Awww

God potato please help us

Multiverse, Reverse Robins au, 2,514 words

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Jason (Red Hood)

The imposters are good, Jason will give them that.

They need to work on their looks, unfortunately, because each one of them is a little off. Their Nightwing is too bulky, and his costume isn't made with Dick's flexibility in mind. Besides that, he's got an undercut that doesn't match the shaggy way Dick has his hair now, and his blue is too dark. And the swords. Those are different.

Their little Robin looks more like Dick, actually, Dick as he was before Jason's time, with his happy grin and his bright yellow cape. He doesn't match Damian's style at all, and Jason wonders if their intel was out of date. He tucks away his anger (the way he's used to doing, now) at these bastards roping some little kid into whatever con they're trying to pull. They can help the kid after they subdue him, and he stops trying to flip-kick people in the face.

The Red Robin outfit isn't bad, but the guy playing him is way too tall to be Tim. He doesn't use a bo staff, either, clearly preferring the armory of sharp little implements he keeps tucked away in his utility belt, including a wicked looking combat knife.

Which brings Jason to the current pain in his ass, the idiot trying to pass himself off as the Red Hood.

Yeah, they'd split off into pairs to fight. First off, for practicality's sake. Less risk of friendly fire if the only guy you're trying to punch is the one who isn't you. And secondly, it's just what you do, isn't it? Somebody gives you a set up like this, you go along with the poetic justice. No bat is immune to drama.

Jason is regretting that a bit, now. Fake Hood had taken him for a ride, leading him, he now realizes, far away from the warehouse where Nightwing and Robin had initially called in the disturbance. This other guy isn't the powerhouse that Jason is, but that doesn’t matter if Jason can't ever get in a hit. His movements are precise, deadly, and familiar in a way that makes Jason suspect League training. Jason is keeping up, but barely, and that's with the advantage of his guns. The other guy hasn't touched his, still gleaming red in his holsters, and Jason has a sneaking suspicion that they aren't filled with rubber bullets.

They're at a bit of a stalemate, standing on opposite sides of a dark rooftop, and Jason's trying to catch his breath but he can't relax, not when his gaze is locked onto his opponent, waiting for the minute twitch of muscle that will indicate his next move. He's wondering if he could get a shot off, wondering where to aim, when his comm crackles to life.

“Stand down!” Tim snaps in his ear. “Hood, Wing, the alternates aren't currently a threat. Deescalate however you can, and get back to the warehouse. We can explain this whole mess there.”

“Really?” Nightwing asks. He goes on to say something else, something about his doppleganger being incredibly threatening, thank you very much, but Jason stops listening, because there's something going on across the roof.

A mechanically distorted voice says, “What? No, I'd be able to tell. This guy isn't-” The imposter(?) cuts off suddenly, presumably listening to a response.

And then he… giggles.

“That isn't funny, Red,” he says, in contrast to the little peals of laughter making him subtly shake. “You- you get how fucked up that would be, don't you?”

Jason can't figure out what to do. Tim's intel is almost always good, but he can't get himself to stand down, not when, for some reason, that laughter is setting his teeth on fucking edge.

(He knows the reason. He'd know that cadence anywhere, he hears it in his fucking nightmares, but it isnt possible. He's in Arkham, right now, because Batman won't kill him and Jason isn't allowed to kill him and that uncomfortable truce is what got him his family back. Jason would know if he'd broken out, they wouldn't have kept that from him. They wouldn't.)

“Oh shit,” Tim says, and it makes Jason wonder how he knows, “Hood, is your alternate having some kind of fit right now?”

The sound escalates, from breathy little giggles to screeching laughter, and even with the hood's distortion, it's unmistakable.

It's the Joker's laugh.

It's the Joker.

And isn't this exactly some shit that Joker would pull, making a mockery of Jason's family, a twisted parody that fucks with his head? Tim's lying, he's trying to get Jason out of this situation, and Jason gets why, he does, but obviously the rest of them can't (won't) protect him from this, so if he has to take fate into his own hands, he will.

The green is creeping up, but Jason doesn't let it haze over his vision because he has to be in his right mind while he does this, not for them, for himself. As he stalks across the roof, he empties the clip from one of his guns and pulls out the live rounds, loads them into place.

He thinks Tim is calling for him, maybe the others, too, but the chatter over the comm is getting further away the closer he gets to his target. He should be smart, should take the shot, but maybe he's got more pit in his head than he wants to admit, because Joker, still laughing, pulls a knife, and Jason steps into his range to disarm him.

The strike is fast, but compared to the careful movements of before, he's practically telegraphing his actions. Jason sidesteps, and if the blade knicks him when he twists Joker's arm, he doesn't feel it. He's got the clown in a hold, now, and forces him to his knees with the gun against his temple.

If the hood is anything like his own, the bullet won't do it, not even at point blank range. Jason would like to get it off him, would like to see the life leave his eyes, but he doesn't have to. Jason moves the barrel beneath his chin, right where the armor ends. The pit rages inside of him, says this is too easy, says to make him suffer. Jason pushes it down. This is the compromise he'll make, this is what he'll do to try to maintain both his humanity and his peace of mind. The bullet will ricochet off the hood from the inside, will tear through Joker's brain at least twice, and he'll never come back from that, and Jason will finally be free.

It'll be easy.

This is too easy.

“Nothing to fucking say?” Jason growls, jostling the clown in his grip, because there's always some joke, some shitty twist.

The Joker just laughs.

“Unhand him this instant!” someone snaps, and Jason's finger twitches but somehow the trigger stays still. And now what's he supposed to do, because of course fucking Nightwing- but wait, that isn't- but it is, he's right there- it's both of them, two Nightwings. Fucking fantastic. Twice the guilt trip.

“Come on, Jay,” the Nightwing who's actually Dick pleads, and hey, what the fuck, codenames? In front of the fucking Joker, Dick? “Let him go, we can explain everything.”

“I'm not doing this again!” rips itself from Jason's throat, and he'll think later about just how wrecked he sounds. “I'm not just standing here and letting him go, Wing, not when one bullet can put a stop to all this, not when I can end him.”

“Jason,” Dick says, slow with forced calm, “that's not the Joker.”

“Don't you fucking lie to me!” Jason seethes.

His hand is wrenched to the side, the barrel facing open air, and before he can make a move the unfortunately familiar feeling of a high voltage shock courses through him.

By the time he's stopped seizing, Dick is at his back, supporting him with his own body and with arms under his pits and around his chest in a weird reverse hug. Technically, Jason's hands are free, but they're empty, the gun skidded to somewhere else across the roof.

Dick is murmuring into his ear, “Sorry, Little Wing, I'm so sorry,” and, “You're okay, you're okay, you're okay,” mantras meant to soothe his brother as much as himself. Jason wants to be angry, wants to snap at him to let go and fucking cut it out, but he's feeling strangely disoriented. He only has enough brainspace to pay attention to one thing, and that's the scene playing out in front of him.

Dick had clearly hauled them back a few steps, but Jason is still uncomfortably close to the bastard version of Nightwing (who, Jason realizes in hindsight, had tazed him while he'd been distracted by his brother, not cool) and the laughing maniac he should've killed. Nightwing is holding onto Joker's shoulders, his hands bouncing as the gasping, shrieking laughter continues.

“I'm going to remove your helmet now,” Nightwing says. He has a slight accent that Jason knows he's heard before, and his tone is professional, almost clipped. And yet, somehow, Jason can tell that this is a gentled version of the man's voice, the sharpest edges sanded away. His hands move from Joker's shoulders to the back of his head, carefully inputting whatever sequence allows for safe removal of the hood. Jason hears a hydraulic hiss when some sort of catch releases, and as Nightwing starts pulling the red metal up and away Jason can't help holding his breath.

At first, he sees what he expected to see. It's the Joker's expression, after all, his laughing face pulled into a rictus grin.

But the grin isn't right, somehow. The man is pale, but his face is unpainted, and the smile stretches wide, too wide, wider than even the Joker ever managed, and after a moment Jason recognizes the red, raised scar tissue on either side of his mouth for what it is.

Then, Jason takes in the actual features of the person in front of him. Dark hair, pale blue eyes, the cheeks, the jaw, the nose.

It doesn't make any fucking sense.

The Red Hood, collapsed on his knees in front of him, scarred face bare with no hood or domino to protect him as he struggles under the weight of his own laughter, is Tim Drake.

He's crying.

Jason is suddenly glad that Dick's holding him, because he's certain that he'd be on the ground, otherwise. Then, he realizes that he can't breathe.

Jason knows, logically, that his hood has sensors and filters that keep him safer than he could ever be without it. It is only every once in a while, when something stupid happens, that he regrets that he, a man with claustrophobia, decided to stick his head into a metal bucket.

Dick can probably tell that he's hyperventilating, and doesn't fight him as Jason gets his hands on the back of his neck and pulls off his hood.

Jason gasps in polluted Gotham air, and Tim's eyes snap onto him. Nightwing says, “I'm administering the emergency dose of your medication,” and then stalls, like he's waiting for a response, but all Tim does is laugh and stare. Jason stares back. He can't look away.

Nightwing retrieves a small tubular device, almost like an epipen, and presses it against Tim's leg. That shouldn't work. Tim's wearing body armor, same as the rest of them, and there's no way a needle could pierce it, but Jason looks as Nightwing draws the device away and there's a small raised circle of hard plastic on Tim's thigh that the head of the device fits into perfectly, like it was designed for that purpose. An injection spot, built into Tim's clothing, specifically for whatever drugs fake Nightwing just pumped into him.

Immediately, there's a difference. He doesn't stop laughing, or smiling that horrible fucking smile, but the manic tension is gone. He doesn't look like he'll shatter at a touch anymore, too brittle to be handled. The curve of his spine gentles, muscles no longer pulling it to the point of snapping. Jason watches as slowly, oh so slowly, Tim gets quieter, leans more into Nightwing's hold on him, starts gasping more than laughing.

Dick is talking behind him, into his comm, it sounds like. If it's important, someone will get his attention.

Finally, Tim breaks eye contact. “T- tell him,” he says to Nightwing, struggling between gasps and giggles, “tell him what you, gave me. Jay doesn't, he doesn't like, needles.”

The strange Nightwing turns his head, and Jason gets the impression of a sharp, searching gaze behind his domino. He's nothing like Dick, not at all, but something niggles the back of Jason's mind, some sense of familiarity regardless. He tosses something, and Jason automatically reaches up to catch it.

It's the empty tube of medication, which does seem a lot like an epipen, up close. “It's a combination,” the man says. “The antidote for Joker venom, an antipsychotic, and a mild sedative.”

“What the fuck?” Jason hears from his own mouth as he looks down at the innocuous little tube.

“It's only used in emergencies,” Nightwing adds, and does not clarify any further.

Jason doesn't know what to say to that. He shakes himself out of Dick's hold and grabs an evidence bag out of his jacket. He watches Nightwing, to see if he'll object, but he doesn't. Jason slips the medicine tube inside the bag and tucks it away.

“There you are!” Dick says in a bright tone, one meant to cover his anxiety and relief.

Jason turns, and finds that their roof has gotten a little crowded. All four Robins have arrived, his brothers mingled in with their copies, copies who don't quite match in ways that are now sticking in his brain. Tim, Jason's Tim, is standing right there, pressing his mask against his face like he'd broken the seal on the adhesive, and it isn't sticking quite right. Other than that, he's normal. He's fine.

The Robin, the one in the classic colors who Jason had thought looked a bit like Dick (oh God, could that be-?) gives a little whistle. “Trust Red Hood to cause drama!” he says in a bright tone that is too too familiar (fuck, fuck he is). “Must be a universal constant.” He grins, cheeky, looking past Jason.

Jason isn't processing fast enough to be offended for his own sake, but he turns and checks on Tim, other Tim, the Tim who apparently also has a claim to the Red Hood name. Tim is propped up on Nightwing's shoulder, looking drowsy and relaxed. He's looking back at Robin, and his lips are pressed tightly closed, but he's smiling, and it reaches his eyes.

Alright, then. This is probably fine.

Jason snorts, to get the kid's attention, and rolls his eyes. “Comes with the job description,” he snarks.

The kid lights up. Jason feels distinctly weird, having that smile directed at him, but it's not… bad.

Yeah. This is fine.

-

I'm planning to add a reblog with more information on this au/fic idea, so if you're interested, watch this space.

Team “not actually oblivious to flirting, just terrified of appearing presumptuous” represent.

official elon musk hate post reblog to hate like to hate reply to hate

“Wait, these are actually hella cute questions.”

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1. Who was the last person you held hands with? 2. Are you outgoing or shy? 3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? 4. Are you easy to get along with? 5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? 6. What kind of people are you attracted to? 7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? 8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? 9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? 10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? 11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? 12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? 13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? 14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? 15. What good thing happened this summer? 16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? 17. Do you think there is life on other planets? 18. Do you still talk to your first crush? 19. Do you like bubble baths? 20. Do you like your neighbors? 21. What are you bad habits? 22. Where would you like to travel? 23. Do you have trust issues? 24. Favorite part of your daily routine? 25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? 26. What do you do when you wake up? 27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? 28. Who are you most comfortable around? 29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? 30. Do you ever want to get married? 31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail? 32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? 33. Spell your name with your chin. 34. Do you play sports? What sports? 35. Would you rather live without TV or music? 36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? 37. What do you say during awkward silences? 38. Describe your dream girl/guy? 39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? 40. What do you want to do after high school? 41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? 42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? 43. Do you smile at strangers? 44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? 45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? 46. What are you paranoid about? 47. Have you ever been high? 48. Have you ever been drunk? 49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? 50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? 51. Ever wished you were someone else? 52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? 53. Favourite makeup brand? 54. Favourite store? 55. Favourite blog? 56. Favourite colour? 57. Favourite food? 58. Last thing you ate? 59. First thing you ate this morning? 60. Ever won a competition? For what? 61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? 62. Been arrested? For what? 63. Ever been in love? 64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? 65. Are you hungry right now? 66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? 67. Facebook or Twitter? 68. Twitter or Tumblr? 69. Are you watching tv right now? 70. Names of your bestfriends? 71. Craving something? What? 72. What colour are your towels? 72. How many pillows do you sleep with? 73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? 74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? 75. Favourite animal? 76. What colour is your underwear? 77. Chocolate or Vanilla? 78. Favourite ice cream flavour? 79. What colour shirt are you wearing? 80. What colour pants? 81. Favourite tv show? 82. Favourite movie? 83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? 84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? 85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? 86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? 87. First person you talked to today? 88. Last person you talked to today? 89. Name a person you hate? 90. Name a person you love? 91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? 92. In a fight with someone? 93. How many sweatpants do you have? 94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? 95. Last movie you watched? 96. Favourite actress? 97. Favourite actor? 98. Do you tan a lot? 99. Have any pets? 100. How are you feeling? 101. Do you type fast? 102. Do you regret anything from your past? 103. Can you spell well? 104. Do you miss anyone from your past? 105. Ever been to a bonfire party? 106. Ever broken someone’s heart? 107. Have you ever been on a horse? 108. What should you be doing? 109. Is something irritating you right now? 110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? 111. Do you have trust issues? 112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? 113. What was your childhood nickname? 114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? 115. Do you play the Wii? 116. Are you listening to music right now? 117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? 118. Do you like Chinese food? 119. Favourite book? 120. Are you afraid of the dark? 121. Are you mean? 122. Is cheating ever okay? 123. Can you keep white shoes clean? 124. Do you believe in love at first sight? 125. Do you believe in true love? 126. Are you currently bored? 127. What makes you happy? 128. Would you change your name? 129. What your zodiac sign? 130. Do you like subway? 131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 133. Favourite lyrics right now? 134. Can you count to one million? 135. Dumbest lie you ever told? 136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? 137. How tall are you? 138. Curly or Straight hair? 139. Brunette or Blonde? 140. Summer or Winter? 141. Night or Day? 142. Favourite month? 143. Are you a vegetarian? 144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? 145. Tea or Coffee? 146. Was today a good day? 147. Mars or Snickers? 148. What’s your favourite quote? 149. Do you believe in ghosts? 150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?  (via tchitsnathan)

These are really good. Drop a number or a few in my inbox :)

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

Ok but am I the only one who sees a hand?

B is about to be disowned

Metgala had passed once again, and I can't stop thinking about how badly the Batsiblings would judge every look they see. Bruce Wayne taught them to style themselves and be dolls, NOT for this.

Dick, throwing chips in TV: Go, Kylie, go! Give us nothing!

Tim: As the most fashionable sibling out of all of us, I can't stress enough how this pains me.

Stephanie: Be fr, Cass is the most fashionable one, lol.

Damian: Not to appear as Drake's supporter, but Brown, I know that you are not joining us to judge this humiliation ritual, when you wear violet converses with yellow capri pants.

Duke: This year's topic, and the way they handle it, offend me personally. Like. Please. Cassandra, nodding: You would... Slay. Jason: God, I will slay these idiots with my sword, WHAT IS THIS? Another black suit?!

Everyone: *dead silence for a whole minute* Dick, swallowing: That is surely not what I think it is. Jason: I am starting to shoot in a minute. Tim, closing his eyes: I am speechless. Bruce Wayne on their screens, who was invited to the Metgala, but was suggested by the PR-team to wear the most boring outfit, so people would still perceive him as a bimbo with no thoughts behind his big blue eyes: *waving at the camera* Stephanie, scrolling her phone: Oh, that's not a thirst trap edits with this look on my timeline that I see. Everyone: *terrified screech*

Finnaly

(click for better resolution)

Fanart for @caffeinatedflumadiddlebutpjo ‘s Son of Sea Foam AU! I love this fic and I can’t wait for the sequel. Fic link down below, for anyone interested: