Overprotective Part Three (Jason Todd Fanfic)

Overprotective Part Three (Jason Todd Fanfic)

 We got Jason and Ruby, Dickbabs, Damian and Tim and Cass, and Broose with his tiny granddaughter. Tight. Back to Ruby being a small bebe again cause what is continuity. I don’t know her.

    "Go," he said firmly, Jason glared at him. "She'll be fine."     "Don't rush me, Richard," Jason replied bitterly. He remained crouched down at Ruby's eye level, which wasn't very high, he had to lean down very far. Her blue-hued eyes stared back at him curiously as she continued to knaw at her fingers. Jason ran his own boney finger across her cheek softly, the baby hummed happily, grabbing onto his hand and Jason felt his heart swell a little. How could he leave her? He didn't want to.     "You wouldn't rip a band-aid off slowly, would you?" Alfred spoke softly, less firm then how Dick had spoken. Jason shook his head. "Then, think of this instant like a band-aid. Do it fast, and the pain won't seem to bad." He was speaking the truth, Jason knew. But for some reason, the thought of being away from his baby was making him think irrationally. This would be the first time Jason had even been away from her for so long since he had found her a few months ago. One week away from Ruby. Impossible!, he thought, not happening.     "I don't want to leave," Jason said stubbornly. He had to leave, though. He told Roy and Kory that he would help them on the mission- they were relying on him. He didn't think too much of it at the instant when he agreed to go, but now he was fully aware that agreeing to go meant that he would have to leave Ruby with her uncles, aunts, and Alfred. Bruce wasn't home much, not that it made much difference, Jason supposed. "I can't leave her," Jason said as he leaned down even further to brush his nose against Ruby's cheek, again the girl made a happy noise at her father's affection.       Jason didn't know why exactly he was scared. He trusted his family to watch after her- they weren't idiots. And how much safer does it get then with a hoard of crime-fighting vigilantes. His thoughts were very irrational, he knew full well. So what was he so afraid of? He would have to eventually leave her alone, let her do things by herself, but why did that time have to be now? Jason peered down at the baby in her crib with weary eyes, she was so little. She needed him to protect her. But he needed to go. Jason gripped tightly to the wooden frame of the crib in frustration.     "Okay, let's try this," Dick said, Jason could hear him approaching, though he didn't bother to look up, not taking his eyes off Ruby. Dick came to stand next to him. "You don't leave her, she leaves you. I'll take her, to another room or something, away from you, so you don't have to leave her. Yeah?" Strategically speaking, that was a good idea. But, of course, Jason was irrational.     "No," he spoke simply. Dick groaned.     "I am gonna do it anyway!" the older brother huffed, looking pointedly at Jason, who glared back.     "Don't touch my baby," he said, and Dick laughed a bit. Jason rolled his eyes, releasing his grip from the side of the crib. Ugh. "Fine," he knew he was being ridiculous, he had to leave, Ruby would be perfectly fine. Dick smiled a bit at Jason before picking Ruby up from her crib. His slender arms held onto her tightly as she wiggled a bit, finding joy in getting attention from her Uncle. 

    "Say 'Bye'," Dick said to her.     "I wrote a list downstairs," Jason said in a rushed voice as Dick began his departure from the room, "It has all her favorite food on it, and stuff like that. She doesn't like thunderstorms. She likes it when you read to her," Jason said the things he realized he hadn't said before, and what he thought to be vital information to his daughter's happiness. "I am calling every night," he added.     "Say, 'Bye, Dad'," Dick spoke one last time, offering a wave to Jason, which Ruby mimicked quickly. Then she was gone.   "Bye, Sweetheart," Jason replied softly, panic settling in. He felt his throat begin to constrict a bit, his eyes a bit blurry. This is stupid. He had to remind himself that she would be content spending a week with her copious amounts of family members, who would all over overjoyed to spend some time with her. She'll be happy, he thought, as he blinked hard a few times.     "Are you alright, Master Jason," Alfred spoke up again. Jason ran a hand over his face. "That was rather pitiful." Great. Jason let out an amused huff, reaching down to grab his duffle bag.     "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, more to himself than anyone. Throwing the bag over his shoulder, and pulling the collar of his jacket up a bit further to hide his reddened face, Jason stomped rather loudly out of the room, determined to get out of the mansion before he broke even more. He had a reputation to keep up, father or not. He only hoped the upcoming mission could distract him from the sadness that was making its way into his stomach.

    "He said she likes sweet potatoes," Damian spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, pointing to the scribbled words on the piece of paper. Tim glanced at the words, before letting out a groan.     "Then why is she not eating it?" he asked rather desperately, wiping furiously at the spit up food that had gotten to his hand. Ruby promptly bounced her spoon off her tray, the plastic utensil landing somewhere across the kitchen. Damian snickered.   "She doesn't like you," he said, his nose scrunching up as he watched food dribble down Ruby's chin. "And really Drake? Clean her up, or something." he motioned to the rather dirty child, who seemed perfectly content on giving her Uncle Tim hell. Really her father's child. Tim used the bib she wore to wipe her face clean like he had seen Jason do before. "What is so bad about the food anyway?" Damian inquired, grabbing the jar of pureed sweet potatoes. He quickly grabbed his own spoon, wanting to see what about it was bad, how could potatoes possibly be bad? Damian loved potatoes.   But, not these ones. He gagged abruptly, spitting the contents back out into the sink, a loud gagging sound resonating through the kitchen, along with Tim and Ruby's amused laughter.     "That's fucking disgusting," Damian croaked.     "Hey, that's a bad word!" Tim chided. He felt himself sound like Dick. He groaned again.   "It's gross, Drake, stop feeding that to her. Try something else," the young boy insisted, motioning towards the fridge, where her other jars of food sat. Tim shook his head.   "This is supposed to be her favorite, though," Tim said, "Apparently it doesn't get better than this."     "Why are Americans subjecting their poor babies to this processed...crap."   "Are things okay?" A female voice sounded through the kitchen. Oh good, emergency relief has come. Cass stood in the doorway of the kitchen, looking rather surprised by the scene that had unfolded in the kitchen. Sweet potatoes everywhere. Tim covered in them. Damian, a shade of green. Ruby, laughing happily.     "No!" Damian yelled dramatically, "Todd's mini-demon is recking the place, and refusing to eat," he explained, arms flailing in exaggeration. Cass raised an eyebrow, moving towards her niece with determination. She will feed the baby if her foolish brothers can not. She motioned for Tim to get up from his seat so she could sit, which he seemed to happily do. Picking up a new plastic baby spoon, and taking the jar from Damian, Cassandra began to feed Ruby. The baby stared happily at her aunt, opening her mouth and chomping down on the sweet potatoes with minimal teeth, humming happily. Cass smiled back at the little girl.   "What?" Tim whispered, watching as his older sister somehow managed to feed their niece. What was she doing differently than him? Damian began to laugh again.   "See? She just doesn't like you, Drake."

  Getting to play house with Dick seemed like a good idea at first- a glimpse into what could be their future. Barbara had happily taken to the suggestion of watching Ruby for a night, the baby coming to stay at their apartment. Ruby had been happy at first, when she arrived, pulling at Barbara's hair, reaching for Dick when she wanted to be held, curling happily into one of their chests as they watched television in the evening.     But it was at night when things, of course, took a turn. The baby woke up at around two in the morning, needing to be changed. Simple enough, Dick had thought. Soon she was changed, and content again as he layed her back into her portable crib.     Then at four in the morning, she woke up, sounding much more distressed. Barbara was the one to get up that time, shuffling over to the crib. Tiredly, she lifted the baby up into her arms, beginning to rock her. She checked her diaper- it was fine. And she wasn't eating at night anymore- seven months old don't need to eat at night, according to Jason. So quietly, Barbara continued to rock the baby, or bounce her, whispering softly to her in an attempt to get her to calm down, which seemingly wasn't happening. It went on long enough that Dick got up as well, quietly questioning Barbara if she needed help.     "I don't know what she wants," Barbara sighed, exhausted. Dick stepped closer to his fiancee, pulling her towards him so that Ruby was cradled between the two of them, and Barbara could rest her head on his shoulder. She felt her eyes getting heavy as Dick hushed Ruby, his voice soft and calm. The baby seemed to quiet down a little, but still, a continuous whimper fell from her lips.     "I think she misses her father," Dick whispered. He was probably right, it was the fifth day since Jason had left. Eventually, after a few minutes of standing there, Ruby quieted down completely, her head supported by Barbara's hand, and tiny hands gripping onto her shirt. "We should keep her with us," Dick said. Barbara laughed.     "Jason is gonna want his baby back when he gets home," she mumbled tiredly, though a smile stayed on her pink lips. Red hair fell further into her face as she buried her face into the crook of Dick's neck.     "No," he said lightly, "I mean for the rest of the night- or morning I guess. I think she's lonely." he corrected. Barbara nodded, liking the idea of going back to bed and cuddling with Dick and Ruby. "Besides," he continued, "we can have our own babies to keep, we don't need to steal Jason's." Barbara felt herself blush a little, the concept making her a little nervous, but she supposed in a good way. She placed a kiss on Dick's bare shoulder, hugging her niece closer.   "Don't get ahead of yourself," she said, another smile gracing her reddened face, "we still gotta get married."

  All these children that he had and Bruce didn't know how to take care of a baby. In his defense, he didn't have any of his sons, or his daughter, when they were babies, they were much older when he adopted them. No siblings. No prior experience with babies. Ruby seemed to pay no mind. The Batman held her awkwardly as she wiggled in his arms, pulling at his hair, and cape. He had taken off his mask, as to not scare her, and the little girl had lit up at the sight of her grandfather. Bruce had scoped her out of Tim's arms and into his own, where she began immediately to use him as a sort of playground.     "Ow," He said monotonously. Tim snorted.     "The Batman- taken down by his baby granddaughter. I can see the headlines now," he remarked, sarcasm laced through his tone. Teenagers.     "She is pulling my hair," Bruce explained, trying to unlock the tight grip the girl had on his head. "And it...hurts."     "Master Bruce," Alfred began, "might I suggest, putting her down in her pen. Where she can't hurt you."     "No, I want to hold her," Bruce argued. It was rare that he ever got to spend time with his granddaughter. He was quite content in holding her, even if she mercilessly yanked at his scalp. He successfully managed to pry her little hands from his hair, where she immediately moved to pull at various parts of his suit. She seems to like his cape especially, pulling at the fabric that hung over his shoulders. Her blue eyes were wide with what seemed to be curiosity and utter amusement.     "It's in her blood to give you hell, I guess," Stephanie remarked, she pulled her mask off as she stomped into the cave, demanding that she was ready to start a night of ass-kicking.     "Well, she's my kid, kinda in her DNA, I think." The familiar male voice spoke from behind Steph.     "Oh, and look who I brought- he's home early!" The blonde explained happily, her thumb motioning behind her at Jason. He was a full day early.     There was a happy squeal from the baby as she heard her father's voice, her eyes searching for him. When her big eyes landed on him as he strode towards her, she held her arms out for him, letting out a sound that could be described as either distressed or very happy. Maybe it was both. Jason was quick to take her from Bruce's arms and held her tightly to his chest. Pressing kisses on her cheeks and forehead, Ruby continued to babble to her father.     "I missed you, too, Honey," he spoke, his eyes squeezed shut as he kept pressing quick kisses to her head. Words couldn't describe the separation anxiety he had felt being away from his baby for a week- he had to speed through the mission in order to get home quicker. Jason had resigned to never taking long mission again- not until she was older. He didn't care that his family was around him, watching as he planted kisses on Ruby, or held her closely, he just wanted to hold her. To not let go. It wasn't that he didn't trust his family with her, he simply didn't like being away from her. "I won't leave you again, baby."    

Babybird Part Two (Batmom Reader)

Momma is home and she is angry. Reader’s superhero name in Whitehawk. Enjoy. I love feedback.

There was a drastic change in the winds from the desert to Gotham city- the most notable being that Gotham’s wind was bitter and tasted of salt, and the winds of the desert were hot and dusty. You found that you didn’t particularly care for either as you hid your face in the high collar of the thick winter coat you had slipped on. Unfortunately, there were many places you would rather be than the city or the desert for that matter, but Gotham was where duty called- where your emotions told you to go, and with the loss of your son so fresh, you couldn’t bear to ignore how you felt.

Despite it being well past midnight, there were still handfuls of people pushing their way between others, weaving in between cars and buildings, and hailing taxis. Though the sheer amount of people walking far too slow was insufferable, you were grateful that the crowds of people gave you something to blend into. Something to hide in. As you shuffled amongst the groups of Gothamites, you were simply a citizen, not someone who was supposed to protect the masses.

You slipped into the bar you had been searching for, immediately bright neon green and blue lights leaked into your vision, giving you pause. When the interior of the bar became visible to you, the search for the man that brought you there in the first place began. Pushing past the drunks, half-naked women and men, and waiters, there was suddenly a pull on your hips, to which you quickly glanced down, ready to slap a hand away, but it was merely a red velvet rope. You had reached the back of the bar. A shout came from the left of you, capturing your attention rather rudely- but what else could you expect from a place like the one you found yourself in.

The man who had yelled stood well over six foot, and his suit hugged tightly to his broad shoulders, the sleek pistol in his pocket glistened in the dim lights of the room. Surely, most would be intimidated by a man such as that, but you found his presences merely an annoyance. A dog sent to retrieve you? You scoffed but had no choice but to trail after the man, heels stomping on the ground loudly.

The guard came to a stop in front of dark green curtains that concealed the meeting room, refusing to enter, much to your satisfaction. Shoving aside the material, your nose scrunched up at the smell of cigars. A burning sensation that left your eyes watering slightly, and throat covered in a dissatisfying taste. The man, short and pale, sat slouched in his extravagant chair, embroidered with lavish looking jewels, and lace. It was a shame that such a lovely piece of furniture was in the hands of such a vile man.

“Such a rarity,” the Penguin squeaked, “that a Bird comes willingly into my cage.” Indeed it was, you supposed, but you were desperate. “It is bold, my girl,” he said in a groan. You weren’t fond of being mocked, but there was no time, and this was no place, to mouth off with the indignant man. You took a seat in a much more dull chair beside him, elbows placed on the table with your chin in your palm.

“I will transfer the money, and you give me the information, that was the deal, correct?” you said, wanting to get out of the wretched bar as soon as you could, even if that meant skipping over the details. Cobblepot hummed, inhaling through the cigar he held between his red-stained fingers.

Before you had thought of entering the bar in the first place, you had sent a letter, proposing the money for the information you desired. Weeks later, you received a letter in return- he had accepted if you agreed to meet with him. And there you sat, a frown gracing your lips.

“To the point? Well, do you not know any better?” he said, leaning back. You did, but you had to move fast before the information went stale.

“Actually I do, so if I were you, I’d be careful,” you said hotly. You were in a hurry, not stupid. Smarter than the man you sat next to, but not to underestimate him either- he was anything but an idiot. The man laughed bitterly.

“The money?” he inquired, an eyebrow raised. You rolled your eyes, rummaging through the coat pocket for your phone, where you then confirmed the transfer. You showed the old man the information quickly, before shoving the phone back into its previous place. Penguin nodded quietly.

You waited for him to speak, a hand clenching the wooden side of the table. More smoke poured from his mouth, the smell harsh.

“The Blackbrick factory filled to the brim with his...goons. Maybe the blonde was there with him, I don’t frankly care. He looked mad as ever, stupid as well. No idea what the fool was up to, but it seems to me that you don’t care about that. What do you care so much about?” Penguin said, a dark eyebrow raised. He was crossing a line, and beyond that line were things you didn’t wish to discuss- especially with Oswald. When no further words were exchanged, he continued. “Who knows when he will move again if he even will. But the man is erratic, and the Big Bat seems- lazy. As of late. Good for me, not for you. And whatever you are planning on doing tonight, I sincerely hope it ends with the Joker disappearing for good.” And with that, you began the trek to Blackbrick factory.

It was hard to see from your vantage point in the rafters of the factory, but it would have to make due. There was a surprising lack of hiding places to take cover in the building and an absurd amount of thugs that wore masks similar to the clown himself. Cocky, you thought, he had done no such thing before you had left the city. Apparently Batman’s lack of attention as of late upset Joker.

The man, face painted white, marched across his makeshift stage, above the mass of thugs. He was wailing about something hysterically, none of which you could hear, and you didn’t particularly want to. His voice brought a growl out from the back of your throat. Harley stood behind him, her finger twirling in a blonde curl, a laugh of her own echoing off the stone walls. You stared intently at the two, like an animal hunting its prey. But your attention was quickly brought upward, to the opposite end of the room from where you were, on a separate vantage point.

Yellow, green, and red. Those were the colors that you saw that were so incredibly familiar, and painful. For what felt like an unreasonable amount of time, you couldn’t breathe. The air refusing to come out of your lungs, distracting you from the burning at your eyes. A pounding feeling at your chest and weak muscles came over you and weren’t sure if it was from the lack of oxygen or the feeling of utter despair. It couldn’t be. He was gone.

The colors moved in flashes as the small figure swung about the room. Closer and closer to you until he rammed directly into you, distracted by the thugs that were becoming rowdy, and excited by the words of the Joker. Before you could think about what you were doing, you grabbed the person roughly and proceeded to grapple back out of the factory- forgetting about what you had gone there to do. The child, you guessed from the sound of his voice, struggled against you, and eventually wiggled out of your hold, but you were already on the roof, away from the thugs.

You stared at him, eyes scanning over his suit- his Robin suit. He was small, but not as small as Dick and your son had been. It wasn’t hard to be larger than Jason, anyway, the boy had been malnourished his whole life.  He was older, maybe thirteen. Fourteen. The usual Robin age. As you stared at him, and he stared back wordlessly, your blood began to boil all over again. Not at the boy, but at the man you knew was responsible for him. Another one? Another child brought into the fight? Had he learned absolutely nothing? You wanted to scream but that would have brought unwanted attention. You had been so involved in your own thoughts you barely heard the words Robin spoke to you.

“A-are you, Whitehawk?” he said, voice unsteady. You relaxed the stare when you realized he was scared. You nodded. You wore your old suit that had been used back in the days of fighting alongside Batman. It had long since been retired, as you gave up crimefighting a year before you met Jason. The occasion called for a proper suit, however. But now you figured you weren’t going to get to use it. The boy's eyes visibly widened under his mask.

“Wait, you’re back? When did you get home?” he spoke to you as if he knew you. Naive. Bold. Young. You decided to humor the boy.

“A few hours ago, but I am not staying,” you said, and he frowned. He sat on the corner of the roof, peering through a broken window as to not lose track of the Joker.

“That sucks. We could use help here, with Batgirl and all,” he said, trailing off. You cocked your head to the side.

“What about Batgirl?” You inquired.

“Can’t be Batgirl in a wheelchair. She is Oracle though, and that’s cool.” Robin said. For the second time that night, the air got caught in your throat.

“What?” You choked out, hands balled into fists. Things only get worse in Gotham, you thought grimly. Robin glanced up at you, now his confusion mirroring yours.

“You don’t know? Nobody told you?” he questioned, sounding perplexed.

“Know what, Robin?” you said, voice cracking. He paused, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand.

“Joker shot her,” he spoke quietly, and you felt tears slip down your cheeks, under your mask. “He paralyzed her.” For a moment you felt guilty, but for what? Leaving Gotham without taking the kids with you? They would never willingly leave, they have a fascination with the city that you don’t share. A connection. You only harbor hatred for the grim place. The anger which you had felt all night somehow managed to get hotter. You knew coming back was a mistake, but it was too late to leave. Another child as Robin, Barbara paralyzed, and the Joker still breathing. You were stuck in Gotham now.

You had previously had second thoughts about offing the Joker, but you felt clear certainty now. You would choke the life out of him with your bare hands if you had to, and if anyone tried to stop you, they would regret it.

“Go home, Robin. I’ll take care of the factory.” You demanded, picking yourself up off of the cold roofing. Robin stood up as well.

“I don’t know, Boss said I need to be here,” he said, his voice unsure. You moved to where he stood, shoving him back slightly, away from the edge.

“Go, now. If it was so important he would be here.” You growled, readying your grapple again, finger on the trigger. But before you could pull it back, your shoulder was roughly yanked back, pulling you away from the edge roughly. You angerly steadied yourself, hurriedly pulling a throwing knife out of your utility belt. The black mass that stood in front of you, leering over, frowned at you. Robin stood behind him, cowering down slightly.

“I am here, (Y/N),” Batman spoke harshly. He was using his intimidation voice, which annoyed you to no end. You tightened your grip on the knife.

“Not the fight I was expecting,” you spoke slyly, “but I’ll take it.”

Master List:

Updated on 1.24.19

Some of these are from my other blog @jasxontxdd

Jason Todd:

- Overprotective (2) (3) (4) (Dad!Jason)

- Meeting Jason Todd (Jason x Reader)

- Babybird (2) (Batmom)

-I Got You (Jayroy)

Dick Grayson:

- The Mask  (Dick x Reader)

Tim Drake:

- 1 AM  (Tim Drake x Reader)

Damian Wayne:

- A Little Company (Batmom)

LOVED THE STORY THAT YOU WROTE WITH JASON. 🤣❤❤❤❤

Thank you!! (Idk which one you mean but, i still greatly appreciate it :)

Preface

Hi, it's jasxontxdd! This is gonna be the blog where I post all my writing, my masterlist will be here as well. You can contact me on either blog, it doesn't matter.

What kind of requests are you taking?

YOU KNOW IDK when tf I got this ask i am so sorry jesus christ 😅 anyway, anything except incest and smut :)