for so long that you all started to laugh like crazy once you realized what was happening.

This earned seven marbles for Jason, and two for Damian who helped.

************

All throughout this prank war, this little personalized house cup, you, Bruce and Alfred (who weren’t playing, taking part in the cup for obvious reason, as one of your boys would be disadvantaged because there was only three of you and four of them) took bets as to who would win...Little did you guys know that, none of you were right.

************

As you were about to give each of them two marbles for their pranks of the day, you realized that...but that couldn’t be possible could it ?

And yet...You called all of them to the living room and they ran to you, knowing why you were calling them.

They held their breath as you slowly put the last marbles of the Wayne House Cup into the tubes and...What ? No. No that couldn’t be the end of it, could it ?

-Well, boys, seems like the winner of the house cup is...ALL OF YOU ! PERFECT EQUALITY ! Wow I’m actually impressed. Good job guys. But I guess we’ll never know which house is the best...

There was a short silence, as Alfred and Bruce, who came at the same time than them in the living room, were laughing because of the boys’ faces. Their facial expression was a mix of shock and “wtf”, and the most hilarious thing ever. Finally, finally they reacted, and as one said :

-ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ?!

The fit of laughter that took over you, your husband and Alfred was endless.

Fin.

_____________________

...Eh :/. This was so (too) long. Sorry. The pranks weren’t really great either, I’m not good at finding those and uuuuuuuuuuuuh. MEH EH MEH.

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