the wild chase of insanity;

Grumbling at the array of notifications he elects to ignore for now, he scrolls past the walls of text and emojis to the source of the chaos. He almost drops his phone at the image beneath his fingertips.

He nearly forgets about the call when Steph speaks up again, though she’s not speaking to him rather she’s cooing in the background. Dick’s cackling and hauntingly enough he hears Alfred speaking up through the noise about personal space etiquette.

There’s other voices he doesn’t quite recognize, but one of them sticks out. The fucking clone of the alien Boy Scout himself. How were the Titans allowed in Gotham? Somehow, Tim has to be behind this.

Red Hood takes in the photo. Wonder Girl and the ‘not Wally’ Kid Flash are huddled around the Super Clone. The latter of whom is holding a damn baby— or toddler?

“What the fuck?” he asks out loud, drawing another person’s attention to the open line.

“Hurry,” Cass states amongst Alfred’s speech of not overwhelming their small guest. To which, Steph reminds him that their guest is not a guest- hello.

Red Hood slaps a hand over the eyes of his helmet. Exasperated beyond belief, he says, “please tell me, B does not have another demon spawn.”

“Not B’s. Tim.”

Holy ever-loving shit. His chair squeaks as he shoots forward to catch himself on his desk. “He has a kid?” His voice nearly shrill.

Marcus and Veronica are brought out of their whispered conversation at the noise. They share a look then silently agree to leave their boss alone. Each of them wave their goodbyes as Red Hood resists the urge to slam his head against his shitty desk.

A huff sounds on the other end. In other words, Cass’s laughing at him. “No. Tim’s small.”

If there was a record in the room with him, it’d stop with a loud scratch. Because huh?

Bart wakes with a gasp, vision blurring around the edges. A hard, sharp object digs into his lower spine. With a groan, he scoots over to the side only to feel more are digging into his shoulder blades and spine.

Dust settles all around him. Through the edges of his clearing vision, he can make out a blown-out ceiling above him. The sun peers over the western edge, signaling dusk. His fingers twitch one by one. There’re police sirens in the distance.

His head lolls to the left. Someone’s coming. But who? His tongue feels twice its size. His mouth is dry. He focuses toward the sound. There’re definitely shoes smacking against cement. He rolls his shoulders back, wincing as a twinge shoots down his right side.

God, he landed hard. This could only mean one thing.

“I thought I saw you,” a voice echoes around the room. By that time, Bart’s eyes have adjusted well enough to see the person who’s addressing him so casually.

“Jaime,” he smiles sheepishly, “boy, am I glad to see you.”

White Air Force Ones settle in front of him. Jaime squats down to Bart’s level and whistles. “Glad to see you too, ese. You made quite the entrance this time.”

Bart chokes on a laugh when his lungs seize. Jaime pats his shoulder as the coughing fit runs its course. Eyes watering, he reaches blindly for Jaime’s hands. They’re given willingly, pulling him to his feet as more sirens join the first.

Staggering to his feet, Bart feels woozy, vision doubling as they start to run out of the damaged building. At least nothing caught on fire this time. Jaime holds tight to his hand, leading their way out and into an alleyway away from the sirens as they approach. They duck behind a dumpster as a stray cop car drives past them.

The sudden stop in their pace causes Bart to lean heavily against the metal dumpster, whining when Jaime starts to pull him back up too soon. “Come on, ese. Just a little farther,” he says, allowing Bart a moment to get his bearings before starting their run again.

Bart tries to take in their surroundings, noticing they’re in some sort of industrial district. Judging by the large warehouses, he must’ve crashed into a pretty important one if all those sirens were there to check out the damage and smoke from his crash point.

Turning back around to their getaway, Bart takes the time to analyze his rescuer. The same as always. Dark hair and impossibly darker eyes. Kind as always. Same height, same impressively clean shoes. 

Eventually, their pace slows as Bart’s legs start to shake. Jaime’s quick to shoulder part of his weight. Throwing one arm over his shoulder and an arm around the other’s waist, Jaime leads him down another alleyway.

Static runs up and down his legs, but Bart tries to keep going. He sticks out like a sore thumb. White leotard and black loose pants with neon green reflectors down the sides. Simple onyx stud earrings pierce his ears and the white, leather combat boots really don’t fit in the past. As he’s been reminded a million times by this point. Another whine passes his lips as the static turns into sharp needles.

Jaime shushes him, pressing his lips into his temple to whisper, “it’s okay we’re almost there. Just one more block.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Bart responds weakly, feet going numb altogether.  

As the sun settles in the horizon, they make it to Jaime’s condo. Barely missing his neighbors, Jaime rustles for the keys in his pocket, making quick work to get them inside unseen. Busting through the threshold, they’re quick to make it to the nearest couch. Landing heavily on the cushions, they each take a moment to catch their breaths.

Now his legs have gone fully numb, an after effect of time travel that will never get easier. Bart reaches for Jaime’s hand, finding his fingers easily and interlocking them with his own. The latter squeezes his hand and turns his head toward Bart.

“Sorry about the slow escape,” Jaime pants out, “didn’t think of grabbing a car when I saw you.”

“It’s… crash. Hopefully… no one saw us, yeah?”

“No one saw,” he clarifies. Moving to stand, he loosens his grip on Bart’s hand.

But Bart is quick enough to stop him from moving away. “When am I? When was the last time I was here… with you?”

Jamie’s expression softens with the questions. “2015,” he mumbles. “I saw you four months ago.” Then he pauses, raking his eyes over his form. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” is the immediate response. “Why?”

Jaime smiles, urging Bart to stand with him. It takes a moment, but he stands on unsteady legs. “Let’s get you changed. You look like one of the guys from NSYNC.”

“I do not! This is normal 30th century clothes!”

Making it into Jaime’s room, Bart took it upon himself to break away from their handhold in order to find clothes more suited to the 21st century. He rolls his eyes when Jaime shows him an archaic picture of the boy band he was referring to.

“You never answered my question,” Bart mumbles, finding a suitable pair of black joggers and a retro, white Adidas t-shirt. They’ll be big, but he hates tight clothes after time traveling. It feels too claustrophobic. He starts with his black pants, dropping them around his ankles before reaching clumsily for the zipper on his leotard.

Warm, calloused fingers brush his fingers away and tug the zipper down his back instead. The sudden air sends chills down his spine as Jaime helps to peel the leotard from Bart’s shoulders.

“You were almost two years older when I saw you last.”

Bart’s eyes widen, looking over his shoulder, “oh.”

Jaime nods, stepping away to allow the other to finish getting his leotard off. “How long d’you think you’ll be around?”

Looking up from removing his entire outfit, Bart notices Jaime’s back to him—allowing him to change in peace. It makes his stomach somersault. Once he’s finished, he touches Jaime’s shoulder. His fingers are trembling, but that’s the only after effect left from his long journey. His vision has returned completely and the feelings in his legs are back. No longer numb and prickling.

“I wish I knew,” he whispers, grabbing for Jaime’s hand. “Few days at least.”

Jaime knew he was staring too intently at Bart’s mouth. It was moving so fast, he was pretty sure it was only nonsensical gibberish, but he knew it’d started off with one, simple question. 

“Are you wearing lip gloss?” 

One question, and now his boyfriend was talking about color, undertones, glitter and sticky consistencies of different types of lip glosses from different brands, which would be fascinating… if he had any idea what any of it meant. But Bart seemed really invested in the subject. So, Jaime struggled to keep everything straight. 

“There’s this really good one from Maybelline that can be a dupe for Fenty—”

“And Fenty is…?” Jaime interrupted quickly, grasping one of Bart’s wrists to catch his attention. 

“Oh, yeah! Fenty is Rihanna’s makeup brand. Totally diverse, totally inclusive to all skin tones.” And on he went with that tangent, explaining when she started her company, what products it sold, and how it set the standard for other makeup brands. Jaime nodded along, humming every so often at the right moments. His thumb rubbed circles on Bart’s wrist, but all he could focus on was his boyfriend’s lips. 

It looked like he was wearing a pale pink gloss with silver glitter…? No, it had to be silver reflects. It wasn’t quite glitter. There also seemed to be a minty scent emanating from the gloss too. Jaime tugged on Bart’s wrist, with intent, dragging him to his feet and around the table to sit on his lap. 

Bart went quiet with the action, blush rising to his cheeks when he was fully positioned. The speedster’s arms came to rest on his boyfriend’s shoulders, wrists crisscrossing behind his neck.  

“Go on,” Jaime directed, “I’m still listening.” His arms rested easily around Bart’s hips, keeping him close as he leaned forward. 

“Um, okay,” the other replied, tilting his head to the side to allow access to the underside of his jawline. “Where was I? Lip stains, right?” 

A hum tickled below his left ear. 

“Lip stains, according to Cassie, are different than lip glosses.”

A wet kiss met along his jawline. “How so?” Then a nibble to the same spot. 

Reflexively, Bart squeezed his thighs against Jaime’s hips with a shaky breath. “Uh…” 

Jaime leaned a small way away, blowing over the spot. A whine met this action. “What’s the difference?” He asked again before trailing more kisses along the neck exposed to him. 

“I don’t remember,” came the breathy reply. 

“Damn,” Jaime answered, chuckling. “I was really interested in the difference.” 

“No, you weren’t.” Bart retorted with a laugh, fingers sinking into Jaime’s hair as he squirmed from another bite. “You have no idea what I’m talking about.” 

“It’s going over my head... I’m gonna be honest, ese,” he admitted, nipping the underside of his boyfriend’s chin. 

“I could... show you the difference,” Bart replied, tugging on Jaime’s hair to pull him away from leaving a mark there. 

Curious. “Without getting up?” Jaime challenged, meeting the other’s gaze. 

Bart nodded, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. 

“I’m listening,” Jaime urged, hips pushing up teasingly. 

Bart squirmed at the action, but regained his composure as he leaned toward his boyfriend. Head tilted, glossy lips meet dry, chapped lips. 

Jaime hummed into the kiss, accommodating to the intensity of it. He tried to slow it, pushing up into the lip lock to gain better footing. Only Bart didn’t let him. 

With a wet smack, Bart leaned away, breathless and smirking. Cheeks pink and lips noticeably swollen, Jaime couldn’t picture a better sight. He went to cup the speedster’s face only to be stopped by a terrible sensation. 

A burning, yet tingling feeling overwhelmed his lips. Wiping at his mouth, he slowly realized his mistake. A mistake only he could’ve made when Bart was talking about it earlier in the conversation. 

Some lip glosses were lip plumpers. Some burned, some didn’t.  

Her nose curled at the smell. Moving into the kitchen itself, she found a few boxes of pizza. Each one nearly empty except for a few pieces of half-eaten crusts. Then she took notice of the static on the tv in the living room just beyond his card table. 

Crossing into the living room, the sorceress still doesn’t find him. There was a blanket or two left in a pile on the ratty couch, a remote thrown on a nearby cardboard box and more cans of beer strewn across the floor. 

Raven passed carefully over the cans and made her way down the hall to his bedroom, peeking in the bathroom quickly as she went. The smell of vomit assaulted her senses going past, but her powers prodded her forward. She doesn’t knock on the door; instead, the sorceress pushed it open, revealing the very person she had been looking for resting on his bed. 

Jason’s eyes were covered by his arms and his knees were bent under the covers. To Raven, it seemed like he didn’t know she was there until he spoke. 

His lips smacked together as he slurred, “hey, little bird...” 

“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” 

Jason chuckled, “of course I am.” 

Looking around his bedroom, Raven could see his Red X uniform thrown in a heap on the floor next to his bed along with even more cans of beer on top of it. She lost track of time for a moment, her eyes tracking old newspapers pinned to the walls and open case file folders covering most of the flat surfaces in here. It wasn’t until her gaze made its way back to his bed that she noticed him looking back at her. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

He ignored the question. “Come ‘ere.” 

Raven stepped further into the room and stopped at the foot of his bed, refusing to come any closer. Sensing her there, Jason slowly propped himself up against the wall. His blue eyes were bloodshot. Plus, there were bags under his eyes, and his skin was pale. 

“Why’re you drinking?” 

“It’s a holiday...” he mumbled, raising a can up into the air. 

A holiday? Her expression must’ve showed her confusion because Jason shortly followed up his statement with: “it’s the day I woke up in my coffin, scraped my fingernails off to get out and dug through six feet of Earth to get to the surface. Yay, me.” 

Raven’s heart nearly stopped in her chest. It took every last bit of her Azarath training to stop her powers from lashing out in surprise and boiling-anger. How in the world did he even know or remember that?

Jason sneered, “don’t look so pained, little bird. Life isn’t fair, remember?” 

She didn’t need to be reminded. “I don’t like when you get like this.”

He clicked his tongue, eyes turning away as he took a swig from his drink. “Join the club,” he muttered. 

Reaching out, she grabbed a hold of his right ankle and squeezed. Trying to talk sense into him when he was in this state would be useless. However, she didn’t come to talk sense tonight. Not at all. She unclasped her cloak, letting it fall around her feet, before removing her shoes as well. 

Jason’s gaze shot back to her, a smirk peeling across his lips from behind his green can. He ushered her over again, setting his drink on the table beside the bed. 

Raven crawled her way to him. Pushing aside his suffocating emotions, she kneeled next to his hips and leaned over him. Meeting him halfway, she doesn’t hesitate to kiss him. 

Angling his head, Jason cupped her cheek with one hand and placed the other on her left thigh. His fingers squeezed, petting her slowly up and down. Opening her mouth to his insistent tongue, she was assaulted by the stale taste of pale ale beer. Before she could jerk away, he beat her to it. 

“Stay the night.”

“I-” 

This doesn’t get a response, which she expects more or less. But it’s the tension emanating from his side of the room that she doesn’t expect. Looking up from her book, she spots him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Between his fingers she can see his domino mask dangling, and his brows are furrowed as he glares at the ground. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks, closing her book and moving to get up when he finally speaks. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”

Her knees give out at the admission as her mattress springs creak and bounce from her sudden fall. Nearby, her vanity mirror cracks. She closes her eyes and focuses on her breathing, clenching her fists to reprimand her magic. In the background, she can feel his emotions. However focusing on him is a mistake, especially when just by brushing up against him... her heart races.

“I—I wasn’t doubting you.” 

Robin’s tension spikes at her statement. “Do you have anything to say to it?”

The beating of her heart palpitates. It takes everything inside of her to suffocate her emotions. With immense difficulty, she levels him with a dull look. “I. Can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” He asks, refusing to accept her reply.

“Both.”

“I won’t accept that.”

“You don’t get a say on what I feel,” she relents with a growl. “You know how dangerous it is for me to experience emotions. Let alone...” 

Raven’s words die off as Robin finally approaches her. Hurt comes off of him in suffocating waves, and her lungs ache under the pressure. He sits down next to her on the bed. He doesn’t reach out to her or even look at her. He simply sits and stares at her clenched fists. 

Black magic gathers there, hissing and striking at nothing in particular. 

“What’s more dangerous... following your own rules and keeping it bottled up,” he nods toward her magic, “or letting yourself feel something so when you do feel something... you’re not hurting yourself or others.”

Her hackles rise, but she bears it, letting the debate sink in. The inner turmoil inside her wants to lash out and deny his claims. A small part of her wants to believe the latter of the two, but it would never work. She’s known that her whole life. 

“I know I make it sound easy. I know you’ve spent your whole life living under this discipline—” 

“You would know,” she snaps, internally wincing at the remark. 

However, Robin doesn’t let it sway him. “Just another thing we have shared experiences on. I like to think I’ve leaned away from some of Batman’s disciplines.”

Their conversation lapses into silence. After what feels like forever, Raven’s fists relax. There’s an ache in her knuckles, and her heart doesn't feel like it’ll ever stop pounding in her chest, but her magic has retreated for now. 

“Raven—” 

“You weren’t lying?” She interrupts. 

His surprise bounces off of her. Sharp and quick. “Yeah,” he responds, honestly.

Scooting closer to him, Raven touches the top of his hand, interlocking their fingers as he turns his hand over to slide their palms together. 

“I... I can’t promise you anything. Love isn’t an emotion I have much practice in.”

Although, he couldn’t really call her ‘his girlfriend’ anymore, could he? 

Continuing to gather his things, he didn’t turn toward her. That would be too hard. “Yeah?” He dared to ask. 

Silence. 

Tim didn’t bother to pause, but he did become increasingly aware of her presence when she appeared next to him. One of her hands covered his own, halting his process. But he still didn’t look up at her.

“Is this how we’re going to leave this?” 

Tim sighed, removing his hand from underneath her’s. “What else am I supposed to do?” 

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Especially when his overnight bag ended up on the other side of their shared room with a loud bang. At least, he hadn’t loaded up any vulnerable weapons yet. 

Throwing her hands up in the air, she shouted, “how about warning me that you were going to walk out with Batman? How about telling me what’s going on? How about treating me like your girlfriend because we’ve been dating for three years? How about that?!”

Somehow, his shoulders have hunched themselves up to his ears, and he knew he was wincing externally. But it doesn’t stop her from continuing. 

“I love you, please don’t go!” 

He can’t deny that his heart ached in that moment. Secretly, he’d hoped to put off this conversation. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. His hands were tied. It came with the territory with his mentor. 

“I love you too, but I can’t stay here. You know that.” He answered, finally looking into her teary, blue eyes. 

“But why?” Voice wet. 

“I-I can’t say.” 

“Yes, you can!” 

“This is bigger than you and me. You have to know I’m sworn to secrecy, Cassie. I work with Batman—that’s explanation enough.” His tone came across a lot sharper than he was expecting. But he had to save face. 

This was bigger than them. 

Cassie’s eyes were wide, and the shock of his anger made her cheeks flush. Then her gaze hardened. 

“We don’t keep secrets, Tim. You promised. Doesn’t that mean something too?” 

Of course it did. 

“This is a temporary thing.” 

“Our relationship?” She ventured, voice wavering. 

“No. The reason why I have to leave.” 

“You wouldn’t have to leave if you would just stand up for yourself. You’ve always talked about it. Now’s your chance.” 

Tim went to grab his bag, wanting to be done with this conversation. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He knew she would tear at his heart with the truth. But now wasn’t the time to stand against Batman. 

This was a mission he initially agreed to. He couldn’t go back on his word now that he’d gotten this far. 

He moved past her quickly, tensing in anticipation of her anger. Instead, he heard her soft, exhausted voice. 

“You know you’re safe here, right?” 

“Of course,” he answered softly, stopping short of opening the door. 

“You’re safe with me too.” 

Her fingers brushed his hand. 

“Promise you’ll be safe?” 

He could hear the tears in her voice as she gave her last plead, knowing she had lost the battle. 

Robin wondered what was on her mind lately, but he’d been all too careful not to ask. Don’t ask him why because he’d have no clue. Something in his gut told him not to. 

His laptop screen dimmed, warning of its eventual sleep mode if he didn’t type soon. But it went unnoticed as her bright, green eyes met his own gaze. 

Then they quickly snapped away as she readjusted herself so she was sitting with her knees pulled tight to her chest. 

Robin looked away too, taking the time to get his laptop screen to light up again. Then he proceeded to finish up the last few sentences of the report on his screen. However, it was slow going as his girlfriend kept shooting him glances every so often. 

Logging off, he closed his laptop and pushed it onto the couch next to him. Without much thought, he stood and ambled over to Starfire. The words that left his mouth next would catch him off guard later on. But for now, it was out in the open. 

Offering his hand, Robin asked, “dance with me?” 

She was clearly startled, judging by her rapid blinking and wide eyes. So much so, all she could do was ‘uh...’ right at him. 

One of his eyebrows rose in question. His request hung in the air between them. His hand remained in offering. 

“But... there is no music?” She finally settled on, sitting up and letting her feet hit the carpet again. She wasn’t standing yet nor had she accepted his hand. 

Robin could only shrug, feeling no certain way about the absence of music. 

Seeing he was unbothered, Starfire accepted his offer and stood with his help. Hands on her hips, Robin lead her to sway with him. Her own hands rested on his shoulders, but one of her thumbs rubbed purposely near his Adam’s apple. 

She hummed, tilting her head as she stared at Robin. 

“Is there something on my face?” He asked. 

“No...” 

Nodding his head, he stretched them apart, twirling her once before returning his girlfriend to his front. 

“Is there something you want to talk about? Maybe about the video call you got from Tamaran last week?” He led on, spinning them together twice in quick succession. 

He can tell she was surprised, not realizing he’d known about that. But he kept every physical part of himself relaxed while his stomach did somersaults. 

After a few, stunned moments of silence, she relented, “it is quite stupid.”

They’re back to casual swaying as he pondered her response. If he wanted to venture a guess, the video call had to be about her sister, Blackfire. But again, he wasn’t going to push if she wasn’t willing to share. 

During the silence, Starfire had laid her head on his shoulder and was hugging him around his waist. He slowed the sway of their hips and rested his own head atop of hers in comfort. 

“Well, if you ever want to talk about it... I’m always here or—”

“Thank you. I am sure the answers will reveal themselves to me soon.” 

Stumbling down an all too familiar alleyway, Jason clutched his side. Bloody smirk ever present across his lips. He has a good grip on the knife handle, but he hasn’t had the chance to pull it out yet. 

More shaky steps toward a dumpster, he doesn’t waste anytime to prop himself up so he can shift into a better stance. Both hands on the handle, he tried to pull, tried to get it out in one fell swoop. 

However, just touching the damn thing sent a shock of pain through his body. 

That drunk asshole at the bar almost gutted him. If he’d aimed a little more to the left…

Fuck. 

His legs finally gave out underneath him. Crashing to the ground, the sudden jolt of the knife caused him to scream. 

Or maybe it wasn’t his scream at all ringing in his ears as a shadow appeared before him. Squinting into the night, he can’t quite make out the figure watching him. Then again, it probably wasn’t a stranger. 

It was, by no fault of his own, the alleyway he knew far too well. 

The figure doesn’t make a move. They’re just…  watching him, waiting. 

An annoyance that Jason can’t ignore with a knife sticking out of his left side. 

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” he muttered, moving to stand only to have his legs give out on him again. 

It was with the second attempt that the figure finally came into view. Black cloak highlighting into its stark white. 

Would’ve been his first guess if he wasn’t so preoccupied with the blood oozing down his pant leg. 

“What do I owe the pleasure?” He rasped out, finally accepting his permanent seat on the dirty ground. 

“You tell me,” was the immediate response. Annoyance clearly delivered. “Your… emotions were screaming out to me.” 

With a loud tsk, he pointed out the obvious situation. “Sorry if I’m disturbing your night with my pain, little bird.” 

The nickname doesn’t get the usual response he would’ve hoped for. Huff of annoyance or rude exchange. Instead, she stalked toward him, expression neutral and intentions unclear. 

He’d scramble away if he could, but all of his limbs were frozen in place by his own, dare he say, sudden fear of the unknown. 

The breath was knocked out of him as she grabbed onto the knife handle and dug it in a little bit deeper with a slight twist. 

“Gah!” He screamed, reaching for her hands to wrench them away. But her iron tight grip remained. “What-what the fuck are you doing?” 

Her lilac eyes were boring into his face as she twisted it a little more. Although, there was a sort of familiar gleam in her overall expression as she tilted her head. 

Predator playing with its food. 

Or toy. 

Jason couldn’t be too sure. Until she trailed an innocent finger through a trail of blood that had pooled near his groin where it met his thigh. 

“Wha-” he gasped, still scrambling for her to let go. “What’re you…”

“You got yourself into this mess. I’m just finishing it.” 

Another slight twist to the knife effectively crushed the breath from his chest. His vision swam for one quick second until the pain disappeared all together. 

Jason watched as she slowly dragged the knife from his bloody side. The action was slow and drawn out. To the point where he started to feel dizzy at the sight. 

Her eyes remained glued to his face. Nonplussed. If only the gravity of the situation stopped there. He could feel the tension in the air changing into something… darker. More familiar. 

He doesn’t know when he closed his eyes, but the warm touch of the bloody knife snapped them back open. She was tilting his chin up. 

It was strange feeling his own blood sticking to the underside of his chin. Only because this wasn’t a Red Hood fight with some criminals. This was entirely different. It was a different playing field. Life and death seemed pivotal in those situations, not here. 

The knife drew a sinister line along his jawline before slicing into his cheek. 

The sting of it got a hiss out of him. He watched the blade catch the light from a nearby light pole as she pulled it away to lick the blood off. 

“What’re you-”

A finger dove painfully into his open wound, shutting him up. 

“I think it’d be wise of you to keep your mouth shut.” 

There it was… the transformation was shining through. Four red eyes greeted him underneath her hood. Sharp teeth glistening from the shadows. Her tail swished back and forth behind her. 

“Raven,” he gasped- eliciting another sharp jab from her probing finger. He kicked his feet out and threw his head back with a shout. 

“Using my name so freely doesn’t earn you brownie points, boy.” 

“Noted,” he growled, smacking her hand away from his wound. “Is my pain doing it for you?” Referring to her current state. 

The next thing Jason knew Raven palmed his crotch, earning a whole different kind of groan from him. 

“It’s doing enough for you,” was the smart remark. 

Then they were kissing. Dirty, hot kind of kissing. Nothing but tongue and teeth. Jason snaked his arms around her waist, dragging the succubus into his lap. Hissing as she pressed against him, his open wound feeling it too. 

“Hello? Is someone down there?” 

Jason pulled away first, earning himself a sharp bite to his neck. He could feel his blood from her lips drying to the corners of his mouth. 

From the entryway of alley, he could make out the silhouette of a woman. He wasn’t sure if she could see where exactly they were, but he wasn’t going to take the chance with a literal demon sitting in his lap. 

One who would gladly rip an innocent into pieces with her bare hands. 

The bystander took a few steps closer, expression still covered in the shadows. Their current situation, however, didn’t stop Raven from leaving bite marks on his neck. 

So he gripped the back of her neck and pleaded into her ear, watching as the woman came closer. 

“We need to go. Right now.”

Raven paused long enough to growl, “says who?”

Five more steps, and he was sure as shit that woman would be getting a good and clear idea of what she was walking into. 

“Raven-”

“Oh my god! Are you okay? You’re bleeding!” 

Shit, shit, shit! This was not going to be g-

Suddenly, they vanished through a portal without a sound.  

“You realize this is a dead end, Todd?”

Rolling his eyes, Red Hood pushed the annoyance behind him as he checked the next alleyway.

“I told you, you didn’t have to come.”

Pushing back up to the front, Damian scoffed. “You’ve talked about this informant before, and I’m curious because you’re always so secretive about them.”

“Ever think there was a reason behind that?” He replied haughtily.

“Ever think that’s exactly why I’m here?”

That was it. He was going to kill him. Turning around to do exactly that, he was stopped by a familiar being. Flying over Damian’s head, a raven went over to perch on a nearby fire escape. The black, pupil-less eyes were a dead giveaway.

Red Hood relaxed, tearing his gaze away from the raven to address the little, nosy brat. “You can follow me in, but you probably won’t be allowed past a certain point. And if you think you’ll be able to fight your way through- you’ve got another thing coming. These aren’t just lowly thieves or gangsters of Gotham. This informant is something else entirely.”

Damian frowned at the explanation, but when the warning came, his brows rose in doubt. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

Red Hood sighed, giving up on further explaining, and ambled his way down a seemingly abandoned alleyway. “Yeah, I get it, kid. You’ll see what I mean when you see her.”

Damian caught up to him, arms crossed over his chest. “Her, huh? She some girl you have intercourse with to get info?”

Jesus, this kid was going to drive him up a wall. “Shut up.”

Damian slowed, realizing they were walking toward a shadowed brick wall. Red Hood knew exactly what he was thinking. There wasn’t a door or anything here. Just a dead end, Todd. Blah, blah, blah.

That was the point.

“Come on. Don’t chicken out now. You came all this way,” Red Hood teased, spinning on his heels to give him one last salute before falling back into the shadows. He was sort of hoping the kid wouldn’t come in, but, like usual, he followed.

“What is this place?” He asked unfazed, looking around the dimly lit shop. “A bookshop?”

“Of sorts,” Red Hood replied, going over to the counter to ring the silver bell. The moment it rang- the air immediately changed. The chime was lingering and seemed mute in a way. He was used to the sound, but he didn’t have to turn around to know Damian was a little uncomfortable.

“What’s-”

His question was cut short when the scream of a raven answered back. Then a black ink shadow grew from the floor behind Red Hood. Damian took a startled step back, watching as it materialized into a- a girl.

She was dressed in all white.

White cloak, white boots, white leotard. The jewels adorning her belt, hands and cloak were blood red. Her skin was an ash grey, yet smooth. Her hair was long past her shoulders and a sort of lilac color. So were her eyes.

But when her gaze locked on Damian’s, he knew Red Hood had been telling the truth earlier. There was a dangerous aura surrounding her. She tilted her head, expression neutral, opening her mouth to say something when Red Hood tapped her shoulder.

“He’s with me. He’ll be staying here while we… talk.”

The girl gave Damian another cursory glance before addressing him. “Do you usually babysit Ra’s al Ghul’s grandchild?”

Red Hood chuckled, removing his helmet and setting it on the counter behind him. Shaking out his hair, he replied, “you know my stance on kids, little bird.” Then he addressed Damian. “I’ll be back. Stay here and don’t touch anything.”

Damian harrumphed, pivoting away from them with a grumble.

Grabbing his wrist, the girl led him toward the backrooms. Red Hood followed, smirking. “Someone a little excited to see her favorite… soul bond.” He whispered the last part close to her, relishing the glare he received. “What?” He teased.

The grip on his wrist tightened. “I’ll have your tongue if you don’t shut up.”

“Sounds hot considering you’ll have it in a few short minutes.”

She took a deep, loud breath- successfully guiding them into her favorite room. The vanilla candles were already lit and the curtains were closed, giving them plenty of privacy. A raven was perched on one of the bedposts and it squawked as they drew closer. But the girl quickly shooed it out of the room.

“She seems cranky,” Red Hood commented, allowing himself to be pushed onto the plush bed. His shirt disappeared over his head, landing somewhere on the floor along with his utility belt. Lifting his hips, he helped her take off his pants and briefs- feeling himself already growing hard.

Unclipping her cloak, Red Hood pushed it off her shoulders then hurriedly moved onto her belt. Her hands were roaming his chest, palms warm as they explored. He was already panting, desperate for air. This was sick. He shouldn’t be getting off on this kind of deal, but she was fucking gorgeous.

The leotard zipper was easy to find. Even easier when it came to pulling it off.

“Raven…”

She shushed him immediately, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back to expose his neck. Mouthing a few kisses along his jugular, her form started to change. Jason watched in rapture, mind screaming at him to run.

He knew better though.

This was their deal. He was bound to honor it.

Another pair of eyes appeared where her eyebrows used to be, her teeth and nails grew sharper, while black, leathery wings sprouted from her back. Then her tail wrapped high on his thigh.

Testing the water, Jason thrusted his hips experimentally- earning a sharp nip and a hiss from the succubus above him. His body froze as her magic forced him still.  

With a growl, “you’re testing my patience today… why?”

“I need info on Black Mask now rather than later,” he gasped. It felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. Her magic pulsated, tightening just a hair more. She was considering him with a scowl, tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“Hmm… I’m going to need to have more information.”

Jason flashed his teeth. “You already have it, don’t you?”

Her answer was quick. “Yes,” she snarled, sitting heavily in his lap. Her magic remained bound in his chest, unrelenting in its pressure. “But you owe me.”

“That’s pretty damn obvious,” he snarked back, breathless. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

One final squeeze around his chest effectively shut him up when his vision started to swim. It was his final warning. One of the gentlest ones she’d given him thus far.

So, he fell back against the bed, forcing himself to shut the hell up and relax. This would be a lot more enjoyable if he would just keep his mouth, she’d snipped last time. Might as well take the advice.

He sucked in a breath as she nipped along his chest, moaning when she sucked a marked onto his collarbone.

Her hips moved lazily against him, reveling the way he tried to return the favor. Grimacing, he noticed that he still couldn’t move- damned demon magic.

“Little bird,” he panted, “I would like to earn my information.”

Pausing from leaving another mark, Raven moved into his line of sight. When their eyes met, his heart nearly stopped. She looked fucking ravishing.

“You lost that chance when you demanded answers,” she rumbled, pinching his hip hard.

Snapping his teeth together, Jason held back a yelp. Raven leered down at him, landing a particularly hard thrust against his cock. She was infuriating. Only she could do this to him. Any other girl would’ve given into him by now. They wouldn’t have tied him up and forced him down.

He would’ve had all of this under control if he wasn’t dealing with a literal demon. Whose soul managed to get tied up and tethered to his. Stupid, stupid, mistake on his part.

Or was it really?

He was alive despite all the pain and suffering it took to get here. It was easier this way too, he guessed. Somehow, she’d gotten him back on track when the pit madness peaked. To this day, he still couldn’t remember that period of his life. Which was probably a blessing if he allowed himself to think about it more. 

Claw grazing his slacked mouth, she hummed- hips slowing their pace.

Shit, he was so fucking close. Vision swimming, he sought her out- grunting as he flexed his back to get a better look at her. Smug, blood red eyes greeted his gaze.

“D-don’t stop,” Jason gasped, head lolling against the messy sheets.

“Beg for it then,” was the simple response.  

God, he wanted to tell her to fuck off. But his brain to mouth filter failed him. “Please, please don’t stop. I’m close.”

Sharp teeth bit the column of his neck. Her hot breath fanned over the skin as she whispered, “good boy.”

Finally releasing her hold, Raven allowed Jason to flip them over. Starting where they left off, he went mean. Damn her for getting him riled up like this. Stupid, stupid, soul sucking demon.

Grabbing a fist full of lilac hair, he wrenched her head back- showing her he had the power here too. Despite her ability to always be in control. He had to prove he wasn’t always going to be pushed around.

Somehow in the back of his mind though, Jason knew he was playing right into her hands. He could feel it begin. The pull of her magic seeped into his skin. The added heaviness worked against him, but he was going to see this through to the end. He was going to make sure of that. 

Raven huffed a laugh, sensing his turmoil. Dragging her claws up his back, she wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his lower back to keep him pressed against her. She was so fucking pretty as she arched her back and moaned- meeting his every thrust.

Her tail teased his calves then re-curled itself around one of his thighs, squeezing when he finally reached his peak with a grunt. Suddenly, her magic stabbed deep into his chest and ripped the breath right out of him.

Light headed, Jason was frozen above her as she followed behind him- taking everything she needed with a silent scream. She drew blood from his shoulders as the pain in his chest slowly started to fade away.

He wondered briefly what it felt like to take pieces of his soul. Judging by the expression on her face, it was a magical experience. Dumbly, he opened his mouth to ask that very question when her hands cupped his face- interrupting him.  

Still smug, Raven cocked her head and licked her chapped lips before speaking. “Twenty-one grams. Just like we promised.” Her form shifted back as she allowed him to slip out. Turning toward him when he collapsed next to her, she continued unfazed, “Eve will deliver the information you seek.”

It felt like his head was filled with cotton balls and, overall, he felt weightless… empty.

Crawling off the bed, she picked up her clothes and started dressing. Jason studied the process in slow motion, watching as everything went back to normal for her. Must be fucking nice.

Eve, the raven from earlier, squawked loudly down the hallway- alerting them to the time.

“You should be on your way. I have other appointments,” Raven informed him blandly, turning on her heels as she clipped her cloak back into place.

With a snort, Jason shakily got to his feet- leaning heavily against the bed. “Your post coital talk has always been my favorite part about you, babe. Please, don’t let me hold you from your clients.”

She regarded him coolly, using her magic to place his clothes near him on the bed.

Feeling particularly bold, he decided to tease her. “No goodbye kiss before you disappear into the shadows?”

Crossing her arms, she approached- gaze never wavering. He was buttoning his pants when she brushed his hands away and did it herself. Then she tugged on his utility belt, clicking it into place as well. He noticed her cheeks were still flushed from their recent... activity. 

“Ra’s al Ghul’s grandchild is snooping in my belongings, so there. will. be. no. kiss.” She punctuated each word with a tug on his belt and ended it by softly pushing him back. “Now go.”

Putting on the last of his clothes, Jason chuckled, “you realize he has a name, right?”

Her response was meant to cut deep, and boy did it. “You realize his grandfather is the reason you’re here with me?”

Immediately, he scoffed and stepped into her space much to her obvious dismay, but she didn’t move back. Although, her magic was palpable.

“Thanks for the info, little bird. Hope I earned my keep.”

Raven didn’t bother with a reply. Before his very eyes, shadows raced to her form and swallowed her whole. Eve was still squawking, so he took the hint and walked back out to where Damian seemed to be impatiently waiting for him.

Hands over his ears, Damian was glaring at the raven- trying to loudly shush her. As soon as Jason stepped into the room, she quieted- ruffling her feathers with a shake of her head.

Sighing, Jason walked up to her and held out his palm. Damian’s hands fell back to his sides, expression puzzled. Then with another squawk, their information appeared right out of thin air. Damian jumped back in surprise and turned to the bird to eye her suspiciously.

“Let’s go, brat. We got what we need.”

“What the hell, Todd? What happened back there?!”

Jason ignored him and snatched his helmet off of the counter. “Don’t worry about it. Just be happy we got a lead.”

“I am! But how in the world-”