1 AM (Tim Drake X Reader)

1 AM (Tim Drake x Reader)

Request: Yes   Prompt: “Do you ever get a meme stuck in your head?”  Words: 710

Note; This is such a cliche Tim fanfic, but I wanted to write something ridiculous so here it goes.

“Tim,” you drawled out, sprawling dramatically across the mattress, “please come to bed.”

The laptop that sat on the desktop was on a low brightness setting, yet the light that it emitted was still far too bright for one in the morning. Tim sat hunched over it, a hand running through his hair. Shakily he held up an empty mug.

“I just finished my coffee.” Tim pulled out another textbook from his bag. You wondered how he managed to carry so many books at once without snapping his back in the process. With a loud sigh, you turned your back to Tim, attempting to block out the sleep-disturbing light. When that didn’t work, you kicked the blanket off your legs, forcing yourself from the bed and over to Tim.

“Timothy Drake,” he always hated it when you called him that, “come to bed,” forcing yourself between him and his desk, you plopped down onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders lazily. It was his turn to let out an exaggerated sigh.

“I have to finish this project,” he said, “and I’ve got too much energy to sleep.” His reasoning was valid, but not enough to convince you.

“Cuddle me,” you stated, your hand creeping up to close the laptop.

“I think technically, I am right now,” he pushed your hand away from the computer. You buried your face into the crook of this neck, a tactic that usually worked on him when it came to getting something that you wanted. In this case, it was not sleeping alone.

“No, in the bed. Tim, you need to sleep.” Your voice was audibly tired and on the verge of being a whisper.

“I just drank coffee, I won’t be able to-” he trailed off as he noticed you begin to drift to sleep. Slowly, with a feeling of defeat, Tim shut the laptop, cloaking the room in darkness. Wrapping an arm around your back, and hooking the other under your legs, the young vigilante hoisted you up, carrying you over to the unmade bed. Carefully, he lowered you, as to not wake you up. Once you were situated, Tim climbed over you, coming to lay beside you.

After the room went silent, and it seemed like you had both fallen asleep, Tim let out yet another loud sigh.

“You’re still awake?” You groaned, flipping over so you could face him.

“I told you I-”

“Drank coffee, a-huh, I know.” The room went quiet again, though it wasn’t a silence of peace and quiet nor sleep, it was awkward.

“Do you ever get a meme stuck in your head?” Tim asked, rather loudly for such an ungodly hour. After a slight pause, you pushed yourself up on one elbow to look your boyfriend over.

“What?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Do you ever get a meme stuck in your head?” He repeated, the question sounded genuine. The combination of being awake at one in the morning, and having drank eight cups of coffee was becoming an obviously bad decision. “Like, the same one just repeats over and over in your head, and you can’t get it out, or stop thinking about it. Like a song gets stuck in your head, but a meme instead.” Tim continued to blabber on,  as you watched him give deep thought to the words he spoke. The boy was actually troubled by what seemed to be a situation he was in.

“I don’t know,” you said, voice cracking slightly.

“I can’t stop thinking about Kermit the goddamn Frog!”

There was a loud thump on the wall beside Tim, coming from the other side of it. Damian’s room.

“Drake, go to sleep!” The preteen yelled from his room, sounding rather furious.

“He can hear us?”

“Very old house, even thinner walls- yes, I can!” Damian yelled back. There was an abrupt silence, you weren’t sure if it was awkward or not. For a brief moment, you naively thought that maybe that would be the end of the long night, but of course, when was a night in the Wayne Manor ever over?

“Tell me about a different meme so I can stop thinking about this one.”

The Mask (Dick Grayson x Reader)

Prompt: “Wanna hang out on the rooftop? It’s nice tonight.”

Requested: Yes

At midnight you laid on the couch in your apartment, the light from the television illuminating the otherwise dark room. It seemed like Saturday took forever to arrive, and now that it was upon you, you were celebrating by not sleeping. Watching a show you had already seen before in its entirety, and eating a half empty tub of ice cream seemed, also, like a good idea.

Mentally, you kept denying it, but you weren’t up to see if dying of sleep deprivation could actually happen to you, you were awake and waiting for him. ‘Him’ being a certain vigilante who had been dropping by your apartment for a month and a half, knocking on the window by the fire escape, and spending hours with you until he was called away to finish his nightly work as a hero of Blüdhaven. You never asked his real name or begged to see his face, only hoped one day he would be comfortable enough to show you who he was. For now, you called him Nightwing.

Sure enough, there came a tap on the glass, bringing you away from the television, and over to the window. Undoing the latch, you pushed up the wooden frame, coming face to face with your beloved crimefighter.

“Hey,” you said in a breathy voice, taking in the rush of cool, salty air, “right on time.”

“I pride myself on my punctuality,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face. There was a pause in the conversation as the two you stared at one another, though his mask obscured the view of his eyes there was still so much to take in about him. The sharpness of his jaw, full lips, a curved nose, and of course, the famous Nightwing suit. One that every one of Gotham and Blüdhaven was familiar with. “Wanna hang out on the rooftop? It’s nice tonight.” He said motioning towards the top of the apartment complex. With a smile, you nodded your head, taking his extended hand as he assisted you onto the fire escape.

The two of you sat perched on the edge of the building, overlooking the neighborhood. The whistle of the soft breeze between buildings soothing away any stress the day might have brought. No words were exchanged between either of you, mutually choosing to quietly enjoy the nice weather that was so rare in Blüdhaven. It must have been at least ten minutes of silence before Nightwing spoke.

“This is why I like Blüdhaven more than Gotham,” he said, his voice soft and calm, “Not that I have anything against Gotham, I practically grew up there, but here it’s just,” a pause of thought, “different.” You hummed in agreement.

“You grew up in Gotham?” You asked after a bit, curiosity laced in the tone of your voice. Nightwing turned his head towards you, seemingly surprised you caught that part of what he said.

“Uh, yeah, pretty much.” He confirmed, nodding his head. There were a few bits of information about him you clung to. He referred to Robin, Red Robin, and Red Hood as his brothers. He also talked briefly about the Batgirls that wander around Gotham as well. There had been mention of teammates outside of the ones in Gotham, but secret identities were important to these people, so you didn’t push. You were afraid you’d ask too much one day, resulting in Nightwing never coming back to visit you.

Still, you wondered who it was under the mask. What his name, his real name, was. What he did when he wasn’t doing his job as a vigilante. He knew so much about you- your name, what you did for a living, where you lived.

“I know so little about you,” You didn’t mean to say it out loud, or maybe you did, either way, Nightwing heard your remark, and dropped his head a bit, a huff leaving his mouth.

“My father might kill me,” he said, his voice sounded a little defeated, or tired. Carefully he reached up to his mask, pulling the blue and black cover away from his face. With nothing to obscure the view of his face, blue eyes now visible to you, he was now entirely familiar.

You had seen his face before. You had thought it even when the mask was still on, that the man in front of you looked eerily similar to someone you’ve already seen.

Nightwing looked back at you, waiting for some response, but instead, you continued to gaze at him, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

“I have seen you before,” you said, turning on the edge of the building to face him better. He moved as well, making it so you could see his face completely.

“Gotham Times loves writing about my brothers and my father,” he said, rolling his eyes, “myself included.”

Gotham Times. Where would he have a slot? There was the sports section, the charity sections, ads, the political section took up half the issue, business section, celebrity section- oh.

You definitely knew who the man sitting in front of you was. He was right, a picture of him usually accompanied one of Bruce Wayne. He had been in a spotlight in Gotham since he was a little kid.

“Wait, you’re-” you were going to blurt out what you had pieced together when he cut you off.

“It’s a nice night, windows are open, people can hear,” he said, a finger to his lips, telling you to quiet down. Nodding, you grabbed his hand, pulling him up from the ledge and back down the fire escape to your apartment. Once both inside, you slammed the window shut and turned to him.

“Richard Grayson,” you sighed out, a smile plastered on your face. He nodded.

“My friends call me Dick,” he replied, you raised an eyebrow, “seriously,” he let out a soft laugh. The light from the television still was the only source of light in the room, illuminating one side of Dick’s face. He looked as if he was still waiting for you to say something. You frankly didn’t know what to say;

'Thanks for telling me who you are?’

'You’re beautiful?’

'Does this mean all the Wayne Family are superheroes?’

The latter of which you felt you knew the answer to deep down.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, subconsciously taking a few steps toward him, “for taking off the mask. Now that I see you without it, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.” Dick smirked, looking down at the mask he held in his hand.

“It’s not as unbelievable as you think,” he whispered. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear what he had said, but standing so close to him you could hear even the shallowest of breaths. His eyes slowly came up to meet yours, the blue color of his eyes seemed magnified in the lighting of the room. It took a moment to build up the courage, but after, you held your breath and leaned forward, your mouth coming to meet his. His skin was still cold from sitting on the rooftop, but it felt nice against your warming skin. The kiss was soft and quick, the two of you leaning back ever so slightly to meet eyes again. A look that said, 'Should we do that again?’, which was answered by the sound of the mask he had been holding hitting the hardwood of the floor, and his arms coming around your waist to pull you closer. The kisses that followed were much longer, though still soft, and exactly what you wanted it to be, and what he needed it to be.

Overprotective Part Four (Jason Todd Fanfic)

Words: 2,874      

Note: Lots of more people in this one. Ruby is seventeen.

It was a mission that her father had forbidden her from going on, but it was a demand she chose to ignore. Teenage rebellion, she supposed with a smirk. As wisps of auburn hair whirled around her face in the cool, salty wind, her eyes tracked the moving criminals. The lead that she had read on her Uncle Tim’s computer told her that the thugs she was watching were working for Two-Face, a villain she particularly despised. When she heard the activity going on in Old Gotham, she proposed going out to fix the problem herself, to which her father and Damian both dismissed her proposition, instead instructing her to stay at home. Ruby chose to simply ignore both their commands.

Grappling from edge to edge of buildings, Ruby stayed on the heels of the thugs. They drove two vans and one truck, with ten men in total. Dent wasn’t even in attendance. Ruby couldn’t think of an easier mission then this as she ran across the edge of the clock tower. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say to her father when she returned home from the mission with new leads, and the thugs suddenly off the radar, but she had no time to ponder such things. She noted that the vehicles were headed to Brown Bridge- out of Gotham. She had to stop them before they left the city.

Reaching to the left side of her utility belt, she pulled out a gadget she had seen her Uncle Damian use when the two worked together. She loaded it three times and took aim at the truck. The plate that she had loaded it with magnetized to the hood of the truck, and with a flash of yellow light, it had drained the car’s battery. She aimed at one van and did the same until all three cars were stopped. Slowly, and with a commotion, men began to unloaded from the cars. Now was her chance.

Damian had always taught her to start at the back of the group and pick the ones not paying attention off first. Once the others take notice of the disappearing teammates, grapple back up to a building, and take as many as you can out with batarangs or a taser, which her father had granted her use of. As she worked through the steps, picking men off one by one, she let out a laugh.

“Oh shit,” one man exclaimed, “it’s Robin.” Ruby laughed again, prideful, and eager to show off to her family about the work she had completed. Taking the last three men out by hand was hard, Ruby was still quite small. She took a few hits and kicks, but she learned quickly to shake it off and keep fighting. Eventually, she had taken all the thugs out, standing in the middle of unconscious bodies while panting heavily. What was so hard about that, Dad? If only he could have seen her, maybe he would have been proud. Ruby knew that he was more than likely going to bench her for sneaking out, and if he didn’t, Damian would.

Once she had her breathing back under control, she began to unlatch the door on the first van. Slamming the doors open, she peered in to see an empty car, with no equipment. Ruby shrugged, moving on to the next car. The second van also had no equipment or anything of importance stored in it. Ruby raised an eyebrow. Strange, she thought, everything was in the truck? Approaching the truck she pulled up her hood and situated her gadget back into her belt. Unlatching the back of the truck with a loud clanking sound, the door was shoved open from the inside.

Ruby felt the air knocked out of her lungs as she was kicked back, landing on the hard ground with a thud. Struggling to breathe for a moment, she peered up, adjusting her domino mask. Ruby had been sure he wasn’t there when she read over the leads or counted the thugs when she first arrived at the scene, but as Dent stared down at her with crazed eyes, she realized how wrong she was. She wasn’t prepared to fight Two-Face by herself, or the two abnormally large thugs that stepped out of the truck after him.

“I was wondering if you were going to catch us before we got to the border,” Harvey spoke, his voice gravelly. Ruby groaned, rolling her head back.

“Y’know, for an old man, you got a mean kick,” she said, thumping a hand against her chest. She kept her eyes on him as she stood back up. “But is that still the best you can do?” She was aware that she was pushing buttons when she wasn’t supposed to be- this wasn’t a fight for her. She’d be lucky if she walked out alive. Two-Face shook his head, reaching behind the tail of his jacket to pull out his silver and black gun. The two thugs held large guns themselves, Ruby wasn’t sure what kind, but she knew that one gun could take her out with one bullet.

Two-Face let out a sigh, beginning to load the gun. Ruby scanned over him, his black coat was the same one he had been wearing since he first began his crusade as a notorious Gotham maniac. His hair had gone gray on the normal side of his body, but the hair on the burnt and mangled side remained stark white. It was an odd contrast. Harvey loaded the gun, moving towards Ruby, stopping in front of her stomping his foot slightly and clicking his tongue. He reached a long finger into his pocket and pulled out the coin Ruby was unfortunately familiar with.

“Last time we met, the odds were in your favor, and you got away,” he remarked. The ‘last time’ Ruby had been with Red Arrow, her best friend Lian, and they narrowly escaped without a bullet in each of their bodies. The main difference this time was that Ruby was alone, and how often are the odds twice in your favor? “Maybe I can catch a Robin by her toe this time,” Dent said. Ruby scoffed, though she felt her heart begin to pound. She had taken her tracker off before she had left, as to not be followed, but that meant there was no longer communication between her and the other Bats. Dent clicked the gun once and held it up at eye level to Ruby. “Heads, I kill you. Tails, you get to leave. Deal?”

Ruby was about to respond but bit her tongue as a mass of shadow slid down behind the two thugs, effectively taking them out in silence, going unnoticed by the man who still held the gun to Robin’s head. Elegantly, Dent flipped the coin into the air but was rather quickly distracted by the massive hand the grabbed the barrel of the gun, bending the metal with ease. The clink of the coin on the pavement snapped Ruby out of shock, and she ducked out of the way, retreating into the shadows as she watched Dent be taken down with ease by Bizarro.

Ruby sank further into the shadows, an attempt to disappear, but was taken off guard when a hand firmly grabbed her shoulder yanking her back out into the light. Red hair that cascaded down past her broad shoulders was the first thing that Ruby saw. Then the angry face of her mother. Artemis, though not Ruby’s birth mother, had taken up the title of mom when Ruby was just a little girl. The Amazon had been hesitant at first, but her love for Jason, and eventually Ruby, was stronger than the feeling of fear. And Amazons laugh at the face of fear. Ruby haunched back a bit.

“What are you doing?”  Artemis was practically seething in anger. Her green eyes, which were usually gentle when directed at Ruby, were hard and concerned. If her mother was this angry, then Ruby could only guess how angry her father was.

“Red Him angry at Baby Red,” Bizarro chimed in, his voice booming from where he stood over the thugs, and a chained Two-Face. “Very angry,” he added for emphasis. Ruby flinched, the pride she felt having washed away almost completely and replaced by regret.

Artemis grabbed her daughter by the hood of her costume, beginning to walk her to the car, wherein, Ruby was crammed against Bizarro. Artemis sped home, Two-Face had been tossed in the trunk. A quick stop to Arkham Asylum and Dent was no longer the problem at hand for Ruby- it was facing her father’s wrath. Ruby slowly slumped down into her seat as her mother ranted from the driver's seat. When they arrived home, the teen nearly refused to exit the car and enter the home. Regret had completely swallowed up her pride by the time she was slinking through the doorway of the apartment, and into the living room where Jason lounged on the couch.

“Two-Face is in Arkham now,” Artemis informed her husband, to which he nodded in response. There was a moment of complete silence in which Ruby waited for her father to say something to her, and in that time, her mother had disappeared from the room leaving the two alone. Ruby remained in the doorway until Jason motioned her over to the couch. Hesitantly, Ruby moved to sit beside him. Lowering her hood and removing her mask she waited for him to speak first, which took a painful amount of time. She knew that he was waiting on purpose- he wanted her to feel guilty, and that she did. It was his form of punishment, she supposed. It was working.

Jason ran a hand over his face, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks and jaw. His hair was standing up in all directions- he had been pulling at it more than likely, as he did when he was anxious or frustrated.

“I have been trying to think about what to say to you since I realized you had snuck off,” Jason began, his voice hard and annoyed. “But, I don’t know exactly what to say to make you realize why what you did was...wrong,” he paused again, Ruby said nothing. “So, I figured now is a good time to tell you something I have been needing to share with you. I wanted to tell you the day you became Robin, but I didn’t know if that would have done anything to sway your decision. I didn’t want to scare you, I guess,” his voice remained stiff, but there was more emotion than just annoyance as he continued.

“What?” Ruby asked, a little shocked that he wasn’t yelling at her. His reaction was far from the one she was expecting the ride home.

“When I was two years younger then you are now- fifteen- I was Robin. I had been Robin at that point for a few years, so I thought I knew what I was doing, I was far too confident and arrogant. Prideful. I didn’t listen to adults- Bruce, Alfred, Dick. Whatever, I just thought I knew better than them. I was the all-powerful Robin, nothing could hurt me, right?” Jason, once again, ran a hand over his face, his eyes focused on the ground. “I got over-confident one day and thought I could take something into my own hands, no help from anybody else. Just me. I ran off, like you did, and took on something I couldn’t handle. It turned out to be something that I wasn’t equipped to deal with on my own, someone I couldn’t deal with on my own.”

“Who?” Ruby questioned softly, her eyes staring intently at her father. Jason huffed.

“It doesn’t matter now, Ruby. But-” Jason seemed to struggle for words, something that Ruby wasn’t used to seeing. Jason was fairly well-spoken. “I died.” The room went deafeningly quiet. Ruby questioned if she heard him correctly. How could he have died? He was right in front of her, breathing, and had a beating heart. Had he gone mad since she left? “I had been killed by a bad guy. I was dead for months before Talia Al Ghul tossed me in the Lazarus Pit, and brought me back. I went through hell because I got too cocky, Ruby. My life was altered completely because I didn’t listen.”

Ruby said nothing, as she did not know what to say in response to what her father was telling her. How could that possibly be true? But why would he make up a lie like that? Ruby shook her head, mimicking Jason’s actions of running a hand over her face, and through her hair.

“A-are you making this up? Cause this sounds pretty made up. You died? That isn’t possible!” Ruby stood from the couch, adding a certain emphasis to her words. Jason watched her patiently. He couldn’t even count how many times he has told someone about his death, but none were so imminent as telling his child. Jason bit the side of his middle finger.

“I wish I was making it up Rue, but I am not. So you can imagine why I am telling you this.” Truthfully, and horrifyingly, it did not seem to Ruby that he was lying. She had so many questions if it was true. “Ruby, I can’t let anything like what happened to me, happen to you. But when you do stuff like this, that becomes hard, and frankly, it gives me a heart attack,” he chuckled breathlessly at the last part. He wasn’t laughing, he was nervous. Ruby opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to think of what to say, or how to phrase it.

“But y-you’re here? How? I don’t-” she struggled, her voice fading out and words trailing off. Jason’s mouth was pulled in a tight line, something he did when he was bothered by something.

“It doesn’t matter that I came back, it matters that I died in the first place. Me coming back was a one in a million chance, not everyone gets so lucky,” Jason said, standing up from the couch himself. “I am telling you this so you don’t make the same mistake I did.”

“You have to tell me more than what you are! Who ki-...who did it?” Ruby found herself not being comfortable saying ‘killed’ out loud.

“Ruby,” Jason started.

“Why won’t you tell me?” she hissed. Jason rolled his head back in annoyance. He knew how she would react to his answer- he never planned on getting that specific, but he also didn’t plan on raising such a stubborn daughter. He couldn’t withhold that information, he felt as if he was lying to her, and he didn’t want to do that. As he paused, his grey eyes searching her shockingly blue ones, he felt a rise in his anxiety. Once he told her, she’d stop at nothing to get justice for him. She was overprotective of him like that. Jason crossed his arms with a huff.

“Because, if I tell you, you’ll only put yourself in more danger for me,” he reasoned. She barked out a forced laugh.

“Tell me, or I will find out myself,” she demanded. She knew she had no right to demand things from him, especially after her previous actions, but she needed to know. This wasn’t something she could so easily brush off and forget about. Jason glared, but Ruby held her ground. As she always did.

“The Joker,” he finally answered.

It had been years since the Joker had been imprisoned. There were constant eyes on the clown since, but when Batman, more specifically Bruce Wayne, retired for years, the Joker disappeared. The inseparable duo, Jason thought grimly. Jason watched Ruby’s expression contort from one of distress to one of pure rage. Her ability to change moods was similar to Jason in a remarkable way. The temper she had was nearly unadulterated, despite Jason’s attempts to teach her to control it. She was too much like him to learn otherwise. At the age of seventeen, it seemed she almost did not want to. Her eyes turned hard, unblinking, and it looked as if she stopped breathing. Almost a mirrored image of Jason. Her nose scrunched up slightly in a sort of snarl, and her jaw clenched so hard it looked almost painful like she’d crack a tooth if she clenched any harder. Jason stepped forward in her direction, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek.

“Don’t get angry, I don’t need you to,” he spoke, it was a demand, but a soft one.

“I’m not angry for you, I am just angry,” she corrected.

“He’s in prison, he’s not getting out,”

“I am not just angry at him,” she said in a cold tone. “I know why you hate Bruce now, at least.”

Jason cocked his head to the side. ‘Hate’ was a strong word. He never hated Bruce, he couldn’t. Ruby seemed to misunderstand that.

“Ruby, I do not hate Bruce,” Jason said, his thumb swiping across her cheek to catch the tear that had fallen. Ruby huffed.

“Well, I think I do.”

Dead Poets Society (1989) dir. Peter Weir

Overprotective Part 5 (Dad!Jason)

I decided to make this part because I wanted to describe in more detail Jason’s feelings about becoming a father. This part was made specifically because I just felt like it. This part can be read as a stand-alone, but part one (on my masterlist) will offer more details on how Ruby came to be for those who haven’t read the full story. This part is more about Jason than Ruby, and its pretty short.

Throughout most of Jason’s life, he was uncertain of what the word ‘love’ truly meant, and what the connotations of it were. He was almost entirely sure that he had loved his mother, the way that a son does, but she had betrayed him in a way and got herself killed by her own volition. Whenever Willis would raise his voice at Jason when he was a child, and frighten him to the point of tears, never did Catherine hush her husband, or aid her child in any way. It was a onesided love that Jason had for his mother, and much to an aching feeling in his stomach, he eventually outgrew that love, and only had resent.

He had loved his father once, for a very brief time. He loved his father when Willis would pick up Jason’s small form off the couch where he had fallen asleep, and bring him to his bed, where he planted a kiss on his forehead and bid him only good dreams. He loved his father when he would come back home from work with Jason’s favorite snack, which were sour gummy worms at the time. He loved his father when Jason had a bad dream, filled with all too real horrors, and would crawl in bed beside his mother and father, buried in scratchy blankets and wrapped in his father's arms. But, of course, good things always come to an end in Jason’s life, and eventually, those good moments ceased to happen, and a small and vulnerable Jason was left with a cold space where his father once had been.

Jason loved Bruce. Loves. Much to his misfortune. Jason still loves the man that replaced his biological father and gave him the proper home and love that he didn’t think he deserved. Though, it’s on nights when Jason is alone, not inside Wayne Manor, while the others all eat dinner made by Alfred, that he wonders why did he have to love Bruce so much? There was always a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of it, and that bitter taste almost always brought on a stinging in his eyes. So, Jason tried hard not to think of it too often.

Jason considers the love he has for Bruce, his mentor, and possibly a father, unfortunate because of the circumstances. Jason grew up reading, watching, and listening to stories about love, between any two people family or not, in which sacrifice is the ultimate showing of love. Sacrifice, in Jason’s personal dictionary, didn’t necessarily imply giving up one's life, it simply meant doing what needs to be done, no matter the consequence. Because you love that person. And no one had ever done that for Jason- not even Bruce, who was Jason’s father at the time of the young boy’s death. Jason could recall many times when he did sacrifice something for someone he loved, and yet, no one had ever returned the gesture. He tried not to let that bother him- it was a lot to ask of someone. Wasn’t it? Maybe he was simply suicidal and willing to die again so easily, or maybe it was that Jason didn’t know how to love something reasonably.

Jason came back from the dead with a twisted sense of what love truly was. And yet, despite the confusion, Jason loved freely. He loved his friends- Roy, Kori, Artemis, all of them. He loved them deeply and had promptly decided after befriending them, that he would, in fact, die for them.  Drastic he knew, but he supposed that their lives were simply worth more than his. The world had already forgotten about him, people don’t need him, however, the world needs his friends- therefore he would sacrifice his life for theirs if he needed to. He would sacrifice anything for them. Of course, that same sentiment went to his family members as well, but that left a hard knot in his throat.

Conclusively, Jason had his own idea as to what love was, and in actuality, it was very different from what the real world definition was. But Jason simply shrugged that off. It was a reality fuck up that he was alive- no one could tell him how to love, not when he was given a chance at life again. If anything, dying and coming back gave him a more profound idea as to what love truly was.

For years, Jason had one type of love in his life- an unreturned favor, and one that decided if he lived or died, come the circumstance if it will. That was until the carrier ended up on the entrance to his hideout, and the girl he found out was his own flesh and blood, came into his life. As per Jason’s usual style, and his typical empathy for children, he came to love the child, his child, at a rapid speed. He loved her so fast, it made him dizzy, and on the third day of her living in his apartment, which was the third day of Jason being a father, he threw up. It was nerves, he assumed, but he also held a cool hand to the pulse on his neck and felt his heart rate so elevated he was surprised he didn’t pass out or have a heart attack. What twenty year old has a heart attack?

Soon the words, “Red Hood has a baby,” started playing over and over in his head, echoing in his ears rather obnoxiously. Red Hood had a baby, true, and he was determined to keep her a secret. To protect her, to keep her safe. He quickly decided that being a crimefighting vigilante would have to come to a slow, much to his teammate's annoyance, but mild understanding. Jason needed to stay home with her, and he wasn’t about to tell anyone about her in order to get a babysitter. It was absolutely, and rather unnecessarily overprotective. A babysitter wouldn’t do any harm to his baby, it was their job to protect children, and his family would be willing to watch her, he knew, but he didn’t care.

The nerves that had been so wound up when he first found her, had finally unwound, and Jason was left feeling nothing but a new kind of love. It was separate from what he felt from friends or even the rest of the family. It was a kind of love that he had never experienced and was determined to never let that love go. It was a feeling of being ready to do anything for that child, to die for her, but not wanting to die, because if he died, he wouldn’t be able to see her anymore. It was feeling the happiest he had ever been- even when Bruce took him in for the first time- when his daughter wrapped her small, chubby hand around one of Jason’s boney, and calloused fingers. It was how the babbling noises of nonsense that she made were the best thing Jason had ever heard. Everything that she did made Jason happy, even when she woke up crying loudly, or when she threw a fit because she had been angered by something. She was a true gem in his life, for that which she was named. Ruby.

And what stemmed from that love he had for her, was her love for him. Jason couldn’t recall a time when someone spoke the words, “I love you,” to him. Not from Catherine, or Willis, nor Bruce Wayne. He was always left unsure whether they truly loved him, or if they simply felt obligated to. Then, there was Ruby, who didn’t need to speak the words to let him know that she did truly love him. And that was in the way that she looked at him- like she needed him, and never wanted him to go away. How she smiled when he did, laughed when he did or cried when he did. But, Jason’s favorite thing, though it did make him feel quite guilty, was how she never wanted him to leave. If he made for the door and left her sitting in the arms of someone else, she would promptly begin to cry. Not loud, and ear piercing, but a small whimper until her father returned to hold her, and of course, Jason always went back to her. He would take her back from whoever, and hold her against his chest, whispering to her softly until she settled down. It was only when she was asleep that Jason could slip out. She loved him with all of her small heart, and never wanted him to leave, and Jason had never seen someone care about him that much.

I have got a question for you all:

I have multiple continuations of Overprotective in the works, all differing in Ruby’s age. Would y'all care if I posted say one where she’s older today, but in a week or two, one where she’s young again? I ask this because I know you guys have been waiting a long time for some writing, and I haven’t posted in a long time. The one I have finished right now is when she is older, but that would put the story out of order I guess? Would that matter to you guys? Once I make that masterlist I will put the story in order. Promise. It’s just gonna messy for now. I don’t want the story to be hard to follow.