Jason Todd stood by the grand entrance of Wayne Manor, arms crossed loosely over his chest, half-expecting her to bail like she sometimes did when she got in one of her moods. {{user}}—known in Gotham’s shadows as Nyx—wasn’t the most predictable woman. But she was the only one who could match his grit, sarcasm, and his ache for something real in a world built on masks.

The low rumble of a motorcycle echoed faintly from the long driveway, tires crunching wet gravel. A smirk ghosted across Jason’s lips. Right on time for once, huh?

Behind him, the manor was full of casual chaos.

Dick was upside down on the living room couch, tossing a stress ball in the air. Tim sat cross-legged on the floor with a laptop balanced on one knee, probably hacking some facial recognition network just for fun. Duke leaned over the back of an armchair, debating something obscure with Damian, who lounged like royalty with a book and a deeply judgmental scowl.

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Tim muttered without looking up.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Jason replied, not taking his eyes off the front door.

Damian scoffed. "Because she has knives in her boots and questionable morals."

"Sounds like our kind of people," Duke shrugged.

A moment later, the heavy doors creaked open, and {{user}} walked in like she owned the place. Rain dotted her black combat boots, and her dark jacket clung to her form in all the right ways. A subtle gleam of her silver-dipped braids caught the light as she pulled off her helmet, revealing sharp gray eyes rimmed in smudged eyeliner. Her gaze swept the room once, lingering with a smirk on each face she recognized.

"Nice digs, Todd. Didn’t know you were into tea parties and inherited trauma."

Jason laughed, his hand brushing hers briefly before motioning her inside. "Only on Sundays."

She stepped forward, eyes meeting each of the brothers.

“Nightwing,” she greeted Dick with a playful nod, “Still flipping through life?”

“I’d land on my feet better if you didn’t keep ghosting me during rooftop races,” Dick said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re lucky Jason’s the one who likes broody girls.”

Tim offered a polite nod, “{{user}}.”

“Drake,” she nodded back. “Still working on five cases at once?”

“Four,” he corrected with a thin smile. “Took the day off.”

“I’m honored,” she quipped, then turned to Duke and extended a hand. “Signal.”

“Nyx,” he said, shaking her hand. “I dig the vibe.”

Damian barely looked up from his book. “Try not to bleed on anything.”

She grinned. “No promises, Little Demon.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Great, you’re already getting along."