#Ra al Ghul is terrified and confused
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Little baby man idea
So damian finds little baby man and decides he's damians new baby
A few months pass and damian is kidnapped by the LoA, and separated from little baby man, after he sees the batfam loosing their minds about damian being kidnapped danny goes full overprotective mode
When the rescue plan happens there was a mistake and the mission fails and all the batfam are about to be killed
When little babyman comes out of one of the batfams clothes
Damian, seeing him, tries to get little baby man danny to run away
Ra seeing damian care about this creature decides to use it to torment him, goes on a rant about how he's become weak and all that
Little baby man is now full obssession and his ghost king powers kick in
Little baby man is now big demon man
Danny growes to the size of a building, sharp needle teeth with ectoplasm leaking out of his mouth like drool, pitch black eyes that look like black holes, an ice crown floating above his head with a ring of fire on his finger,hissing that sounds like the screaming souls of the dead, blue skin, black claws and tail wrapping protectively around the tied up batfam
Everyone watches in horror as damians most recent pet becomes a terrifying pit demon
Danny destroys the lair and kills all the assasins he can, he ends up hurtin Ra al Ghul so much he looses both his arms
Then he goes over to damian and wrapes him up with his tail with the other batfam
Then it looks like space and time itself bend to his will and suddenly their in the batcave still tied up
They look around to see little baby man, back to being little taring at damians restaurants and looking him over, and just being a protective and caring creature
Everyone except damian is terrified
Damian is proud of danny and is already making a list of treats to give him
#danny phantom#fic prompt#daily prompt#danny fenton#dc x dp#dp x dc#batman#dc#little baby man#eldritch danny#eldrich little baby man#damian is proud oh him#Ra al Ghul is terrified and confused#so is the batfam#the batfam#damian wayne#protective danny
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Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.
My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.
Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.
——
Ra’s al Ghul.
Talia al Ghul.
Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.
On a bad day?
Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.
Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.
She was not a baby.
She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.
Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.
“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)
“My apologies, father.”
“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”
Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”
“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”
“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.
On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.
“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”
The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.
“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.
Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.
——
She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.
But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.
Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.
She was still young. A child.
“No.”
“No?”
“He did no wrong.”
“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”
The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.
She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?
“No.”
They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.
——
The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.
Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.
She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.
She learned a valuable lesson that day.
There were things worse than death.
“This is an order, granddaughter.”
The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.
“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”
The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.
——
Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.
She was right to be afraid for herself.
Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.
But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.
The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.
Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.
——
She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.
His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.
But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.
The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.
“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”
She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.
“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.
But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.
——
“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.
She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.
“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”
When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.
She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)
David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.
“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.
The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.
David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.
——
The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.
She did not understand.
-
The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.
The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.
-
The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.
The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?
The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.
The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.
The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.
The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.
-
The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.
The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.
And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.
The girl had given the weapon her own sound.
“Cass—n- ra.”
“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.
“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.
-
The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.
Cassandra did not want to.
When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.
The girl came.
“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.
The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.
-
Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.
Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.
“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”
——
Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.
And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?
So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.
Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.
She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.
Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.
David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.
She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.
——
She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.
Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-
Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.
She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.
She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.
She wished…
As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.
She hated him.
She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.
“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.
She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-
“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”
She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.
“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.
She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”
They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.
She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.
She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.
She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.
——
Tim had never had a friend before!
She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)
“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”
His new friend nodded, looking interested.
“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!
She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!
——
When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.
“Do you have to go?”
She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)
“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.
“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.
——
“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.
The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.
“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”
Damian al Ghul cooed.
The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.
She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.
She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.
Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.
She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.
A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.
——
She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)
The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.
Perhaps… she could use the pits?
Her mind turned and turned.
——
“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.
“Ukhti?”
She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”
She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.
It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.
Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.
She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.
She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.
——
Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.
She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.
He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!
——
Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.
Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.
——
Another mission.
She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.
She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.
He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.
She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.
“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”
She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.
She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.
He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.
She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.
——
Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.
He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.
“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.
He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.
——
She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.
Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.
Then, someone new joins.
Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.
Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.
Her memories roar. A child.
He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.
She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.
She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.
Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.
But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.
——
“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”
“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.
She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)
——
“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”
“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.
He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)
——
“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”
She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.
——
She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.
“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.
“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.
The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.
The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.
‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’
Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.
“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”
She smiled, and patted his head.
“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”
Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”
She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.
(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)
——
She found it.
The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”
——
Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.
The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.
She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)
The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.
When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.
“What…?”
“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.
“It’s you!”
“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”
——
“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.
“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”
Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”
——
Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.
“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-
Shhhlk!
He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.
“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.
‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’
Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.
“Who are you.”
“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.
‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.
‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.
“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”
Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.
“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.
“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.
The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’
“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.
“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”
His sister glanced back and ignored them.
“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)
He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.
——
#I have vivid nightmares#batman#oc in dc#dc#batman fic#idea for a fic I definitely don’t have the time to write#reincarnation#isekai#once more my brain has seen fit to fuck me over#tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon#like holy shit what the fuck#brain what is wrong with you#tim drake#jason todd#Damian Wayne#Damian Wayne’s older sister#dp reference lol#couldn’t resist#oc gets Isekaid and proceeds to have a shit of a time#y’all there’s a second part to this shit#it’s a long ass dream
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Ok it’s like 2:30am rn and I’m supposed to be doing a poster that’s due later but I saw the notification that your open again and I had to drop everything and run🙈
Can I request a Ra’s Al Ghul with oldest son reader who turns out to be like quite moral grey? Like the only reason he isn’t some assassin or super villain is bc he loves his family but is legitimately terrifying to the point Ra’s is scared of betraying him more than Alfred or his family.
I hope this makes sense, just some silly moment between Ra’s and reader when readers like “I’ve killed 275 people am nobody knows😆😘”
Okay, don't drop school for me, school is important. But this is just perfect. Ra's is like, who am I dating? Who am I courting?
Summary: (Y/N) is not like his family.
Warnings: (Y/N) has killed, Ra's is confused, (Y/N) loves Ra's and vice versa.
Ra's has been happy ever since he has start courting, but he still wonders how he managed to get him. To land him, as the slang goes. He knows him very well and they know each other for a long time. (Y/N) is the oldest son in the family, he came before Dick even.
Ra's only started dating him when (Y/N) graduated from college. He never expected to catch feelings for (Y/N) and it was weird when he started making sure he is okay and what he is doing.
Ra's never wanted to date. After the death of his wife before even starting the League, he promised himself that he wouldn't love anymore. If he had a wife, then it was to have heirs, but he outlived them all.
And then (Y/N) came.
There was something different about (Y/N). Ra's watched him grow from a child to a grown man and he turned into a, in Ra's eyes, beautiful man with a strong character and mind too. That was rare now a days and Ra's wanted nothing more than to love him and court him.
There was only one problem. His family who was fiercely protective of him and it was just difficult to even show them that he didn't have any ill intentions. To this day, Bruce and Jason were still suspicious of him. Alfred never trusted him to begin with and Damian was ready to fight him at the moment's notice.
So the road wasn't easy, but they have decided to accept the fact that (Y/N) is with Ra's and try to be civil. Really try to be civil. Bruce is trying. Jason and Damian are trying for (Y/N). Not for Ra's.
But there was just something darker about (Y/N) that Ra's liked and what attracted him to the young man. He is different than Bruce and the others. Before being adopted by Bruce, he was put through hell and back and that caused him to be rather... Morally grey.
It made his character strong and he had a certain degree of... Well, lets just say that he was terrifying to people. Sometimes, he was more brutal than Batman. The hell he went through he went as a child made him numb to certain things and brutal in some aspects.
Ra's wondered if he has ever crossed the line and killed. Of course, he didn't say anything about that because Damian and Alfred would have his head if he tried to explore that opportunity.
But Ra's thought about (Y/N) if he was ever a villain, what type he would be? Ra's could think about. He could see how he could be brutal and he could even rule the underworld. His brutality, his intelligence...
But (Y/N) was too loyal to his father and family to even consider being a villain. Alfred and Bruce are just to blame for (Y/N) not becoming a villain. Did Ra's really want him to be a villain? God no.
He could probably be worse than the League of Light combined and that was a scary thought. Even big Ra's al Ghul was scared of betraying (Y/N). He loved (Y/N), he really did and he would never ever betray his lover, his beloved.
And if something were to happen and Ra's betrayed (Y/N), although Ra's wouldn't, (Y/N) would burn down the League. Ra's was certain of it. But there was a side of (Y/N) that Ra's didn't know just yet.
Even now as the two laid together in bed, just ready to go to bed, Ra's decided to ask (Y/N) the question that was on his mind.
" (Y/N), what would you do if I ever betrayed you? " Ra's asked, hugging (Y/N) from behind, murmuring the words into (Y/N)'s hair. (Y/N) always enjoyed Ra's proximity.
" Ra's, I have killed over 200 people that not even Bruce knows about. I would think about it before doing it. "
Ra's thought that (Y/N) was joking and laughed, but (Y/N) turned around in his arms and looked him dead in the eyes.
" Ra's, I'm not kidding. " (Y/N) said and Ra's searched for any sort of sign that (Y/N) was joking.
There was none.
" What? "
" That's all you need to know. " (Y/N) said as he turned his back to Ra's, moving his hands to its original position. Ra's looked at the back of (Y/N)'s neck and paled.
What?
Sure, he thought about (Y/N) crossing the line, but he didn't think that (Y/N) has actually done it. Now he had to think about who the hell he was courting and he had planned to propose in the near future, but he had to see what the hell has happened.
200+ people is not a small amount and there had to be something where he could search about it. It shouldn't be so difficult to find the event that (Y/N) was talking about. It really shouldn't be.
Right?
None the less, Ra's loved (Y/N) and he will propose, but only when he looks more into it. How the hell did he miss this side? The side that crossed the line that Bruce outright refused to cross, (Y/N) has crossed without any hesitation?
Ra's blinked a few times. No. He will look into it and tomorrow morning, over breakfast, he will ask him to give him more details about the... Could it be labeled as a massacre? Ra's left that thought and closed his eyes, falling asleep next to his beloved.
Breakfast came that morning and the two ate in silence, just enjoying the food and coffee. (Y/N) had to have his coffee and his caffeine, otherwise he wouldn't function at all. Ra's thought about breaking the topic. How to do it?
Well, just asking will do the trick. No beating around the bush.
" (Y/N), " Ra's started as he took a sip of his coffee, glancing at his beloved who was eating. (Y/N) paused and Ra's knew that he had to do it now. " Did you tell me the truth last night? About those 200 people? "
(Y/N) blinked a few times and then he put the mug down.
" If it's something sensitive, you don't have to talk about it. But it would help me understand. I have never seen a side of you that has crossed the line. " Ra's said and (Y/N) smiled reaching his for Ra's hands. Ra's extended his hand to (Y/N) and the two interlocked their hands.
" It's not sensitive, don't worry. I was on my own mission while doing my own case. Bruce was aware of the case and the mission too. What he didn't know is what has happened on that mission. All of those people were evil and vile people. " (Y/N) said, stopping for a second to ear some more. He did love Arabic breakfast after all.
" Now, nobody would miss them. And at that moment, it was me or them. Of course, I didn't kill 200 people at once. It was over a 3 day period. And I would like to say, me or them. " (Y/N) said and Ra's has decided not to pry anymore.
(Y/N) has just told him the truth and that was all that mattered.
" I have to say, that eases me a little bit. You have scared a bit last night when you told me that, so serious too. " Ra's said, chuckling quietly, squeezing (Y/N)'s hand once more.
" Sorry about it. But you can't tell Bruce at all. " (Y/N) said and Ra's said of course. It's not really life threatening so Bruce doesn't have to know anything about it.
" Of course I won't. " Ra's said and (Y/N) removed his own hand from his and showed him his pinky finger.
" Pinky promise Ra's? " (Y/N) said and Ra's smiled, indulging (Y/N).
" Pinky promise. " Ra's said as he leaned closer to (Y/N)'s face, giving him a kiss. (Y/N) smiled into the kiss and has moved to sit in Ra's lap.
" I wish I could spend the day with you beloved, but I have work to do." Ra's said after breaking the kiss, caressing (Y/N)'s cheek.
" I have work to do too. We will meet for lunch? " (Y/N) asked and Ra's nodded, giving him one last kiss and (Y/N) hopped off of Ra's lap.
" Later Ra's. "
" Later beloved. "
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If you're taking prompts, could you write something about Tim being the most spiteful, feral teenager ever and the rest of his family wondering why the hell everyone presumes he's the sweet, well behaved one?
This isn’t precisely what you requested, but I did have an idea of something similar a little while ago! Only, it’s Tim being terrifying and everyone in his family realizing it, but Tim not understanding what they’re talking about.
I never finished it entirely, but I’ll share the opener, since I think it has the vibe:
Tim felt like he was perpetually exhausted. He’d felt this way since he was three-years-old and trying to work out the confusing mess of emotions that came with watching two people die the first time he went to the circus. His parents offered no support. In fact, they seemed to believe he would just get over it on his own.
Really, and people wondered why he became Robin. As though he was normal. Ugh.
The exhaustion had only gotten worse over the years. With every problem he solved, more anxieties crept into his mind, poisoning his thoughts. He couldn’t sleep unless he passed out. He could barely breathe when he saw any of his so-called “siblings.” Ra’s Al Ghul was still sending him thinly veiled threats, or maybe they were abnormal declarations of affection? Bruce seemed to think so.
Anyway, Tim was tired. There were times when he wasn’t, of course. There were times when he fought alongside Kon and Bart and Cassie, just like old times, and they all devolved into acting like fifteen-year-olds. Fighting criminals still gave him a sense of living, something he intellectually knew was adrenaline but also didn’t care. There was the thrill of a case solved, a plan gone correctly, his teammates working in harmony with him.
He probably should’ve been worried about it all. The only times he felt alive were when he was in mortal danger, after all. But, he’d come to accept that he might’ve lost a few screws when he let Ra’s Al Ghul kick him out of a building without full-proof backup. Even before then, really. He kinda tuned into it when he realized that he was trying to pull a mad scientist and clone his best friend.
Tim was very aware of himself. He could be suave and charming, but he was mostly a perpetually slouching young man with his hair grown out and his clothes mostly being stolen from his friends. He could keep up his poker face all the way to his death. He could lie to Batman. He faced death every evening and ran towards it.
He still remembered when Kon muttered that he was creepy. Tim still maintained that Kon shouldn’t have gotten distracted to the point that he didn’t notice Tim’s presence until Tim was right in front of him. Kon retorted that he had been eating cereal at the Kents’ farmhouse and that Tim shouldn’t have dramatically appeared from a shadowy corner. Tim told him that if they didn’t want people to dramatically emerge from a shadowy corner, they shouldn’t have any shadowy corners to begin with. Kon asked if Tim thought the Kents could afford lamps to put in all the corners of their house. Bart told them to stop arguing because even he wasn’t capable of following their leaps of logic.
Tim didn’t believe he was scary. Not like Batman or Nightwing (Nightwing was occasionally scary… when Dick felt like being so). Definitely not on Red Hood’s level, because Tim would have to be a criminal to be on Red Hood’s level. He was criminally disadvantaged when it came to comparing himself to Robin because Robin carried around swords. Oracle was a force of pure evil when angered. Black Bat was just scary in general.
Honestly, compared to anyone else in Gotham, Tim believed he was the one rogues worried about the least. He hardly ever went out, honestly, so they probably all forgot about him.
(There were some rumours, spread amongst the criminal underground, that there was a Gotham vigilante who was never caught on camera. Who was impossible to see coming and even more difficult to keep track of. Rumours said this vigilante wasn’t human, was metahuman or worse. They said the vigilante must’ve fallen in battle, because the vigilante suddenly reappeared like a demon, attacking ruthlessly and yet… Still no images of him. The rumours said he was a ghost, a vampire, or maybe even a demon.
Tim figured they were just being dramatic and told Dick to stop telling him about weird things that didn’t relate to anything. He’d asked if Dick knew why Hood kept laughing at him every time Tim saw him recently, not if Dick knew any fairy tales among criminals. Dick had stared at him blankly for a long time, then turned on his heel and left. Tim wondered if it was a bonding tactic. He wondered why Dick thought he needed to use bonding tactics on him. Tim was pretty sure any extra bonding was just overdoing it.)
Tim didn’t think much of himself in general, but in comparison to the other vigilantes in Gotham? There was no way he held even a candle to them.
Or, at least, he assumed.
#this isn’t quite what you asked for i realize#but it is tim being absolutely insane#and everyone trying to get him to understand that he’s frightening#and tim being like ‘nah’#it was supposed to be a 5+1#where all of his family members and friends#realize exactly how many villains are either terrified of tim#or just want tim dead in general#i didn’t finish it bc there were a lot of comics i had to go through to write it#the inane ramblings of a madman#ask#anonymous#fic snippet#tim drake#dc
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My Maribat Betrothal AU: Take Two
Okay so people like that post that is more of a train wreck produced by my sleep-deprived brain. I expanded on it and added some changes. Fair warning: Most of my ML and DC knowledge came from Maribat fics, a few episodes and the DCU movies like son of Batman. I have Mari's pov and background stuff written and it needs some editing. Anyways, enjoy <3
It is not a continuation but: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0
[Masterlist]
(Part 2)
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PART 1
Damian groaned.
He was not having a good day.
First, Father decided to pair him with Todd, TODD of all people, for patrol.
Second, while doing a stake-out for the warehouse near the docks which might be used as storage for criminal activity and enduring Red Hood's annoying taunts, they both were knocked out by tranquilizers and his mother's face was the last thing he had remembered seeing.
"Don't worry, little one. You are just fulfilling your duties as heir to the Demon's Head. Then, all will be perfect." She had said, just before he fully lost consciousness.
Third, he woke up to being chained up with a major headache. Taking a bearing of his surroundings, the room he was imprisoned in had two exits, an iron door and a window that had the view of his childhood home. He was dressed in wedding ensembles of the League of Shadows. Red Hood was chained up next to him as well but unlike him, still had his suit and helmet on. Glancing to the other side, he saw a raven-haired girl, chained up and dressed in the black and gold robes of a bride. She had also retained consciousness and was staring at him.
Bluebell eyes met his piercing green.
His betrothal was petite with Asian features. She had freckles dotting her button nose and rosy cheeks.
She is fragile and will break easily, he thought. Why did his mother want him to marry such a weakling?
"Savez-vous où nous sommes? (Do you know where we are?)" Her voice was sweet and trembling with fear. Her eyes were wide and seemed filled with innocence yet carrying great sadness. She was an Angel, an ordinary girl, not fit for this harsh and unforgiving world she was forcefully going to get married to.
She opened her mouth to ask another question and suddenly, she went limp, appearing to be unconscious. Damian furrowed his brows in confusion. Why did she-
A moment later, he heard footsteps approaching and the iron door opened to reveal his mother.
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Jason woke up to the sight of the Bitch Talia and Demon Spawn, face to face, glaring at each other.
Talia broke the tense silence.
"Damian, I hope you know what you should do."
"To be forcefully married to that little girl. She is no one special. Why am I getting married to her?"
Married? The Demon Spawn is getting married?!
Jason saw through his helmeted vision, a girl about Damian's age, chained up like them but not yet awake. He raised his hand and saw the shackles around his wrists. The chains were connected to the wall. He experimentally yanked the chains, drawing Talia’s attention.
“Well, Jason, you are awake. You can be the best man for the wedding.”
“No. I don’t know what game you are playing but you better release us. B is gonna find us and you will pay. Let the girl go. She is innocent in all of this.” Jason said vehemently.
"Ladybug may not seem like it but she possesses great power that my father converted for centuries. Speaking of, she should be awake by now."
Talia stood up and grabbed Ladybug’s(?) hair and yanked so that her eyes met the girl's. The girl, who unfortunately was going to be the Demon Spawn's bride, lets out a cry and starts to tear up. Jason felt anger at how she was being treated, seeing the girl as a little sister already.
"Tch, See, she is more pathetic than I thought. She is not powerful." Demon Spawn growled out. The girl starts babbling in French. From the little French Jason knows, she was begging for mercy.
“Like I thought, weak. She is not deserving of the title of my wife.” Damian spat out.
"Appearance can be deceiving. Despite her demeanor, she is the current wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Current Guardian. The old Guardian, the old fool had promised her in exchange for his protection." Talia countered, letting go of the girl.
Miraculous? Guardian? What the hell?
"That doesn't mean I want to marry her. She is not worthy of an Al Ghul or a Wayne. Look at her, crying at the slightest feeling of pain."
The mother and son begin to bicker. Damian refusing to marry and Talia trying to change his mind.
“Yes, both have to be willing to be married but the curse placed on both of you will ensure that you will agree.”
The dark haired girl had stopped crying and started whispering in a strange language when the fight started, fiddling with the silver ring she wore. Jason saw a terrifying smile crossed the face of the girl across him that chilled him to the bones. Later, a black blur came out of her robes and went through the door. He wondered if he imagined that before he was a determined glint in her eyes.
He blinked.
Talia was choking on the chains that were previously chained to the wall and were now around her neck. Fortunately for them, Talia had closed the door after her entrance and the guards most likely to be stationed outside didn’t storm into the cell. The girl whispered something in Talia's ear, making the woman's eyes widen with what could be fear.
The experienced assassin struggled to get free and gain an upper hand on the girl but was unsuccessful, passing out from the lack of oxygen and strangely strong grip of the small girl.
What happened next was surprising. She breathed hard on her shackles which instantly disintegrated into flakes of rust.
Holy Shit! Demon Spawn's girl is magic. Jason knows his mouth was hanging open under his helmet at that realization. Damian seems to be in the same state.
Talia didn't have the keys to the locks. Being crafty like that. Bitch
"Call me Lady." she said in lightly accented English as she summoned black orbs at the tip of her hands. “Stay still.”
She then proceeds to place her hands on Jason’s shackles, turning them into nothing more than specks.
"I am Red Hood." said Jason, rubbing his wrists.
"The little shit here," as he kicked Damian's leg, " is-"
"Damian Al Ghul" she said the last name with venom. She moved on to Damian's bonds. "Son of that bitch over there, grandson of Ra's, demon heir, blah blah blah. Hold still, mon mignon. I am sure you don't want to lose a hand."
Damian stopped moving at that, due to the pet name or fear Jason couldn’t tell but by the red at the tips of his ear, it could be the former. And she used her powers to free him.
Lady somehow managed to use what remained of the chains to hog tie Talia up.
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“How do we get out?” Damian asked, inspecting the blade that he flinched from his mother.
“Hey, kit.” A nasally voice called out. “I checked out the place we are in. Like you asked. The way to the Throne room is heavily guarded and they seem to think old Ra’s the target. The Pits are guarded too but they are nothing you can’t handle.”
“What is that?” Jason shrieked.
“Thanks, Plagg, you will get that camembert danish when we get back. This is a kwami, a god of sorts and his thing is destruction so I wouldn’t insult him if I were you. He likes to go by Plagg”, answered Lady, which doesn’t clear up Jason’s confusion.
“So, Pigtails, what’s the plan?” The floating, black cat-shaped god(?) asked.
“I was thinking of destroying the Pits to give Al Ghul a middle finger and call Maman to use the Horse to get home.”
“We need Tikki to get rid of it..”
“I will just tell Maman to bring the earrings.”
Damian snorted, “That sounds like a foolish plan. You are insane and not strong enough to take on the League alone, despite having a ‘god’ of destruction at your side. This Tikki or magic earrings will destroy the Pits, many have tried. And sorry to disappoint but no horse can make it up the mountainside of Nanda Parbat.”
“Have to agree with Demon Spawn here and I rarely do that. Your plan sounds insane, Pixie. You are just one girl. Let us help, we know the League better than you. We can come up with a better one.” Jason was worried for the girl, she was crazy if she thought her plan would work.
Lady smirked, “It is a perfectly sound plan. I know what I am talking about. Despite the weak girl act, I am no Damsel in distress. After this is all over, we will split our ways and hopefully, never see each other again.”
“We can’t separate. My mother said there is a curse that will ‘make us fall in love.’” Damian said, using air quotes. “You need to come with us so we can get someone to break it.”
“Fine. But I need to do something before I am coming with you. Plagg, Claws out.”
Bright green light flashed around her and she was now dressed in a black bodysuit with green linings. It was armoured at the chest, knees and elbows. (Add whatever details you want, I can’t do it. Jacket, designs, use your imagination) Her gloves were claws-like, reminding them of Selina and there was a belt carrying some vials, pouches and throwing stars. Her hair was now longer and braided and seemed to move on its own. Cat ears were attached to her head. Her eyes were changed so the sclera were the same shade of blue as her iries and the pupils were slitted like a cat. A black domino mask framed her face. Two ten-inch daggers appeared out of thin air in her hands.
The transformed Lady did the inhuman feat of kicking the door open. The assassins stationed outside were immediately knocked out by Lady.
“Well, are you coming or not?” She called out, before running down the corridor. Jason patted his shocked brother’s shoulder, “You doing okay there, demon spawn?”
“Tch, Let’s go, Todd.” Damian replied, trying to get rid of that funny feeling in his chest.
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To Join the Whispers (7)
AO3
Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe
Summary: THIS IS A CROSSOVER A contact for the Batfamily passed along a rumor that the League of Assassins were investigating a small city called Amity Park. The old man and Tim managed to find evidence of unusual paranormal activity in the town. While they weren’t entirely certain it wasn’t just infested with metas, the locals believed the entities that haunted, for lack of a better word, the town were actual ghosts. If there was one thing Ra’s al Ghul didn’t need to get his grubby hands on, it was ghosts.That’s probably why Jason was doing this. He had the unfortunate luck to experience both death and resurrection in a way he’d never recommend to anyone else.
Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, and questionable mental health
Parings: none
Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr. Jason Todd-centric
“So get this, our old buddy Bill got loaned out to Intergang a few months ago,” Stephanie began. “Best he can tell, they wanted to get a feel for how easy it would be to obtain ecto-weaponry and how it could be modified. However, they lost several men in previous attempts.”
“Let me guess,” Tim set aside one of the belts and began prying open the electronics on another one, “they wanted help that was more disposable.”
“You got it! Well, apparently Amity’s considered to be the Bermuda Triangle of cities in the criminal underworld. Most low levels are afraid of the place since there have been way too many stories of them vanishing after jobs in the area. Bill said if it wasn’t for the threat of being shot on the spot, he would have refused.”
Bill was one of the regular thugs in Gotham. He’d been around so long all of them knew him by sight, but he rarely stated with one organization for too long. It was almost a rite of passage the first time one of them knocked him out during a mission.
“Anyways, once they got there, they barely had a chance to set up camp before things started happening.” She paused as she attempted to increase the drama of her retelling. “Someone heard something and raised the alarm. Before anyone had a chance to act any further, Bill says he saw someone vanish into the ground. He said it looked like he just fell into it, but there was no hole in the floor. There were no marks suggesting the guy had even been standing there.”
“A few people started firing guns, making the others run for cover. Others vanished in the confusion. Bill grabbed the talisman he managed to get from an acquaintance prior to coming to Amity. He didn’t know much about it other than it was believed to have been blessed or something by someone who practices the occult.” Stephanie huffed in irritation for a moment before continuing. “Normally I’d say old Bill lost it, but he’s absolutely convinced the thing saved his life.”
“Constantine and Zantana have both mentioned and used mystical artifacts in their line of work,” Bruce explained as a way of saying it was possible. “However, it seems unlikely any such object found its way into the ranks of low-level criminals.”
“Right? Well, Bill said something tried to grab him but shrieked in pain when it touched him. Said a ghost manifested in front of him and snarled. It then blasted him with something pinkish. He’s not too sure what happened after that, but he did come back to consciousness, he found himself alone. He couldn’t find evidence of the scuffle or what happened to the others. Spooked, he fled back to Gotham, reported what he knew to Intergang, and swore off stepping into Amity ever again.”
“Did he give you any description of what he saw?”
“No, not really. Just said he fought a ‘blue-skinned ghost’ dressed in white. Sounds cliché, but Bill’s terrified of whatever it was.”
Damian tutted as he shifted positions on the chair he was using. “His story comes across as fallacious.”
“With how long Bill’s been around, he doesn’t tend to get shaken up too often. I’m liable to believe him,” Tim murmured as he looked up from his work.
“Agreed. He possibly encountered Plasmius or one of his duplicates.” Bruce grabbed one of the completed belts. “Barbara, send me the coordinates of that building. Duke, you’re coming with me. We’ll make a quick verification trip.”
“I take it you want us to continue things here?” Jason had no idea why Dick would even ask. All of them knew they roles at this point.
“I’d also recommend getting ready. We do have a fundraiser to attend.”
…
Jason stared at himself in the mirror as he got ready. Was it just him, or did the white streak in his hair seem to be glowing? Pulling the tuft of hair down for a closer look, he found there did seem to be an unnatural silvery sheen to it. Had it been like this all day? Or was this one of those things that would come and go?
It wasn’t like he could dye it. He knew; he’d tried, repeatedly. So, he did the only thing he knew could possibly work, he begrudgingly asked Dick for advice and then immediately regretted it.
Dick ushered him into the bathroom with the others crowding into it just so they could see what happened when the lights were turned off. In the darkness, the tuft gave off a soft white glow, and of course, everyone had to try to touch it. So, he ended up elbowing a few people until Bruce, who must have just returned with Duke, heard the commotion, opened the door, and turned the lights on.
The man who spent so much time terrorizing the criminals of Gotham took one look at the scene before pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling. It was nice to know, in a messed-up sort of way, that there was nothing he could do to stop their own sort of insanity.
Dick gave a pleasant chuckle as he manifested a jar of hair gel. Apparently, it was some weird high-end product. Jason wrinkled his nose at its unpleasant smell as his brother applied the stuff and teased his hair. Whatever it was, it gave his black locks a sheen which not only complimented the troublesome white streak but also helped mask the glow.
Once free of his brother, Jason made his way into the common area of the hotel room to tie his tie and work on figuring out which Fenton-tech he could hide on him.
While he worked, Duke quickly explained that Bill’s tip was correct, and the local cops had been provided an anonymous tip. He also tried and failed to not stare at the white streak.
“Apparently an aftereffect of being permanently bonded with ectoplasm is to glow.” He tried to keep his voice even, but the irritation still crept into it. The sooner he got back to Gotham, the better. Maybe then they’d leave him alone.
“Looks nice.” Cass, now in a flattering plum-colored dress, surprised him as she approached and reached out a hand to touch his hair. Nope, he wasn’t going to allow that to start again. He wasn’t keen on sitting through another styling.
Bruce almost smiled at them as he fixed one of his cufflinks, but a more neutral expression quickly replaced it. “How is the Fenton home life?” Oh yeah, that hadn’t been mentioned in the excitement of everything else.
“They have a better homelife than I did, but that’s not really that hard of an accomplishment,” he explained while crossing his arms. The Fenton home situation was a murky gray. “Maddie and Jack don’t seem to be purposely neglectful, but their willingness to drop everything and leave their kids alone at any sign of ghostly activity is worrisome. I also don’t know how willingly they’d accept the truth of Danny’s situation. Me and Duke got to see up close and personal how they reacted to Phantom, and a few of the descriptions he gave us about what some of the Fenton tech could do to a ghost made my skin crawl. It’s no wonder why he’s more willing to open up to a stranger.” After a moment of deliberation, he added, “Oh, and there was something that suspiciously looked like an Iron Maiden tucked in a corner of the lab.”
“I’m sorry, there’s what?” Duke, who had moved to a chair as they talked, went slack jawed.
“Danny said it was called the Fenton Stockades.”
“It.. wasn’t used?” Cass’ searched his face for a confirmation it wasn’t. She knew better than the rest of them how the threat and implementation of harm could be used to control children. Her mother had gone so far as to have her vocal cords damaged to prevent her from speaking.
“Doubt it. I’m absolutely positive Jazz would have called CPS herself if her parents tried that.”
“Jazz does appear to be exceptionally adjusted despite the eccentricities of her parents.” Jason raised an eyebrow at Bruce. Did he miss the irony of calling someone else eccentric? The man dressed as a giant bat to terrorize criminals.
He really shouldn’t say anything as he wore the Robin costume for a time, but those colors were originally implemented as an homage to Dick’s family. Bruce actively dressed as a thing he had a phobia of. Yeah, if that wasn’t eccentric, he didn’t know what was.
“I doubt you want my opinion on the matter, but don’t try to pull Danny away from his family,’ he warned Bruce. “He’s already dealing with a maniac who wants him for a son, so offering to mentor him might backfire.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Bruce turned his attention back towards the bedroom. “Are the rest of you ready?”
Dick momentarily popped into view. “Almost.” A minutes later, he gently herded and obviously annoyed Damian into the room. Tim, who had the Specter Deflectors draped over his shoulders, closely followed.
“Alfred would like a family picture before we leave and predictably ruin our suits,” Dick explained as he fiddled with his phone. Jason didn’t doubt the butler said something along those lines. “We just need one.”
One photo took nearly ten minutes to get, but this time, the only injuries were a couple new bruises. In their family, that was a win. Alfred would be proud.
….
Although Jason would never openly admit it, he was impressed with how much work Tim put into fixing the Deflectors. It was still uncomfortable to wear, but at least it was more pins and needles as opposed to jackhammer vibrations. There was also the possibility that it would help keep any ghostly slipups in check. Danny did mention electricity disrupted a ghost’s abilities.
Speaking of electricity, a storm rolled into the area shortly before they left. While the rain hadn’t started, the rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. As they traveled to the fundraiser in the limo Masters sent for them, flickers of blue and green flames could be seen around some of the buildings. St. Elmo’s fire maybe? At sea, the phenomenon was considered good luck, but when seen inland, it usually foretold bad times ahead. From what he’d seen of Amity so far, he’d take the warning.
The rain started as they reached the mansion. Even with the gloomy atmosphere, the white, gold, and green building was still tacky. Most sports fans just decorated one or two rooms with their team colors, but the man was so obsessed with the Green Bay Packers that he reportedly chose their colors for most of his properties.
Although somewhat muted from the effects of the belt, the Pit angrily churned as the doorman greeted them. At first, he couldn’t figure out why. The man seemed normal enough even if he’d probably been hired just for the fundraiser, but as they passed him, Jason noted an odd glow and a bluish tint to the man’s skin. Looking at the others, only Duke seemed to realize something was off. It was a ghost. Masters hired a ghost to greet people at the door? What the hell? A quick gesture to the others brought them up to speed.
Once they arrived in the ballroom, Masters greeted them. Jadon didn’t miss how he purposely avoided touching any of them. Although he was nonchalant about it, he must decided to err on the side of caution. Being shocked in front of a crowd of people did make it difficult to keep ones cover after all.
After a few introductions and some photos from the press, Jason and the others slowly dispersed through the crowd. The room itself was unremarkable, which set Jason on edge. Most rooms used for such large gatherings were designed to flaunt wealth, but the walls were mostly bare stone with a couple paintings and banners. If it wasn’t for the large windows and the curtains, he’d say the room was designed to be part of a prison or asylum than for entertaining guests.
It took a few minutes, but Jason eventually found Danny in one of the corners, speaking with his friend Sam. The Pit whispered the familiar greeting as he approached, and Danny seemed to sense him in return as he gave a quick wave. With how tensed his shoulders were, it appeared he was expecting something to happen.
“Where’s everyone else?” Danny questioned when he got within earshot.
“Around. It’s pretty common for us to get in trouble at these sorts of things, so keeping us close together is often a bad idea.” He shrugged as he put his hands in his pockets. While it was true he really hadn’t contributed to the mayhem over the years, he’d heard some of what his siblings had pulled. Maybe he should conspire with Dick and the demon brat this time, just to get under Masters’ skin.
“Maybe I should take some lessons,” Sam muttered, “then maybe my parents will stop making me come to these things.”
Jason chuckled as he scanned the crowd. There weren’t a lot of familiar faces. That was odd. Normally at things like this he’d see several familiar faces, good, bad, and neutral. Danny mentioned he thought that Masters might be targeting Bruce. Maybe that was true, at least at first.
“Jason?” He glanced over to see Danny giving him a concerned look. Oops, he had gotten distracted.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
“Uh, have things been…” he glanced at Sam. Great, he said something to her. Kid needed to better learn how to keep others secrets, “erm… okay since your trip?”
“Couple accidents.”
Danny nodded, but his eyes did momentarily flicker towards the white streak. Was it still glowing? “Did your brother fix the belt?”
“Yeah.” It felt weird to hear someone else call Tim his brother. Deciding to not acknowledge it anymore than he had to, he lifted the suit jacket just enough for Danny to get a quick look. “Still not the most pleasant thing, but tolerable.”
“Maybe we can get him to tell Tucker how he did that,” Sam mused. “He’s been trying unsuccessfully to alter them for months. Oh great, here they come.” Jason followed her line of sight and found two annoyed adults coming their way.
“Sammikins,” the woman tried to sound pleasant, but there was an edge to her voice, “please mingle with the crowd. Many of our acquaintances would be happy to meet you.” She tried and failed to hide a grimace when she glanced at Jason and Danny. “They would be better company than these rapscallions.”
Jason couldn’t help himself and snorted. Even all dressed up, some folk could still tell he was a street kid. Though, it could also be the hair. The white streak was off putting.
The man glared at him. “Do you have something to say to my wife?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Manson, how lovely it is to see you.” At the sound of the cultured voice, they turned to see Masters approaching. “I take it you’re acquainted with my godson, Daniel.” The sour expression they made was picture worthy. “And Jason, it’s good to see you again. I caught a glimpse of a couple of your siblings, but I haven’t seen your father yet.”
Jadon took the outstretched hand. Masters did very well to hide the pain from the belt shocking him. “Sorry, I must be a bit staticky.” He kept his voice light but gave a devilish smirk. “Bruce is around somewhere, but he’s great at vanishing in a crowd. If you can find Damian, you’ll probably find either him or Dick nearby.” Someone had to keep the Demon Brat from attempting to stab the party guests.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jason didn’t miss how Masters rubbed his sore hand. Or how the man gave him a calculated look.
“You know this scoundrel?” Mrs. Manson demanded.
“Mom, this ‘scoundrel’ is Jason Todd. You know, one of Bruce Wayne’s children.” Sam smiled in utter delight at the dawning horror on her parents’ faces. It was great to not be recognized as easily as his siblings. Maybe he should come to more upscale parties. Well, maybe two or three a year instead of just one. “He’s also friends with Danny.”
“You’ve only been in town for a few short days. When did you have time to meet?” Masters raised an eyebrow as he turned his gaze towards Danny.
“We happened to meet at that burger place you dropped me and my brothers off at the day we arrived.” Jason kept his voice causal as he leaned against the wall. He didn’t want Masters to get the impression Danny told him anything about Plasmius. “We overheard him and his friends talking about the fundraiser, and Dick decided to interrupt.”
Masters’ expression relaxed as he entertained the idea. “With how frequently he eats there, that’s not surprising.”
“Hey, it’s either eat fast food or risk being attacked by reanimated food.” Danny was too nonchalant talking about reanimated food for his liking. Also, how the hell does someone reanimate food? He must have made a face because Danny added, “My parents like attempting to use alternative energy sources for cooking, namely ectoplasm.”
“Remind me to never accept food from your parents.” For Jason, that absolutely proved ectoplasm and the waters of the Pit were the same thing. What else could bring food back to life? And he was not going to mention that to Bruce. The man didn’t need another reason to consider adopting Danny.
“Forgive us for our rudeness.” Sam’s mother looked as if she swallowed a lemon. “However, we had been told you had passed away.”
“Mom, you can’t just ask someone why they aren’t dead,” Sam deadpanned, making Danny snicker.
“I was caught up in an accident overseas. That part is true,” Jason easily explained before gesturing to the white streak. “This is a souvenir from the healing process. I assume you can understand why I’ve shied away from public events for some time.” Taking a page out of Bruce’s book, he set his jaw and scowled at the couple to show the conversation was over. The sudden change in his demeanor unsettled them.
Rich people seriously had nothing better to do than to gossip. Sure, he and his family used that gossip train for information, but it always rubbed him the wrong way when they talked about others being injured or killed. There was just a kind of weird pleasure they got from discussing it. When he was on the streets, sure it came up, but there was more of a respect for the injured party.
“I’m sure you can forgive them for being curious,” Masters interrupted with a practiced smile. “Most of the reports have been blown out of proportion.”
Jason turned his glare towards the man. Was that just an innocent turn of phrase, or did he do that on purpose?
Sam’s parents excused themselves and disappeared into the crowd. They were probably just trying to save face, but they might have been intimidated too. He was told he had that effect on people. No matter the reason, he was glad they were gone. But he still had to deal with Masters.
“Are you interested in getting involved in the business world like your father and brothers?” Masters continued as if he hadn’t said anything wrong. “If you’d like a change in scenery, you’re more than welcome to get some experience with mine for a few months.”
“That’s awfully nice of you.” Jason crossed his arms and looked Masters in the eye. The man’s hungry look morphed back into a neutral expression. “But why me? You aren’t well-known for offering positions to people. Besides, both Dick and Tim, hell, even Damian, are better suited for the business world than I am.”
“What can I say, I’m a bit curious.” Masters shrugged and placed his hands in his pockets. “Besides, I believe you’re selling yourself short. Rumors have persisted for a while that you were able to take most of Roman Sionis’ assets without ever meeting with him.”
Roman Sionis, the Black Mask. How did Masters know about that? That occurred right after he returned to Gotham, and other than the hints he had given Bruce prior to showing himself, he made sure not to let anyone else know he existed. They hadn’t found any information to suggest Masters knew about their family hobby, but it’s possible he made some connections when they came to town. Or, he’d known for a while. That was possible. Tim managed to figure it out when he was like nine, but Tim’s deductive reasoning was off the charts.
“I don’t think I know what you mean,” he replied evenly. “I briefly met the man once when I was younger.”
“Oh, I must be mistaken then.” The smug grin Masters wore confirmed he knew about his status as the Red Hood. “But the offer still stands. I believe I could teach you a great deal of things. But, I should return to greeting my other guests. Ta!” He turned, gave a small wave, and walked back into the crowd.
“Who’s this Roman guy?” Danny gave him a curious look.
“Remember the story about the duffle bag?” He almost laughed at the stunned expression on Danny’s face. “Well, that’s the guy.”
While Danny told Sam it wasn’t a good idea to ask, Jason touched his earpiece to get the rest of his family’s attention. “Masters suspects us.”
Bruce’s voice crackled across the connection. The weird interference was back. Was it the storm? Or the high amount of ectoplasm in the air? “You’re sure?”
“He hinted he knew how I targeted Sionis. He didn’t mention anything else.”
“Understood.” After a brief moment of silence, Bruce added, “Any other reports?”
“You mean other than the usual mischief?” The smugness in Dick’s voice made him think he’d already figured out how to get up to the chandeliers.
Bruce gave his second long-suffering sigh for the day. He should know by now that if chaos didn’t come find them that they’d make their own.
“Movement at the windows.”
At Cass’ statement, Jason moved so he could better see the closest window. He didn’t see movement, but there weren’t any trees close enough to be mistaken for a person or persons. They couldn’t currently check outside, but someone else could.
“Danny, hate to ask, but would you be able to check something?” He tried to keep his tone light as to not scare the kid, but Danny saw through him.
“Does this deal with the reason you guys were investigating that warehouse?”
“You can say that. The organization those guys belonged to might want revenge against Plasmius, and might go after Masters to get to him.” He chose his words carefully. Between the possibility of the League attacking, and the Pit’s grumbles that something, possibly a duplicate of Plasmius, was nearby, he wanted to make it seem like he thought Masters and Plasmius weren’t the same person. “Cass, who you’ve only met in passing, noticed something outside.”
“And you’d like me to check.” At his nod, Danny frowned. “You know you could…”
“And I’d likely get stuck. Like you said, there aren’t any instruction manuals for this kind of thing.”
“Oh, right.” The kid’s expression fell. Was he really that desperate to have someone else develop those same powers?
“Remember to stay intangible so you don’t get wet.” Sam sounded tired, as if this sort of thing was a normal occurrence. Danny gave her a sheepish expression before vanishing from sight.
She must have thought Danny was out of earshot when she glared at Jason. “You better not hurt him.”
=========
Notes: Bill is a nod to thepandaredd's skits on TikTok
Everyone else might have forgotten about the Fenton Stockades, but Pepperidge Farm remembers
my brain provided me with a head cannon for Jason's white streak, and now it has been shared with the rest of you. I also have a headcanon that due to the ambient ectoplasm in the air, St. Elmo's fire, which is a really neat plasma phenomenon, often occurs before storms.
The Black Mask was invited to a party at Wayne Manor when Jason was still Robin. At the time, Roman was trying to off Bruce... And I don't know if this is still canon or not. DC, your reboots confuse me.
Revealed in Hush and Under the Red Hood (this was ignored in the animated films), Jason had slowly been planting evidence he'd returned to Gotham. That included showing himself to Batman (and grabbing Tim and threatening to kill him), and momentarily fighting him before switching out with Clayface. While Bruce concluded there's no way it could have been Jason, the familiarity of the fighting style unsettled him.
Also, if anyone would like to suggest chapter names, feel free.
#danny phantom#dp#dp au#danny fenton#fanfic#sam manson#vlad plasmius#to join the whispers#dp crossover#I still don't understand the popularity of this fic
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I. Am actually low-key fucking terrified/panicky even queuing this, but I wanted to, so:
I’ve had an idea for a long while now of an AU where Talia takes Jason in either after he fails to kill Bruce with the car comb or after Bruce slices his throat open and he becomes full-on League.
More details under the cut.
Warnings: Mentions of attempted murder, implied patricide, and past infanticide.
Things that I’ve thought of so far:
Talia originally intended to keep Jason around to use him as Damian’s bodyguard because she doesn’t trust her father for shit, not necessarily because she cared about Jason or because he meant anything to her.
Alternatively, she wants to overthrow her father and needs someone she can trust at Damian’s side. Again, it’s not because she cares about Jason but because she knows he’ll do anything to protect a child.
Re: Egon.
Spoiler: She grows to care for Jason, and he ends up meaning a fuck-ton to her.
Jason Todd “stays” or once again “becomes” dead (depends on when she takes him in, see top of post), and Talia creates a new identity for him: Dusan al Ghul, codename White Ghost.
Dušan, derived the Slavic noun duša (soul), primarily used among Serbs, Czechs, and Slovaks
Pet form: Dule (in Serbia)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dušan
If going with Dušan, need backstory.
Dusan is canonically albino, and apparently Ra’s considers that a disability?
Note: Need to verify if he did.
Actually, is it a disability? Albinism affects the eyes, too, and people with albinism tend to be sensitive to light. Does that count?
Note: Need to research.
Ra’s could’ve killed Dusan as a baby, and Nyssa, who’d witnessed it, threw it at Talia as a way to get her to turn on Ra’s if going the overthrowing route. (e.g., “If he could kill his own son, what makes you think he wouldn’t do the same to his grandson?”)
If so, what happens after? What, they co-lead?
If so, would also need to figure out what the fuck Nyssa’s backstory is because would rather not stick to canon with this one.
Alternatively, pare canon down and just stick with Talia being an only child.
Dusan al Ghul? Or just Dusan? Dušan?
Bruce adopted Jason, so maybe al Ghul? Especially if Bruce and Talia are married.
Are they married??
If so, open marriage vs. poly?
If not, let’s make them married, I like the idea of Jason being an al Ghul. And also their potential relationship dynamic if they were married.
Jason protects the shit out of Damian, and while he’s still raised to be an assassin because he’s heir to the League, none of that high-key child abuse shit. Or, well, the worst of it anyway.
Damian comes to trust Jason and believes him to be his legit brother.
His flesh-and-blood brother?
Talia doesn’t mention the adoption, and the “al Ghul” bit of his name doesn’t help the confusion.
If so, Jason starts to introduce the idea of adoption and how blood isn’t the defining factor for relatives? To soften the blow if/when Damian finds out that no, Jason isn’t actually Talia’s blood son, they’re not related by blood?
Alternatively, he already knew he and Jason weren’t related by blood, but the thought that that made him any less his sibling never occurred to him.
Talia takes her marital duties seriously, even if she and Bruce are separated, and it’s largely the reason for her taking care of Jason while he was in his fugue state (because he was Bruce’s son and, therefore, hers as well). She could’ve imparted similar values to Damian.
Fugue state?
Note: Need to research/pin down if nothing comes close.
Consider: Jason pulls a Bruce and adopts a kid, namely Cassandra.
She’s David Cain’s daughter, and he’s League, so Jason’ll have heard of him, if not met him. And when he finds out about the fucked-up shit he’s doing, he’ll definitely put him down first and adopt take her under his wing second.
Canonically, she ran away at from Cain at eight years old, but no matter how skilled she is, she’s eight. Also, would she have even been taught how to stay hidden and undetected by people hunting her down and how to survive on the streets beyond keeping herself physically safe?
So: She tries to run away, but Cain catches her. She keeps trying, and he keeps dragging her back, sometimes kicking and screaming, others unconscious. Punishments galore.
Damian definitely pulls the “old cat being high-key jealous and offended at the introduction of a kitten to the household” routine.
And then Cassandra beats him in a spar, and Damian gets all competitive, which does not help the jealousy.
Consider: Given his bloodline and his status as heir to the League, Damian probably has far too high expectations of himself, so being beaten will not only be a blow to his pride (depending on how easily he was beaten), but also freak him the fuck out because he’s supposed to be better than this, he’s an al Ghul! He’s the heir to the League of Assassins, he’s supposed to be strong! How can he lead if he’s so weak?
Cassandra lets Jason know, and he reassures Damian. It doesn’t magically go away, of course, but now Jason knows what to look out for.
No, Cassandra doesn’t kill. She doesn’t want to, and Jason gets violent when someone implies she should or tries to make her.
It’s... a unique relationship in that Cass likes Jason, trusts him, and appreciates that he never pushes her to do anything she doesn’t want to, but she also doesn’t like that he kills.
Note: Need to work out how I want that to play out. Better than it canonically did between Jason and the Batfam, at the very least.
So. There’s apparently a League team of teenagers?? How much of a Bruce do I want Jason to pull?
Talia could assign them to him, partially because he specifically asked (to try and mitigate the high-key child abuse shit like with Damian) and partially because she’s considering making him the trainer of the next generation of assassins.
Why make him a trainer? There’s too much a risk of friction between Jason and the other League members who’ve been around longer, and his loyalty’s too questionable, as far as anyone outside their circle’s concerned.
Alternatively, Talia assigns Damian to the team so he can have practice leading his own team for when/if he takes over (maybe a branch, i.e., she’ll entrust a continent to him or something because the world’s fucking huge?). It’ll also give him the opportunity to start collecting people he can trust and rely on, but since thus far, Damian doesn’t have their unshakeable loyalty, they’re potential threats, hence Jason’s presence/mentor status.
Note: Gotta research said team of teenagers some more.
https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Demon’s_Fist_(Prime_Earth)
Note: Find a different name for the team, ideally one more professional/militaristic, e.g., Alpha Team.
Alternatively, Talia could just call them “Damian’s team.”
I’d still need something for the team to call themselves.
Possible Batfam reunion ideas:
Damian decides he wants to go to Gotham to meet his father, and Jason follows because Joker’s still alive.
Is Joker still alive? Consider: Talia offered him Joker’s head in exchange for his service.
Not that he wouldn’t have done it even without the offer. No way would Jason let a kid get hurt if there was anything he could do to stop it.
Alternatively, Talia hadn’t made the offer originally (or he declined her offer originally), but after she gets attached to him, she kills Joker anyway. He’s a threat to her family, and she doesn’t tolerate those.
If going this route, could make for a good breakdown in Jason and Talia explicitly claiming him as one of her own.
Alternatively, she already killed him, or had him killed, because she saw him as her son from the beginning due to his adoption. (See above bullet point about her taking her marital duties seriously.)
Then he wouldn’t have gone back to Gotham as the Red Hood. Why wouldn’t he if Joker’s already dead? Unless it’s because she did it and not Bruce?
Maybe he just. Never went back. After she put him in the Pit and trained him up (maybe to burn out the Pit rage/madness), he just stayed in the League because she’s the one who killed the Joker for killing him, and she’s the one who found him while he was wandering the streets after he dug himself out of his grave. She’s the only one who noticed that he’d come back to life.
Also, if he knew about Damian (and he would’ve, Talia wouldn’t have a reason to keep her sons apart, even if Ra’s insisted on it, which he probably would’ve), Jason wouldn’t have wanted to leave Damian in the League with fucking Ra’s, even with Talia there.
For all the differences in their respective situations, it’s a little too close to how his own childhood was like for him to just leave Damian.
Would explain the AU name better, tbh.
Hmm...
If no Joker, why follow Damian to Gotham? Out of loyalty? Because abilities aside, he’s still just a kid?
Probably the latter, even if Damian insists he can go on his own (he’ll have Cassandra, he’ll be fine!).
He’s taking Cassandra because this would be her chance to get out of the League and into an environment where she would never be expected to kill and the people around her would never do it themselves.
Might be interesting to integrate how Gotham’s still Jason’s city, how much he loves it for all its grime, and how much he aches to return.
Damian goes to Gotham as a test.
A test of what?
Maybe testing what path he wants to take? (i.e., hero vs. assassin)
It could be Talia’s way of letting him choose which birthright he wants.
He’s only a kid, but given that he’s canonically trained from basically birth to be an assassin, it’s possible.
Jason follows? If not, then Damian says or does something that gets Bruce to investigate.
If yes on the team of teenagers, then there’s no reason for Damian to go to Gotham, is there? In that case, maybe a Young Justice team vs. the team scenario which eventually results in Bruce digging and finding out about Jason.
If by this point Damian knows Jason’s identity, he could be highly offended that that’s his brother’s successor. Cue canonical antagonistic relationship.
It could also be how the YJ team vs. the team happens: Damian doesn’t like Tim and tries to thwart him at every turn.
He wouldn’t use the team for a personal vendetta, especially when it’d risk catching Batman’s attention. Or anyone’s attention, his team’s still too new.
He’s ten.
Alternatively, and less fun, one of the Bats notices strange movements from the League, find out about the team, confronts Talia or the team, and then find out about Jason.
Alternatively, no reunion?
No.
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So, playing FFVII whilst doing some random musings on the DC Thing was the best decision I ever made, because now I've come up with both an explanation for the Lazarus Pits and a fun twist on Ra's al Ghul.
So, for those of you not in the know about FFVII, here's the crucial bit of lore: on the world of Gaia, there's this thing called the Lifestream, both the blood of the Planet ('Planet' is always capitalised, much like 'God' and for more-or-less the same reasons) and the accumulated souls of all who live on it. It's the foundation of everything about FFVII (literally it's the first thing Hironobu Sakaguchi came up with) and it's also where most of the... well, Fantasy elements come into play - magic is possible via things called materia, which is crystallised Lifestream, the main bad guys of most of the game, Shinra, are pumping up the Lifestream for a power source called Mako, and the ultimate Big Bad, Sephiroth, wants to use the Lifestream to become a god. There's a lot more detail about the Lifestream, but that's the basics and all you really need to know.
So, why is this relevant? Well, compare this picture of the Mako Reactor in FFVII Remake:
with this one of the Lazarus Pit from Arkham City:
I dunno, maybe it's just that I'm reaching, but they sure do seem similar, don't they? So, at least in my DCU headcanon, that's what the Pits are: the lifeblood of Earth, brought out either naturally or by Ra's himself. This not only gives a backstory to the Pits that we've never really got, it also recontextualises Ra's' often forgotten eco-terrorist thing - I'm always leery of making environmentalists the villains, as while there are ways to do it well it often feels like the writers are making them bad guys because they're environmentalists, but if Ra's is motivated to be an eco-terrorist for selfish motives, because his source of immortality literally depends on the planet staying healthy... that makes it interesting again, in my opinion. Hell, you could even have it so that Ra's' continued use of the Pits actually harms the planet, on a scale most people couldn't even dream of, but he keeps blaming overpopulation or the criminal element, the same way oil companies make the problem seem the fault of the average joe to mask their own culpability... idk, I think there's a lot you can do with this idea.
With regards to Ra's himself: I'm assuming that even people who aren't that familiar with FFVII have some idea of who Sephiroth is, right? Big sexy boy, white hair, one black wing, right? Well, one thing you may not be aware of if you've not played FFVII is that, for most of the game, you're not fighting Sephiroth. That is, you have a number of fights with Sephiroth, and he keeps showing up to ruin your day, but every time he appears - that's not Sephiroth. It's excessively complicated and confusing, but basically there's a ton of people throughout FFVII who have cells of Sephiroth (more specifically an alien MILF called Jenova who Sephiroth is convinced is his mother) implanted in them, and because of this they're all in a single hive mind, and Sephiroth is in effect the queen of the hive and can take over any of the infected people (called the Cult of Sephiroth) himself. That's who you fight and converse with for most of the game - people possessed by Sephiroth, who is also ably capable of possessing the main character as well because he also has some Jenova cells in him.
So, where am I going with this? Well, here's the thing - imagine Ra's having this ability, but instead of alien MILF cells, he can possess anyone who has ever used a Lazarus Pit. Already a scary thought, considering who has used them - Cassandra Cain, Lady Shiva, Black Canary, Batwoman - but here's the kicker: when I was plotting out the Batman Thing, one idea I had was that, initially, Bruce and Ra's actually worked together to make Gotham better - and one of the plans they had was to use the Lazarus Pit under Gotham to improve the general state of health of everyone in the city.
So, picture this: Ra's al Ghul is a ghost, not because he is so skilled at stealth, though he is that too, but because he can be anyone. He can be the waitress at your favourite café, he can be the jogger you pass every morning, he can be your own daughter, one of the most skilled martial artists in the world. You can never know where he is coming from, you can never plan for him and - even more terrifying - he may be capable of becoming you, as well, of forcing you to break your one and only rule. Ra's al Ghul is the Demon's Head, and the Demon's body is the good people of Gotham, and you can never, ever take your eyes off those.
#batman#ra's al ghul#i write things#final fantasy vii#sephiroth#I literally just came up with this today#let me know what you think!
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Miraculous and The Light (HC)
Ok, so. This HC is based on this idea. It’s a miraculous x dc crossover and one of the best ideas, I’ve read recently. I really liked it and this is why I’m forcing myself to write my ideas down.
Before we start the HC, I need to clear some things. Marinette becomes the guardian in age of 13, the kwami are teaching her as good as they can. Luka has the snake miraculous, Chloé the bee (but new costume), Kagami the dragon (again new costume) and Adrien is Chat Noir. Alix has the bunny and Kim the ape miraculous. (The two are chaos and they smelled Lila’s bullshit before she came back the second time). They deal with Hawkmoth as good as they can and they do good. Until Lila does her shit again. She manipulates Alya, which leads also Nino to be one of her followers and since Adrien is his best friend, he starts to listen to Lila. He becomes obsessed with Ladybug and her identity. The team doesn’t really notice, since it’s subtle and slowly becoming worse. So, now let’s start with the HC.
The Team protects Paris, Marinette is the leader
The situation becomes worse, the akumas take longer to defeat
They try to contact the JL, but nobody listens
And Chat Noir comes lesser to the fights, claiming his privat life is stressfull
At first, everybody understands, but it doesn’t stop and Chat becomes like a bad behaved child/brat
Lila causes another Hero Day, the Team almost looses. Chat Noir didn’t show up and the Team is angry. Chloé is ready to skin a cat
After the Hero Day, they accidentally reveal their idtities. Their group becomes closer, everybody can see, they work even better now.
Chat is envy
And Tikki is angry. No, scratch that. She’s mad. This boy could’ve been such a good cat, and now this?!
Since Plagg is her opposite, and she’s the one of Plagg, they keep each other in balance. And they aren’t in balance at all. She takes over Marinette (while she is Ladybug) and starts to rip Chat/Adrien in shreds
Whole Paris witness this and is terrified. Who knew Ladybug had such power?
Chat tries to save his face/life/’hero’ persona, but since Marinette is the guardian, she stripps him of his Miraculous, while Tikki wipes out his memories. Adrien’s former friends are sad, but also glad, they have one problem less
But now. Since Tikki used her more of her powers, some people notice, such as Klarion. He’s the server of chaos, but keeps in balance with creation. And the two aren’t balanced at all.
He talks to the Light, and surprise, surprise. Ra’s al Ghul and Vendal Savage felt it too
They begin to search and are surprised, that so many miraculous are active. The Light digs deeper and Vendal is very close getting up and burn Paris down. And take Hawkmoth with it
The inner circle of the Light (Vendal Savage, Klarion, Ra’s al Ghul, Lex Luthor, Deathstroke (there are still more members, but I will explain shortly))
Now, their primar goal is not to take over the world, or make everyone ‘see the light’. That’s what the ‘lesser’ members think (the ones, who are not in the inner circle) They want to keep the balance in the world, keep ‘peace’. But they know, it can’t be always peace, with creation there comes always destruction (Tikki and Plagg are totally their inspiration and mentors or whatever you could call that) And for this, they don’t always do ‘good’ things, like heroes do
Bc of this, every hero, every other villian thinks, that the light is bad. It’s a very good cover and so they can hide their true plans. So, the inner circle sends Black Manta after the Young Justice (the season 2 happens here) and go to Paris.
They find the miraculous users while fighting an amok and an akuma and are impressed. Clearly, most of them have no training and they hold themself formidable.
The inner circle talks with the team, which is wary. But then the kwamis recognize them and the teenagers (probably 15?) are so glad, that they finally have help. Not the one they expected, but still help
Vendal was one the first guardian, a simple man and then blessed by Tikki and Plagg. He trained other guardians and miraculous users until he almost died
Ra’s al Ghul was once a dragon, but also used the cat miraculous. This is the reason, why he can use the lazarus pit and isn’t mad
Klarion knows about the kwamis, the first gods, often makes rituals and such stuff. But he never saw a miraculous before
Deathstroke knows about the miraculous, but never knew, what power they truly hold
Lex Luthor knew about them too
The team is offered a traditional training with the League and since they are all true holders, they will master it faster than anyone before. Vendal wants to train Marinette as the guardian, after she finished hers with Ra’s. Deathstroke will be their mentor and Klarion will teach them in magic.
Lex takes them under his wing, teaching them about buisness, money, politics and manipulating
They train and fight Hawkmoth for two years. Sometimes, Vendal takes over as Chat Noir, sometimes Ra’s, to keep Marinette and Tikki balanced. But they need to find her true holder, which isn’t that easy, while they are still in training and fighting
The team is around 17/18, when they finally defeat Hawkmoth and Mayura. The major of Paris and the president of France tell the world finally the truth about the situation (world is shocked (especially when they hear, that the Justice League didn’t help))
Now, the heroes want to help, after Wonder Woman, Aquaman and Dr. Fate, as well Zatanna, kicked their asses for being dumb bitches. When Batman doesn’t stop (he’s an ass sometimes, but I don’t hate him) they threaten to leave the JL. He doesn’t belive it and suddendly he has 4 members less.
The four go to Paris, even when there is a heroes ban. They offer their alliance, but keep their distance, which everyone is glad.
Since Hawkmoth and his sidechick have been defeated, the Miraculous Team retires. Or so everybody thinks.
They all leave Paris, letting their friends and family think they have a job/go on vacation (Kagami and Luka fake their death, Marinette too)
Lila is smug, bc she thinks, she won, since Alix and Kim just leave and Chloé is a weeping mess
The six go to the League, where they learn new/more things and become the elite squad of Ra’s.
(Ra’s is totally a proud parent, who shows, how much his kids are better than anyones. Well, as good as he can with his stoic face)
The six still use their miraculous, but have new costumes (darker colors, mostly black)
And so life goes on, until the JL and the YJ attack the light. They take many hits, loose many bases and the first time, the heroes meet the squad
The six are just called ‘the squad’. They switch miraculous, so the heroes don’t make connections.
(Marinette is White (rabbit), while Chloé is Red (dragon), Kagami is Brown (monkey), Alix is Blue (snake), Kim is Scarlett (ladybug), Luka is Black (cat)) Over their costumes, they wear a typical League uniform.
They totally rip the heroes apart
Anyway. The JL and YJ are wary about the sqaud, they all know, they are deadly. Some think, even deadlier than Deathstroke.
After the attack, the squad meets Lady Shiva and Talia al Ghul
And her new pet project
You already know it. Jason Todd
His mind is fucked up, he doesn’t remember much until this woman in red smiles at him and just hugs him? Girl, this is the league?!
Jason is totally Marinette’s black cat.
He’s suddenly being trained (can you imagine a confused Jason Todd, trained by Vendal, Klarion and the rest of the team? Bc I do) and partnered with Plagg, who absolutly loves his new holder. There is so much chaos in him, he even survived the pit!
The squad goes on mission, mostly to mess with the JL, who notice, there is a new member. And oh shit- he destroys everything. And there Superman curmbles to ash... (no worries, he’s brought back)
Jason isn’t trying to kill Bruce, well, he still fights against Batman, but he doesn’t want him dead (the heroes think, the squad tries to kill them)
Some years pass (I have no idea, what happens in season 3 (Young Justice) since I didn’t have the time to watch it) the miraculous slowly become balanced again and the team is doing great
Until Talia snitches Bruce (bc she’s a little bitch) that Jason is alive. Not only that, he’s a part of the squad. Ra’s personally tries to kill his daughter- bc no Talia! You can’t just go and tell secrets! (silently crusing in many languages about the balance and how his own daughter betrayes him) He’s so angry, that he disowns his daughter and claims 7 year old Damian as his heir.
Bruce tries to hunt Jason down, but no success
Marinette takes Damian under her wing and gives him the miraculous of the tiger (Damian is so proud, that he’s a true holder). She and Jason become somewhat his parents, just like the rest of the team
Alix and Kim are totally together, as well Cloé and Kagami, while Luka has a on/off relationship with Lady Shiva, who is the true holder to the fox miraculous
Talia attacks the league, when Damian is 10 and takes him to his father
Damian hides the miraculous and Roarr, but Alfred knows. He always knows. (Totally cliche, but he’s the true holder to the peacock)
Damian acts like a brat like in canon, but can be such a softy
But only with his true family
Jason moves to Gotham, becomes the Red Hood, while Marinette becomes Scarlett (his partner)
The rest of the squad starts to recruit new holders and start to train them, often visited by Jason and Marinette
One tragic night, Batman fights against Red Hood, almost kills him, when Scarlett breaks his arm. Robin (Damian) comes to help, freezes, when he sees his family. He stops fighting, takes a deep breath and turns to his father.
Batman is confused, but then Robin says, that this is Jason, the second Robin and that he will not fight family
Batman lashes out, being an idiot, talking some nonsense about Jason being a criminal and suddenly Robin disapears. The big bat thinks, his kid went home
Well, he does, but not the Manor. He follows Jason and Marinette and sleeps a night there.
Then his father starts to search him (Damian) and finds him with Jason
Totally a fight there
Until Alfred comes and makes them to sit down and talk
Jason explains everything, telling Bruce, that the squad doesn’t exist anymore, bc of Talia.
He causally says, that Marinette is his girlfriend, that they somewhat adopted Damian, after Talia was banned.
Bruce tries to wrap his head around this, but slowly accept this new part of his family
It takes some time, but Jason (Red Hood) and Marinette (Scarlett) become a part of the Batfam
They lead the new Miraculous Team in secret, keep in contact with the inner circle of the light
This goes well, until Tim finds out.
Bruce lashes out again, bc what the fuck- his own child and his wife (they married) are spying for the light?! He tought they destroyes that damned organisation
Damian runs with them
They go to Nanda Parbat, where they meet the new recruits.
Now, every kwami has a true holder
Balance is perfect as it can be
Two years later, Bruce still tries to find Damian, in the hope, he isn’t with his older brother and his wife
He still is
Then Ra’s has enough of this drama, talks with the inner circle of the light and the kwamis
Kidnaps the batfam
Explains everything
Like everything
Slowly the batfam understands
Bruce is so proud that two of his sons are true holders, one of them literally can control chaos
The batfam starts to help the inner circle of the light, the other members think, this heroes finally saw the light
I can totally see the lesser memebers dumbfounded faces, when the whole Batfam shows up
Vendal starts to explain
“Batman was trained under Ra’s al Ghul himself, Batwoman followed.”
“Nightwing was trained by Deathstroke.”
“Red Hood was trained by Lady Shiva, Deathstroke and Ra��s al Ghul and is a former member of the squad.”
“Scarlett was trained by myself, Ra’s al Ghul, Lady Shiva, Deathstroke and Batman. She was the leader of the squad.”
“Red Robin was trained, like all the other Robins, by Batman. Lady Shiva took him under his wing for some time.”
“Signal was trained by Batman, Red Hood and Scarlett.”
“Batgirl was trained under Batman, Nightwing and Scarlett.”
“Black Bat grew up in the League and is the daughter of Lady Shiva.”
“Robin is my grandson and the son of Batman. He was trained under Scarlett and Red Hood, when they still were in the squad.”
(Did I forget someone?)
Gaping villians
But when Vendal says, that Batman will be part of the inner circle, as well Red Hood and Scarlett. they loose their absolute shit.
They fought the whole time with their allies??
Vendal then also says, that this will be the last meeting and they will all forget, that the Batfam is a part of the light
“Well... we can’t take risks, can’t we? We don’t want to repeat an incident with the Young Justice again... because of this, only the members of the inner circle will remember our prupose and the light itself.”
Batman then says to the JL, that he will leave the League, since this is going nowhere
The Batfamily is now officially a hero group and more loved than the JL, bc they don’t destroy much in their fights and if they do, Bruce Wayne pays. They keep in the shadows, which means, no civilians hurt AND many villians retire, when they hear, that Batman will fully remain in Gotham. They don’t try anything, bc he always seems to know
Okay... this is much more, than I acutally wanted to write and in the end, it didn’t came out as I first thought. But I hope you still like it, bc I like this version better
And it’s in the middle of the night, so if there are any mistakes... I don’t care :)
Masterlist
#headcanons#miraculous#dc#jasonette#i'm not patient enough to tag everything#justhugefangirl writes {🥀}#justhugefangirl creates {🌹}
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hey we haven’t heard anything from you in a while. everything good? How’s life treating you? All my love for one of my favorite batfam writers!💗💗💗
Hi babe.
Ah sorry, I’ve been super busy at work and with kiddo :( I mean, I’m still writing when I can, but it’s just time and motivation. My project has really taken off (reads as: expanded) and most nights I’m chipping away at the massive amount of documentation for not only a Java-based framework, but an entire Platform *sob* So, it’s just such a huge amount of old articles and brainstorming sessions and meeting minutes and just ugh. I mean, it’s kind of interesting to try tracking all these things down and figuring out how they’re going to work together since the developers (from 12 to 50-ish, my God and now they want me to read markdown and do pull requests for comments and shit because this is my fucking life) are still working on the platform services, the development environment, and all these fucking tools I’ve never heard of (Kubernetes, wtf is this thing??) so I’m learning a foreign language almost tbh.
Did I mention *sigh*?
ANYWAY, also some of the things I’m working on that are like Batfam are a little more...I dunno, just things that a bit harder for me I guess, but even if I write just a sentence or two, I still count it as a win.
But like...I said something about a Sentinel / Guide Au, and even though I’m at what would be a good stopping point, I’m not very happy with it :/ So, if you’d like to see kind of what I’ve been doing, I’m going to throw down what I’ve got below the cut.
Warnings:
DickTim, Angst
Sentinel/Guide Au
**
After he brings B back from time, send the Dark Knight back to Gotham, he gives in to things long overdue, and trains with Shiva–
–to be an effective Guide.
Years of suppressants made it literally hell without them, trying to keep his shields up, trying to push out the telepathic traffic suffocating him the second he opens up just a crack.
Shiva, of course, had been her cheerfully murderous self, plying him with the full onslaught of a powerful Sentinel.
"You will be drawn to us from now on, Little Bird. You will want to protect us, bring us back from the abyss. If you choose to allow your powers as a Guide rein free, then you must learn to fight against the urges."
The fucked-up part is–
–she's right.
If he wants to stay in the life, wear the cape and cowl under the new name, go back to the Titans (since they've been looking for him again, fly-bys and searches for his tech), then he needs to learn how to deal with what he can do and how to deal with the instincts that come along for the ride.
It's not enough that Shiva is in the middle of hunting down a few former students ("They have made...the wrong choices."
"That's rich coming from you, you know."
"We all have a code, Little Bird, and I am no different.")
but they managed to run into a few other Sentinels along the way.
He'd like to say he'd taken his ass beating like a pro at this juncture in the vigilante game, but the reality is, they'd had to take shelter in a shitty lean-to, so he could be tragically, metaphysically hung-over.
He gives up the cowl and suit, utility belt and sundries. He goes as a wrecked teenage American boy, changing it up from the last time he trekked behind Lady Shiva and took on her adversaries. He tries not to think about Dick or Jason, Dami or Alfred, tries not to think about the confused look on B's face in his safe house, drying his hair after a long shower, trying to readjust to the current timeline.
("You aren't going back to Gotham?"
"I still have things to do."
"...there's something you aren't telling me."
"There's a lot I'm not telling you."
"Come to me when you're ready, Tim. No matter what, you're always going to be one of my Robins.")
Instead, he learns how to keep himself, and the Sentinels around him, safe and sane while trying to stay two steps ahead of the next fight, the next clue, the next "training."
In Shanghai a few months later, he knows it's time to move on when people part ways for the brightly clad superheroes coming en-masse down the packed street for him.
Well, moving on it is.
Going back to the Tower, away from the Bats and Gotham and the Rogue Gallery (thinking about facing the Joker this raw and open is fucking terrifying), was the best he was going to get considering the circumstances.
Those circumstances being the pointed twitch over Kon's eye and Bart's very intense gaze.
"You were supposed to call, asshole. The OG Batman has been back in Gotham for like months and you've just been, you know, chilling with Lady Shiva?"
Tim, who is so out of bullshit at this juncture, feels better after a hot shower and some old sweats with a Superboy t-shirt, throws up his fucking hands.
"All right, fine. I never told anyone. I...I've been on suppressants since I was a kid, just like my mom. Guides..."
"It's not that bad anymore!" Cassie tries helplessly, the first to actually reach across the table for his hand.
The instant connection makes them both gasp. It’s a shallow one, just a dip under her natural shield (he knows it’s Cissy, the Guide that’s been helping her until now, bringing her back whenever she hits a Zone, recognizes the touch of their Arrowette), just a skim over her immediate emotions this thing now untried and how utterly calm he makes her just by hands lightly placed.
"O-ooh," is soft while his fingers tighten, his eyes sharpen, his shields constructing around her, his instinct to protect.
"Not necessary," Gar chimes in, still leaning against the door between the kitchen and communal entertainment room, "we're all good in the Tower, T."
Is what shakes him out of it, hastily pulling away from Cassie's hand.
"Wow." Wonder Girl breathes out, eyes soft and half-mast, looking at him dreamily.
"Nope." Because he can already feel the headache coming on, how her hand tries to grab back at his.
“We could fight better together, Tim!”
“Do you even know how strong a Guide has to be to take care of four Sentinels?”
In one terribly creepy singular move, Bart, Kon, Gar, and Cassie give him that look.
You know, aimed at his face.
"No one," Bart cuts in, eyes wide at the exchange, of Tim's aura warm and inviting suddenly stronger, reaching out... "Tim, T. No one has to know."
The flash of fear, a residual from the tunic, makes him hedge back a subtle step back.
Kon pointedly grips him by the bicep, over his shirt while Bart moves enough that his shoulder bumps into Tim’s ribs, halting the possible escape attempt.
“Okay, okay, backing off. New powers are about a bitch, not like we all haven’t been there once or twice.” Kon soothes over, taking small steps and tugging until Tim is moving with him closer to the communal kitchen where his seat is empty at the island, and they can possibly get proof the guy actually eats.
“Amen,” Cassie throws up a hand and is already digging through the fridge until she finds–
–the last grape Zesti.
Tim’s eyes narrow dangerously on that singular can, his body moving before his brain can take over because he’s sliding on his old chair, the can cold against his fingers, too thirsty for caffeine that he can’t even.
Sure, it’s a trap, but with these guys, at least he knows it.
“I’m very not ready to do anything remotely Guide-like in the field,” the soft ca-saaaa as the can opens. “You want me to sleuth, fight, and strategize, then I’m all for it.”
Bart is just suddenly in Kon’s usual seat beside him, spinning around in tight, fast circles, “you mean you’re thinking about coming back? To the life?”
“Dude, that would be stellar.”
Tim side-eyes his besties, “it was never in the plan to-to stop.”
“Can’t blame us for assuming, you know,” Gar grins toothily, “no Red Robin for a while, my dude.”
Tim goes quiet, staring down at the can between his hands, shoulders hunched over.
“At least,” Raven’s voice is smooth and soft, comforting, “tell us why now, Tim?”
“Why now?”
“Why begin training as a Guide now?” She clarifies, sliding into the seat across from her, and the coolness of her aura, not a Sentinel, but something purely Raven puts his frayed nerves at ease, makes it easier for him to find the words.
“I turned 18,” and he can’t look at them while he admits to it, “and...and I figured out who my Sentinel is after Ra’s kicked me out the window.” (I was fine going out that way. It was fine. I was saving Wayne Enterprises from the League of Assassins, I was fighting the good fight. It shouldn’t have happened that way...why did it have to happen that way?)
“Oh,” and Cassie’s eyes get huge.
“Ra’s al Ghul is your Sentinel?!” Bart fairly screams.
“No dude,” Tim rolls his eyes and finds his can suddenly fascinating. “It’s...Dick. He’s...yeah. It’s him.”
“I didn’t hear that,” Kon hurries, standing shock-still, “I didn’t hear any of that.”
“Not him,” Bart is gritting his teeth because dammit, why couldn’t Tim have been his Guide? The universe was totally, wholly unfair.
A muscle in Tim’s jaw flexes, his nose pinkening along his upper cheekbones. He blinks watery eyes, takes a deep, deep breath to try and keep himself under control.
“Yeah,” and Tim sighs a little, the ache in his chest more acutely painful when he thinks about that moment waking up in the Cave, Dick in the Batsuit without the cape/cowl combo smiling down at him, still painfully unaware of the connection drawn tight between them.
(He doesn’t need me. He’s got Babs and Dami. His Guide and his Robin.)
Getting the absolute fuck out of the Manor had been his first order of business once he’d come to, just sprouting whatever placating bullshit Dick needed to hear to let him go without much of a fight (this time).
Finding Bruce and staying the hell out of Gotham hadn’t helped the pull he inexplicably felt, or the pressure of minds around him that had sent him to Shiva in the first damn place. His Guide abilities were overcoming the suppressants, so he was out of time...and out of options.
Still, even with the training, he occasionally has the dreams at night. Not the usual array of awful nightmares from his real life, Jason shooting him in the chest at point-blank to make sure the job gets done this time, Bruce dying right before his eyes, turning into that skeleton husk Superman brought to them thinking it was the real thing, Damian sneering at him with the katana held high, spitting out how it’s time the real Robin took his rightful place just before bringing the blade down–
No, no, it’s even worse than those.
It’s shadowy hands touching him, the warm wet of a mouth over his skin and scars, gentle voice in his ear telling him how beautiful he is, how much he’s needed, wanted, how it’s not just because of what he is or what tunic he used to wear, it’s all because he’s Tim. He doesn’t wake up when his dream self realizes it’s Dick over him, those blue eyes taking him in, pinning his wrists down to look over every inch of his naked body. He doesn’t wake up when Dick starts preparing him. He doesn’t wake up when Dick kisses him hard and desperate. He doesn’t wake up when the tears dry on his face and their bodies line up.
“Mine,” his dream Sentinel doesn’t even hesitate, “Don’t ever run from me again. Do you understand me, Tim?”
Just before Dick pushes, he wakes up, panting and hard, his instincts going crazy enough that he has to meditate to calm down.
Cassie gently wraps her hand around his shoulder, making sure they don’t have skin-to-skin contact this time. “I’m sorry,” she smiles gently at his frown, “I know you and Dick have had some...issues in the past few years.” But he can read the guilt in her face. Back when everyone thought Bruce was dead and his cape had been yanked out from under him, Dick had sent Cassie to try talking some “sense” into him. She still feels awful for jumping on the same train everyone else had been riding, the ‘that guy is suffering from depression’ instead of believing he might actually be right.
(It still stings though, doesn’t it?)
He doesn’t say anything back, just looks out one of the big windows and pulls out of her hold to take a drink of his Zesti.
“But,” Gar quickly jumps in, “you’ll stay in the Tower and fight on the team again, right? Like, no more trips with World’s Deadliest Assassins?”
Tim visibly hesitates, pausing with the can up to his mouth.
Slowly, he lowers it, his eyes taking on a cold calculation that is and isn’t like their old Rob. “Like I said, I can’t be a Guide for anyone, and I mean that. Second, I told you the truth in confidence, so I expect everyone to keep my secret. Third, I’m not anywhere near ready to go to Gotham or face the Bats, so for now, I’m fighting under the radar. If those aren’t acceptable stipulations, I’ll grab some of my clothes from storage and be out of your Tower.”
“Storage?” Kon glances around at the team, “Tim, buddy, why do you think we’d have your stuff in storage?”
“I assumed Dick would already approach you about making Damian part of the team,” his tone is absolutely empty, emotionless. “And there’s no way both of us could be here at the same time, so...” he lets them put it together from there.
The look of utter devastation on Kon’s face makes him feel slightly better.
**
Coming back when Cassie, Bart, and Kon have his back, just like they were closer to the end of their YJ run, makes the transition easier than it realistically should have been.
And it really might just be how low the dose of suppressants are now, or that he feels comfortable stepping into Robin’s role on the team, just with a different name, a different mask. It might just be how Bart has a tendency to hover with that hummingbird energy coming off him even when he’s seemingly standing still, maybe it’s Kon’s TTK pressing at his back even if the guy is across the room, maybe it’s how he and Cassie have leadership meetings where they just binge watch reruns of Gossip Girl and eat ice cream to bemoan their woes.
But maybe, it’s how he can feel them pulling at his shields unconsciously. Maybe it’s how he can sometimes push back enough, can skim just the edges to get impressions of angry, sad, depressed and gently erect a mental shield without delving deep without permission, can give them the space they need from their intense senses and powers.
Just another way he can be the regular guy on the team, working under the radar. So much a part of his role in the first damn place.
He doesn’t realize it becomes something normal until they take the good fight a little too close to Gotham for his liking, but the choices were few and Luthor is such an incredible ass hat that Tim actually plays it down, dresses up as CEO Tim Drake to divert their baddie while the team takes apart his latest weapon of mass destruction on the down-low.
What he absolutely doesn’t expect is to leave the lobby of one of the most posh restaurants in Metropolis–
And walk face-first into Dick Gryson’s chest.
(Technically, it’s Nightwing, but really, this doesn’t make the sitch any better.)
A hand, black with blue fingerstripes, covers his mouth, and the sound of a grapple retracting is a pending oh no that he doesn’t fight the vigilante pretty much kidnapping him off the street in broad daylight.
He can only thank God it isn’t skin-to-skin contact because his inner senses are flaring this close to the Sentinel, his Sentinel, that he has to grind his back teeth to keep himself in check. He pulls away the second they land it on solid rooftop, shoving his sleeve back to check the team’s status on his hidden wrist computer.
Mission success!
“Imagine my surprise,” Nightwing growls, hand on his shoulder to spin him around, “when I find you having lunch with someone like Lex Luthor instead of taking my damn calls, Timmy.”
Stepping out of that hold is subtle because Tim is looking over the side of the roof, adjusting his tie to try putting some distance between them. “I’m undercover. Those are the things people like us do when we’re running an Op, Nightwing.”
Those whiteouts narrow on him, a trick only Dick can really pull off effectively. “None of that tells me where the hell you’ve been for the last year since you left to find Bruce, found him, and didn’t come back.”
His back straightens, eyes looking away when the irritation and heat of anger hits him harder without the nice little cocktail of suppressants and stabilizers, makes his own shields tremble at the burning sear along the edges of his consciousness.
Instead of saying something he might come to regret, Tim sucks in a breath through his nose and works through the bolt of pain, gathers his shields around himself to keep the Sentinel from unerringly lashing out at him again.
“What the hell are you even doing here? Recon on Luthor? For which nefarious plot?”
A black and blue hand slashes the space between them, “not even important, Tim. So, how about you call your team and tell them you’ve got some Bat business because we? Need to talk.”
“I’m sorry, what now?”
“You heard me. I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for weeks.”
“I sent back your case files, asshole–”
“Not about cape and cowl shit, Tim!”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now,” even though he does, he really does. He just doesn’t know why it has to happen now.
Nightwing, however, has had enough of the talk and with a whip of his arm has a bolo out and thrown, his natural speed as a Sentinel might be slower than someone like the Flash, but it still has Tim wrapped up tight faster than he can realistically dodge.
The sight of the vigilante Nightwing swinging through Metropolis with the CEO of Wayne Enterprises over one shoulder would be big news in the city if anyone had been bothered to really look up.
**
The hotel is nice Tim thinks while wiggling around on the bed where Dick pretty much dumped him. His fingers are already getting the bolo loose from around his upper body by the time Dick has the mask off and the Nightwing suit unzipped to flop around his waist.
The Gotham Knights t-shirt underneath is a new one since the old faded one got blown up in that little explosion in the ‘Haven a few years back.
Dick lifts and sets a chair down with a pointed clack, sitting down to watch Tim squirm his way up. He’s got the bolo loose enough to brace his palms.
“What part of I’m in the middle of an OP–”
“Don’t care,” Dick cuts him off ruthlessly, those blue eyes hard and jaw tense. “I honestly don’t give a crap about the Titans right now.”
“Well I sure as hell do thank-you very much,” Tim pulls the bolo off, tosses it across the room with an angry flick, facing his former mentor, former partner, former friend with those old feelings creeping up his throat to make the taste in his mouth coppery and bitter.
“The only thing I care about right now is that I finally caught up to you. The last time I even saw you was that swan dive–”
“I’m aware. Being kicked out of a window is pretty memorable, even for people like us,” he keeps it deadpan, keeps the anger and irritation, the feelings of shit like betrayal and it must have been so easy to throw me the fuck away.
“The point is, smart ass, you left the Cave and haven’t been back. You only answer my emails about cases and bad guys. But when I ask you to come back home, which I have, Tim, I don’t even know how many times, and I get nothing! We need you–”
“Why would I come back to Gotham for you?” Is what spills out of his mouth, something bitter and foul. “You’ve already got a fucking Robin to be your little brother, remember?”
Welp, there goes playing it cool.
But watching Dick jerk back like Tim had landed a physical blow was more satisfying than he wanted to admit.
“Are you kidding me right now? You’re still angry about that? I’ve explained to you exactly why–”
The irritation in Dick’s tone, obvious disgust when he leans back and crosses his arms over his chest is just about enough.
“You explained it just fine. You made your choice, so everyone just has to deal with it, right? Yeah, that’s really being my equal.”
Tim makes himself stay deadly calm and cold, moves his legs away from Dick’s to stand and take a few steps away from the seething Sentinel to adjust his tie and try to get his hands to quit trembling.
“I can’t believe you’re acting this childish, Tim. I’m really disappointed with you right now.”
“Glad we’re on the same page, Dick, disappointed in each other,” but it strikes him anyway in the small, sad place where he held on to the hope they could still work everything out somehow and at least go back to being friends. A small part that’s been slowly dying in degrees, and that last hit is enough to make it so absurdly painful.
(All those years in the R, fighting the good fight, being brothers, having each other’s backs, and it all ends here, doesn’t it?)
“What? I did everything I could do for you! I–”
“If that’s what you want to believe, then that’s fine. I don’t have any reasons to argue with you,” staring at his own reflection in the mirror, seeing the red start to creep over his cheeks, his eyes get overly shiny, Tim Drake straightens his spine and flexes his own shields.
He keeps himself together enough to turn on a heel and walk calmly to the door.
“Tim, just...okay, just wait. Let’s talk this out–”
He doesn’t even turn, hand already on the knob, just pulls open the door and takes a hasty step through. It’s only the first step, but Dick is still just suddenly there, trying to snatch at Tim’s wrist with a bare hand, managing the brush of fingertips over a pulse.
“Don’t leave like this,” Is the last thing Dick says before the electric shock slides up his spine, the pull to all his senses almost has him on his knees.
The touch has Tim lurching away, jerking his wrist up to cradle against his chest, the red burn of Dick’s emotions beating at his shields harder with just a simple graze.
It ends with Dick still in the doorway, braced against the frame, gaping, and Tim leaning heavily into the wall across the hall, a wince on his face.
Stupid metaphysical connections and shit.
The touch hadn’t been enough to, you know, like bond them or anything, but it’s widely believed True Pairs didn’t even have to touch to get impressions from one another.
“You asshole,” he seethes at that shocked expression.
“You feel like I betrayed you,” is low and thick, Dick’s eyes a little dazed with what he picked up through the momentary connection, “it hurt you so much when I made Dami my Robin because I didn’t even talk to you, I didn’t trust you. You think I just threw you out of my life. How could I ever do that to you...?”
If Tim was a better Guide, on a higher dose of suppressants, he would have been able to keep himself closed off enough that if they did manage to touch, he could have kept Dick out of his shields, wouldn’t have given him the ability to skim over shitty emotions.
If Tim was a better Guide, he wouldn’t have the urgent need to run.
But welp, here they are.
As the thought takes shape in his brain pan, that he’s in his civilian day-ware and can run down the hall while Dick –still half in Nightwing– is trapped in the doorway, his knees firm and his eyes dart wildly to the side, giving himself away.
And since Dick was Batman, is Nightwing, is a Sentinel, he sees the writing on the wall and absolutely refuses to let it happen. Dick shoves with his arms, darts out into the hallway, makes his suddenly weak knees work enough to shake up Tim’s plan, seizes the apparent Guide, his Guide, in a princess hold and get back before the door even starts to close.
“Put me–!”
But Dick folds his legs to sit with his back against the door, and wraps both arms around the struggling third Robin. He can hold onto Tim better than a bolo anyway.
The push at Tim’s shields is a pressure he isn’t used to dealing with, and it’s painful to fight against it rather than just let the tentative connection open. His hands curl into fists in his lap, trying to strain against the arms pinning him while concentrating on strengthening his shields.
He doesn’t realize he’s whispering, “no, no, no,” under his breath.
“Please,” Dick lays his forehead down on top of Timmy’s head, “please don’t go. Not now. I’m finally...Tim, I get it now. I swear, I get it.”
“...doesn’t matter. Too late.”
“That isn’t fair,” the smallest shift and Dick is breathing against his throat, making him shiver, “I just found out you’re...a Guide. My Guide. We haven’t even started yet. It can’t be too late if we haven’t had a beginning.” It gets worse when Dick breathes in his scent deeply, a noise coming out of his chest.
“We have had a beginning,” he bites out, fists tight, concentrating on keeping his shields strong but flexible, “we’ve had years–”
“And I’m not ready to throw all of that away.”
The pressure against his mental shields finally eases up as Dick raises his head, gives him a little shake to make him look up.
“You already did, remember?”
“I didn’t... I never threw you away. That’s not what I meant or wanted. Yes, I should have handled things better. I know that now, and I’m sorry I hurt you. I was sorry before, I just didn’t know how to tell you, how to make it better between us.”
Tim’s eyes narrow, and he doesn’t let up in case this is one of those diversionary tactics to put him in a false sense of security.
(They fight bad guys. Sometimes, they have to cheat, and he wouldn’t put it past Dick to do just that.)
“I don’t know what you think is going to happen here,” he finally tries, staring up into those blue, blue eyes (I trusted you once, and fuck if I’m going to let you do this to me again). “But whatever it is, you’re wrong. I’m not going to come back to Gotham and be your Guide. I’m not going to bond with you because the universe says I’m meant to be some kind of magical counterbalance.”
Dick’s expression crumples, his arms go a little slack.
“Tim, we’re...we’re a True–”
“I don’t give a fuck about True Pairs, Dick, not anymore. Babs has been your Guide since you both presented. She wants the job, she can damn well have it.”
It’s not a fight to push against Dick’s arms the second time and stand up out of his lap.
“You’ve loved me since the moment you put on the cape, Tim. I know you have.” When what he means is I know now.
“I loved you before that, you asshole, and you betrayed me. You don’t get that chance again.”
Turning away shouldn’t be this easy now that Dick knows the truth, but it is, and the very last parts of him still hoping, still craving, are just as easily–
–wiped out.
Dick’s eyes are watery when the door hisses and creaks upon opening, and it’s an automatic thing, reaching a hand up just expecting Tim to take it.
“Tim. Timmy, please.”
“Good-bye, Dick,” is already fading with rapidly retreating footsteps. At least he can keep some of his dignity because Dick will never know he falls the fuck apart as the elevator goes down.
**
Author’s notes:Here’s why I don’t like this: 1. I want to talk more about why Tim chose Shiva as the Sentinel to teach him how to be a good Guide. Like, I want to explore that dynamic more because I’ve never really had the time or space to write Shiva as we see her in Tim’s Robin run.2. I wanted to go more into the expanded senses of Sentinels and how to - hell, I dunno, make it seem to be a little closer to cannon maybe? Like point out some of Dick’s greatest escapes and be like part of that is due to his Sentinel power. 3. Dick says some shitty things, and I don’t give him any context. Like, at that point, he legit believes he did the right thing at the time, and look! Tim’s Red Robin so everyone wins! But yeah, once he got under those shields, the truth shakes him up. 4. I dunno, this au might not be for me. It doesn’t feel very different from some of my other angsty things I guess but meh. Who knows, I might fix it someday :D
#winter answers#with angst#and frustration#sentinel!au#Tim Drake#Dick Grayson#the titans!#my fics#my writing
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Danny makes the Lazarus pit his home
So after afew centuries all of dannys family is dead and in the ghost zone, he's an ancient of space and time(curtsey of clockwork) and bored as hell
He decided to go on a trip exploring all the portals and just mess around for a few years now that he doesn't have anything important to do
One day he stumbles upon a weird by-product of ectoplasm (Lazarus water is similar to ectoplasm but it has different properties due to human meddling, it's not currupted per'se but it is more dangerous for humans)
He sees weird humans in through the Lazarus water and decides to go through, and since danny is the first ghost to come across it the Lazarus pit fused to him and is kind of like him minion now and a part of himself
And so danny is now fused to the Lazarus pit but not bound to it, and all these people are interesting to he'll stay for a bit
The league of assasins find him and are confused and more than slightly terrified, their just glad it seems friendly.
.
.
.
Ra al Ghul was and Talia al Ghul were going over the latese plan when one of the guards in charge of the Lazarus pit comes running in and telling them something happened
They follow him down to the pit and see...something in the pit
It was wrapped around itself and laying at the bottom of the pit, it looked black and white and they couldn't see any defining features
Just as they were discussing about what to do, the creature moved, it unwrapped and moved forward up to the surface of the Lazarus pit, it let up the top of it's head first and showed off its glowing Lazarus eyes and flowing white hair
It creature looked at everyone in the room before it rose to where it was half submerged in the pit
It looked around before it's eyes landed on Ra al ghul, it tilted its head again before it leaned forward in the land surounding the pit and rested its arms on the edges, it opened its mouth showing hundreds of needle thin teeth and a black tongue and mouth with white lights on it, as it it were mimicking the stars
"So...your the one who uses this"
The voice sounded young but had an eco to it, the creature sounds curious rather than malicious and its body language showed it wasn't looking for a fight
"Yes, i use the Lazarus pit now i want to know what you are and what are you doing ln it"
Ra responded to the creatures earlies statement, the creature looked a little starteled but not angry
"Hmmm... thats tricky. Im not really doing anything, mostly just cheaking in, y'know. As for what i am..."
The creature paused and looked at talia, and she couldn't help but freeze, it looked like it was looking through her very soul and searching for something, before it turned back to Ra al ghul
And it smiled...one full of teeth but not promising pain
"You may call me phantom"
#danny phantom#fic prompt#daily prompt#danny fenton#dc x dp#dp x dc#dc#lazarus pit#ra al ghul#talia al ghul#eldritch danny#Lazarus pit danny#dannys in the Lazarus pit#the LOA are terrified of him at first
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Swords and Birds
a/n: First request done! I’m so sorry this took forever but I kept on erasing and rewriting it. And I also don’t know how to write fight scenes soooo… yeah, but I’m learnin. Anyway, comments are welcomed!
v/n - Vigilante Name
Warning: language
v/n sighed as they paced the dark halls of Nanda Parbat. They had been summoned by Ra’s al Ghul to discuss a mission. And they were nervous. v/n wasn’t the best trainee in the place. As a matter of fact they were the worst, but they managed. They never had the guts to kill their victims and they were always nice and compassionate. Which was considered a weakness. But, they excelled at their training. If it weren’t for their kindness and compassion they would be at the top of the class surpassing the demon’s grandson.
v/n stopped pacing when one of Ra’s servants called out for them. They strengthened their uniform and weapons and walked into the room. Once they reached him, they bowed and got on one knee, “You summoned me, sir.”
Ra’s signaled for v/n to stand up and follow him. He walked towards a balcony and stared at the sky. “I’ve been informed that you are having trouble completing missions. Is that true?” He asked.
“It’s… it’s true, sir,” They gulped.
Ra’s turned to face them. He looked at them as they tried to avoid as his gaze. He walked towards them, lifted their chin and stared deeply into their soul. After a bit, he moved away from v/n and walked towards his desk.
“I need you for a mission that you mustn’t tell anyone else. Understood?” He said taking out an envelope.
“Understood, sir.” v/n said straighten their posture.
“I need you to find my grandson and heir to the League, Damian, and give him this envelope.” He walked towards v/n with the envelope in hand and handed it to them, “You will leave tonight. Pack your items and go to Gotham City. You will find him at Wayne Manor.”
“Yes, sir.” v/n said as they bowed and left the room.
Once inside the hall v/n ran to their quarters and got the items necessary for the trip. Weapons, clothing, a first-aid kit. Everything they thought would be necessary. After making sure everything was in their duffel bag they made their way to the League’s helipad with two other assassins that Ra’s put as an escort. They got in the helicopter and made their way to Gotham City.
——Timeskip to Gotham——-
Once they arrived at Gotham, v/n and the other two assassins made their way to one of the League’s safehouses and ditched their belongings (Besides their weapons). After planning how they were to deliver the letter to Damian they left for Wayne Manor using the cover of darkness. v/n disabled the alarms placed around the perimeter of the home and sneaked in through the second-floor balcony. Just as they were about to close the balcony door they got attacked by a four foot nine inches tall killer cinnamon roll.
v/n took out their sword and returned the attacks. Luckily, Damian was the only one home. The butler, Alfred, was in England taking care of a family problem, and Damian brother’s and father were out patrolling the city. Damian and v/n clashed swords as he tried to get answers. “Who are you and what are you doing here?!?!” He demanded.
“I’m a mere messenger,” v/n said dodging his attacks, “Now stop trying to kill me so we can talk like civilized humans.“
Damian lowered his sword and glared at v/n. How can a kid that small have a terrifying glare? They thought as they also lowered their sword. v/n slowly made their way towards Damian and stopped a foot in front of him. They got out the envelope Ra’s gave them and looked at it before handing it the kid.
“Your grandfather ordered me to give this to you,” v/n said.
“What’s in it?” Damian asked as he carefully studied it.
v/n looked at the envelope then at Damian and shrugged, “No clue.”
Damian opened the envelope and studied its contents. Inside was a letter detailing everything that would happen if he didn’t return to his rightful place. After Damian finished reading the letter he ripped it into pieces and looked at the assassin in front of him. This assassin was different. They looked extremely harmless and clueless.
He looked up at the assassin and said, “I need you to go back to Nanda Parbat and tell my grandfather that I’m not going to return.”
“Yes sir,” v/n said hesitantly. So that’s why Ra’s didn’t want anyone knowing. If she failed she would be executed. Fuck. They turned to leave the same way the came in through before Damian stopped them.
“Make sure that after you tell my grandfather that I’m not going to return… that you disappear.”
“Excuse me?” v/n asked the teen confused.
“You have lots of talent, and I would really hate seeing it get thrown away. Start a new life somewhere where the League can’t find you,” Damian advised.
The assassin nodded and opened the porch door, “Until next time Robin.” They said as the ran off the porch. Damian walked towards the door and closed it knowing it wouldn’t be long before they would meet again under different circumstances.
Bonus!
v/n walked up to Ra al Ghul and stood in their spot hand on their sword. Ra looked at the assassin, surprised by their action.
“Did you complete the mission?” Ra’s asked.
“I delivered the envelope, and I also have a response,” v/n said confidently.
Ra’s walked towards the assassin, “And what is my grandson’s response?”
“Robin said that he has no plan on returning and that Mara, his cousin, should be appointed as heir.”
Ra’s looked at the assassin shocked by their words. Appoint Mara as heir of the League? The girl could barely lead the Demon’s Fist. What made Damian think that Mara was capable of leading?
He turned away from the assassin and said, “You have failed the mission. Guards, get rid of them.”
v/n quickly pulled out their sword and blocked the attacks of the guards. At this rate they were going to die. More guards came into the to escort Ra’s out. v/n managed to hold the guards off as the made their way to a window. The guards surrounded v/n as they lowered their sword. They looked out the window and saw that they were on the edge of a cliff. They turned to look at the assassins in front of them and contemplated how much they hated their life right now.
As the assassins made a move against v/n, they threw themselves out the window. Shattering the glass into millions of pieces. The assassin’s stared at their formal ally as they chose to jump to their honorless death.
v/n started cursing under their breath when they realized the stupid ass mistake they made by jumping out the damn window. Now they were free falling and about to belly flop in a freezing cold sea when a big red furry creature showed up and caught them.
“What the fuck…” Was what v/n managed to get out before that same creature dropped them face first into the ground. They got up and looked up at the sky and saw a small green, red and yellow figure waving at them from afar. v/n waved back at the figure as she pushed herself off the ground. Once Robin was out of sight, v/n made her way towards civilization to start a new assassinless life.
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3.4k Damian Wayne-Centric fic. If you like most of my works, you’ll like this one. The conceits are wild.
“Nice of you to visit.” Dick takes in the five o’ clock shadow and ghost in his living room.
Damian is a ghost, after all. The boy floats around, rarely speaking unless you spark his interest, haunting people he enjoys, whispering in the dark, forever broken, wholly untouchable, pale as snow.
He pulls the boy into a light hug as if any tighter would make Damian break. The boy is-- at least in Dick’s mind-- frail in a metaphorical sense that can’t be ignored. “Are you staying for dinner?” He knows Damian rarely eats, and when he does, it’s usually a soup of sorts he carries in a thermos.
A nod as arms snake around Dick’s waist. He eats for Dick if it’s dinner time, or if he’s particularly tired. It seems like such a day where both have graced them.
“What’re you hungry for?”
“I have soup,” Damian answers, voice muffled by Dick’s BPD issued windbreaker.
“What kind?”
“Chicken. Did you want any?”
“Nah. Think I’ll have something with a little more sustenance.”
“Cereal, I presume.”
“Yeah.” Dick releases the boy, brushing a kiss on his forehead as he does. “Tag along on patrol tonight?”
“I suppose.”
…
Tim loves Damian. The kid’s his best friend (and more), his brother (and more). One thing Damian isn’t, though, is calm.
He tricks people with the indifferently-lined mouth and half-lidded eyes, but Damian is anything but calm. He counts everything. He twitches and ticks according to patterns in a room. He holds a knife in his sleeve to throw at any given moment,
But he’s floaty. The boy floats like a ghost, pale and foreboding.
Tim think this is why everyone finds him calm and frail, even though the boy is anything but.
It worries him, too, how only Bruce and him can even tell there’s something off about Damian that can’t be fixed, ignored, or turned on.
Kid’s a psycho, and that’s Tim putting it nicely.
Of course, it’s not pertinent in most cases. In this one, though, it is.
“Wait,” Jason says evenly, inspecting the expanse of ashes that used to be a warehouse that kept roughly 500 men a night. “Where’s the…” He turns to Damian then Tim.
Damian’s right at Tim’s side, which he often does when Tim’s around, gently pulling at Tim’s sleeve.
“How’d you evacuate?”
He didn’t. Tim checks his gauntlet. 8:57pm. It’s early. He pulls a crisp twenty dollar bill from his belt, hands it to Damian. “Arcade’s still open,” he tells the boy gently. Because no matter how off Damian is, he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t refuse learning it. The blocks just don’t stack.
The boy takes the bill. He squeezes Tim’s hand before leaving.
Jason’s still staring at the empty space in awe. “B’s gonna kill him.”
“Is he?” Tim asks, disinterested.
“Maybe he should go lie low with ‘Wing for a few days.”
“He stays.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
Scared he’s gonna beat Damian like he beat you? Tim wants to say it. Tim wants to say a lot of things.
…
Something’s wrong with Damian.
Bruce doesn’t know what, but the boy’s an unknown variable that his gut tells him to account for (the building the other night confirmed it).
So, he does such.
Tim usually leaves the boy to nap at the manor during patrol. Bruce has Cass cover his sector.
“Damian,” Bruce calls, knowing Damian never sleeps and will answer.
The boy comes out the darkness of the hallway and to Bruce’s side.
“Alfred’s made French Onion Soup. Would you like some?”
Bruce doesn’t know when Damian went off solids, but it will work to his advantage.
“Does it have cheese in it?” Damian queries, voice low.
“Do you want cheese in it?”
“No.”
Bruce slides his bowl to the center of the desk.
Damian hands Bruce his thermos after pouring out whatever it held before.
He pours half the soup into Damian’s thermos before handing it back.
The boy nods a thank you before beginning to sip the still steaming liquid. He pauses, smile creeping onto the face. “I can assure you I’m plenty sedated.” He takes another sip.
“I have some paperwork to finish up,” Bruce lies.
Damian nods, finishing the soup with a few gulps before retreating to the sofa, presumably to nap again.
An unknown variable.
…
Everything’s wrong with Damian, but Dick doesn’t mind.
He’s seen the kid jump into fights headfirst, get stabbed and not shed a tear.
Yet, when the boy burns his hand making soup, he hides in one of Dick’s empty cabinets until he’s fished out after patrol, a shuddery mess on the brink of tears.
Dick tells himself he doesn’t mind, reminding the rational part of his brain that Damian’s not rational and can’t be expected to be. He hugs the boy gently and wraps the injured hand, goes out and buys soup and sandwiches from the deli around the corner, bewilders at the incongruently sedate boy before him who flinched at an odd breath a mere hour ago.
Damian’s eyes lid. His head lolls and leans against Dick’s arm. His burnt hand lies limp while the other slowly twitches at every scene change in the movie playing on the TV. His chest moves up and down, smooth as an undulating wave.
“Want your sandwich?” Dick asks, holding it out to Damian.
The boy airly sighs, and his eyes fall closed.
“Later then,” he tells himself. “Later.”
…
They search for the ghost in the night.
He has to be there.
Who better to haunt the aftermath?
Bruce squints.
He doesn’t think Damian would go with Ra’s. Dick’s sure, as is Jason, but the longer they wait, the more he thinks Dick’s wrong.
Damian’s allegiances have never been clear. The boy’s impulsive, more so than even Jason in his Robin days, and Bruce doesn’t know how to assess it. He’s never asked Tim either, figuring Damian is always on the teen’s side no matter the situation.
They need the location now. Assassins are on their trail. Ra’s will have them all killed if they don’t find shelter quickly.
Damian knows this,
So where is he?
Bruce checks his clock. Twenty seconds and Damian’s late.
Fifteen seconds later, a plane flies overhead and a ladder falls from it.
…
Jason knew Damian would come. The boy is the undependable kind of dependable that both excites and terrifies him.
The boy hums as Dick runs a finger up and down his arm, eyes their usual dazed appearance.
“Damian,” Bruce calls roughly.
“Hm?” the boy answers.
“Where’s it taking us?”
“Location,” Damian mumbles, gaze focusing. “Like you… Secure location to regroup. You said-- Did you want to go somewhere else?” Damian half-rushes to the console.
“Where?” Bruce asks again.
Damian still looks confused. “I don’t--”
“Country, province, et cetera,” Bruce snaps, typing in his gauntlet.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why?”
“Because it wouldn’t be secure otherwise.”
“Is it League owned?”
“No.”
Silence.
Damian rolls on the balls of his feet. Jason finds the boy is always unsettled by Bruce, bleeding the need for approval the man doesn’t give.
“Dami,” Dick calls. He waves the boy back.
Damian comes, sitting where he once was, though not as comfortable.
Bruce.
…
Bruce is debriefing. Bruce is boring.
Everyone knows this but Damian, who listens and nods along and answers every rhetorical question.
Dick wonders if he wants this. Does Damian want to be a hero? Does he want to ride the night clad with a Bat on his chest? Dick knows it was what he wanted at Damian’s age (before he knew better).
For Damian, vigilantism may be the right course. He’ll always be fighting. Better it be for the good guys, Dick figures.
He doesn’t think Bruce will ever give Damian the chance. Bruce uses Damian, and he will until he’s squeezed the last drop out, then he’ll drop him. Dick knows this. Maybe he should warn the boy.
…
Damian’s not a Bat. He’s always around the Bats, but he’s not one. He doesn’t wish he was a Bat either. There’re better things to be, an al Ghul one of them.
He thinks the Bats want him to be one, the majority of them anyway, but he knows it’s not his place. It can’t be one’s place, most importantly one who was dipped in death at birth.
He can’t be a Bat, not with voices ringing in his head and Ra’s-- for the first time in four months-- requesting his presence. He has to go.
“Damian?”
He stills behind the bed.
“Are you in here?” It’s Dick. Damian doesn’t mind Dick. He likes the young man as much as he’s allowed to like people (besides Tim). Blue eyes appear in the opening of the gap. He wonders for a moment if Dick plans on contorting himself to fit in the gap. Thankfully, he just smiles. “Hey.”
Damian never knows how to answer.
“Jay wants to know if there’s a Big Belly Burger around here.”
He can’t tell if Dick’s joking or not. There isn’t, but surely they know that. “The kitchen’s stocked,” he answers.
“Yeah. Alfred’s already making something. When’d he get here?”
“Tim secured his travel.”
“Where’s Tim?”
Off on business, of course, but Dick should know that as well.
“Mind keeping me company tonight?”
Damian’s fine on his own, but they always think he’ll break if he’s not with Tim, which hasn’t been the case since he was four. He enjoys Dick, though, and nods, accepting the offer.
Damian al Ghul’s not a Bat, but he doesn’t want to be one.
…
Abstract is all Damian paints. Everything is a line or a dot or a pattern. Nothing is of human form. Tim thinks Damian likes it better that way, but he’s no idea as to why. He sits by his artist with a plated sandwich cut in fours and potato chips, slips one of the latter in his mouth.
“Whatcha making?” he asks. Tim likes to have Damian talk. The boy doesn’t talk much, but he needs to because everyone should talk. Tim remembers the first year they met. Damian said a total of five words to him.
They’re close, but Damian doesn’t talk. If he talks to anyone, he talks to Tim (Dick if he’s in a talking mood). If he’s not in a talking mood, he talks to Tim if (and mostly only if) Tim bothers him enough (or he’s sad enough).
Damian’s sad today, but he’s almost always sad, and Tim never knows why. It’s his default. He wishes Damian would be happy. They’re still young, after all. Before meeting Damian, Tim always thought sad was for people like his parents, who were always grasping for something to make them not sad anymore, whether that be a charity ball or a bottle of whiskey.
“Hm?” Tim nudges him gently.
Damian’s brush freezes over the canvas.
“Did I mess you up?” Tim’s in Damian’s circle. He’d known he was entering the circle when he took a seat by Damian, but for some reason, it’d slipped his mind that Damian wasn’t always open to letting people (Tim) into his circle.
“No,” he whispers (it’s always a whisper, a rasp). He begins again.
“I have to go by the Cave tonight. Bruce wants to see me, sent me a cryptic text. Though I’m not sure whether it’s just his cryptic nature or something actually threatening, you know?” Tim eats another potato chip.
Damian nods.
“Want half my sandwich?”
Damian doesn’t answer as he paints a few last strokes. His paintbrush is set down. He takes one of the quarters.
“Let’s talk,” Tim says. He’s too forthright to say otherwise.
“About?” Damian asks.
“The painting.”
“No.”
“What I missed while I was gone.”
Damian takes another piece of the sandwich. He’s hungry (Tim takes note). “Nothing happened of paramount importance.”
“Tell me the insignificant details.”
Damian does. He recounts the past month in the passive aggressive monotone he always takes when Tim leaves him for a while and forgets to call. The sandwich and chips are gone by the time he’s done.
Tim wraps him in a hug. “And the painting?”
“It’s ugly, the Hunchback of Notre Dame personified. It’s twisted, maladjusted, sunken, disfigured, disillusioned.”
“And you love it?”
Damian grins sadly. “And I love it.”
…
Bruce wonders what Damian will grow up to be.
It’s hard to predict with the ghostly gray that is Damian. He’s the grandson of Ra’s al Ghul. He’s half something else. He spends the bulk of his evenings accompanying someone on patrol. He spends the other bulk blowing up buildings full of criminals. He paints. He kills. He has unleveraged resources. He has Tim.
Damian doesn’t seem to know either, but he doesn’t seem too worried either.
Tim says Damian will be an artist, but the dream is too puffy to be a pure reality.
There’s hope for him yet, though.
Bruce closes Damian’s file and turns his attention back to Clark’s presentation the new West Wing. You’d think signing the checks would be a ticket out of JLA board meetings. Every time, Bruce finds himself sorely mistaken.
The rest of the table claps as Clark finishes and takes a seat. “Anything else, anyone?”
Silence.
“Okay then. We reconvene a week from today.”
As Bruce gets up, taps his boots as he makes his way to his room. The hallways are dimly lit as the always are this time of night. He checks his gauntlet for the time. 11:45. It’s early. He can fit in a three hour patrol if he hurries.
Bruce enters his room to find an intruder.
The boy whose file he’d been studying the past hour sat curled up in the corner of the room.
“What’s wrong?” Bruce asks, because why would Damian come if everything was alright?
“Tim’s gone,” Damian says quietly.
Bruce kneels in front of him, waiting for Damian to continue.
“He won’t be back for at least a week.”
“What do you need, chum?”
Damian holds out an orange pill bottle. Five pills remain in it. “I only have enough for two more days.”
Bruce reads the label. Folate. He doesn’t ask why Damian hasn’t told them he’s anemic. He wonders if he ever would have found out had Tim not went out of town. He glances up to see Damian’s still looking at him. Does he think Bruce is going to say no? “We’ll go tomorrow,” he says.
Damian visibly relaxes, shoulders lowering. The boy looks lonely. Bruce isn’t sure how it’s possible, but he sees it in Damian. Maybe he’d keep Damian at the manor until Tim returned.
…
Tim watches his breath in the Winter air. Five more minutes, and he can go home. Of course, he’s been telling himself that for the past hour, but every time he gets close to five minutes, another matter is there for him to attend to.
He calls burglaries and violence in general matters. That’s all they are, after all. There’s no need to make a big deal out of everything. That’s what his mother used to always say, and Tim likes to live by the sayings of dead people, as their advice is most likely the most entertaining with maximum consequences, death being one of them.
So, he shivers and breathes and rubs the handwarmers Bruce got him in his gloves fingers. They’re top notch. He had Lucius make them especially for Tim. They’re not enough tonight, though..
“Dancing in the pale moonlight?” It seems Tim’s ghost has come to haunt him tonight.
He grins and turns, finding his ghost nowhere. “Come out.”
And the apparition is next to him.
“Where were you?” Tim asks.
Damian sighs, leaning into Tim’s side.
His added warmth is nice.
“I dunno,” he says quietly.
Tim rolls his eyes. “Let’s go home.”
…
Red. So pretty. Red.
Crimson. Cherry. Candy.
Rose. Ruby.
Red.
Red going up. Red going down.
Red tears. Red laughs. Red coughs. Red people.
Red. Everything’s red.
Red hand.
How did his hand get red?
Blood red.
Will it turn crimson if he asks for a cherry on top? That is the saying… Cherry on top. Tim taught him that.
Strawberry red spills from his hand, gushing like jam being squeezed through a bottle. His fingers open and close around the strawberry sauce. Will it taste nice if he licks it? Damian doesn’t much like strawberry sauce, so probably not.
A faint thump comes from behind him, a step that doesn’t want to be heard but has been.
The foot is too heavy to be Tim’s, but it’s too light to be Bruce’s. Dick would have talked by now, as would Jason. Damian finds it doubtful that Alfred Pennyworth would waste his time breathing the same air Damian does, but the scent of tomato soup that’s made its way to Damian’s nose says otherwise.
“If you’d point me to the dining area,” he says.
Damian closes the jam in his hand, points to the bar with his clean one. He must be looking for Tim, but surely he knows Tim’s not here yet. Tim doesn’t come back until after patrol, as early as midnight and as late as four in the morning.
He examines his painting once more. Small strokes. Big strokes. Old strokes. New strokes. Red. Red. Red. Red. Red dots--
Damian doesn’t like being touched. His jam-soaked hand is no one’s business but his own, and he’s not a child that needs shushing.
Alfred slowly wipes the jam off with a warm washcloth; he swabs the long cut in Damian’s hand; and he wraps the hand with gauze, so Damian can’t mess with it. “Come eat, my boy.” He takes Damian’s uninjured hand and Damian to the bar and has the latter sit.
Damian stares down a steaming bowl of tomato soup, parmesan and basil sprinkled on top, a spoon and napkin in repose to his right. The red is so rich but the smell’s making him sick; he mostly eats canned soups since he can’t manage to cook without burning himself. He doesn’t say so, just eats half the soup and thanks Alfred and returns to his Red.
Red…
Red is many things. Red is happy. Red is sad. Red is a person inside out. Red is red.
Alfred takes a seat on the sofa behind him, sighing and muttering about the FA Cup.
Damian hands the him the not-red remote. When he goes back to his hand, he’s slightly sad it’s no longer red. He picks at the bandage as he examines the red some more.
…
The Ghost of Gotham haunts heroes and villains alike.
One person who has come to love the boy as much as he can love is the Joker.
He is homicidal. He likes guns. He loves red.
“JJ,” he sighs, visibly bored. He sits in his throne with nothing to do. He’s no plan to perform, no heinous crime to commit, no Bat to bother. “JJ, come come.”
He calls the ghost JJ because he believes the ghost will follow in his footsteps. The ghost knows that-- though he’s crazy-- he’s not near crazy enough to be the next Joker. That and the fact that he’s an al Ghul encourages him to remove himself from anything particularly funny or unsavory he’s invited to. Besides, what would the great Ra’s al Ghul think if he found out his only grandson doesn’t mind the company of a maniac?
“JJ! Come sit with me! I’m bored.”
Damian perches on the side of the throne and balances his sketchbook on his thigh.
“What’re you drawing?”
He shrugs. That’s the fun of abstract. He never has to answer that question.
“I’m bored!” the clown exclaims. “Can’t we go dancing or kill the Bat?”
He shakes his head. Dancing is boring, and the sky’s not red enough for a ballroom.
“I’m starving. How about a break to eat?”
“I have soup.”
“I want… a burger!”
Damian’s no idea why he’s been charmed by the clown, but his company is only beat by the Bat’s and Tim’s, and he can’t find the harm in blowing up buildings and slitting throats in the name of red and for the sake of art, of which there are no nobler causes.
…
How many people die alone? How many people die lonely? What’s the difference in the numbers? Is the tolerance nominal? Paltry?
None of it matters. Ghosts live on for eternity, haunting until they don’t want to. Then, they exit stage right and find a grave to rest in.
#batman fanfiction#fanfic#batfam#damian wayne#tim drake#bruce wayne#dick grayson#alfred pennyworth#literary fiction#heidicomics
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► Damian Wayne
Damian Wayne is the son of Batman and Talia al Ghul. This makes him an heir to the world's greatest crime-fighter, and its greatest super-villain Ra's al Ghul. Damian became the fifth Robin, working alongside Dick Grayson as Batman.
Damian's existence was initially unknown to Batman. Genetically perfected and grown in an artificial womb, Damian was intended to be a formidable warrior. Raised by Talia and the League of Assassins, Damian became a talented martial artist by the time he was a pre-teen.
Damian was seen years later when Talia had him spy on Bruce with her. Talia revealed Damian's existence to Bruce Wayne at ten years old and left him in his father's custody in an effort to disrupt Batman's work. Precocious, spoiled, selfish and violent, Damian battled Robin (Tim Drake), whom Damian wanted to replace as Batman's sidekick, and sucker punched him off the T. Rex model in the Batcave. Grounded by Batman, Damian escaped, donned a variant Robin costume made of Jason Todd's old tunic and assorted League of Assassin gear, and got into a fight with the villainous Spook, whom he decapitated. Although misguided and malicious, Damian seemed to genuinely want to aid Batman's war on crime as Damian saw himself as Wayne's true son though that remained unconfirmed.
Eventually, Batman confronted Talia, but both Talia and Damian were soon caught in an explosion. They survived the explosion, but a badly injured Damian required transplants of harvested organs, which his mother ordered her physicians to carry out. Damian made a full recovery.
Talia, Head of the Demon, takes Damian to the Australian Outback where he is tutored in the secret history of his grandfather, Ra's al Ghul. Talia is unaware that a former servant of Ra's, named White Ghost, plans to use Damian as a shell for the soul of Ra's to return to Earth. This process would, of course, kill Damian. Talia is able to save her son from his fate at the last minute.
Sometime after surviving Ra's resurrection, Damian had sensed that someone is out to get Batman. In response to this, Talia began to formulate a plan. It was later revealed that Bruce Wayne had performed a DNA test on Damian to determine any blood connection between them. After learning of Batman's disappearance, Talia took Damian to Wayne Manor, where they deactivated a series of traps and saved Commissioner James Gordon in the process. Damian rescued Alfred from a burning batcave and the kid took the Batmobile, driving it to Arkham in order to aid Batman against the Black Glove. On the road, Damian knocks an ambulance off a bridge, much to Alfred's dismay.
After Batman's apparent death, Damian was left in the care of Alfred Pennyworth and trained by Dick Grayson.
While Gotham was drowning in chaos, crime and corruption, Damian was joy riding in the Batmobile with a friend when Oracle called him to send him on a mission to the Gotham Harbor. Oracle took control of the car, but Killer Croc and Poison Ivy attacked the Batmobile and Croc knocked the car off the road into a stream. Damian was terrified and tried to talk his way out of the situation, but Croc was about to eat Damian until he was saved by Nightwing, who used the Bat-Glider to take Damian out of danger. While they were flying, they were shot out of the air and upon landing they were quickly surrounded by Black Mask's goons. Suddenly an impostor Batman appeared and shot the criminals, killing them all. Dick fought the impostor, who was revealed to be Jason Todd. Jason shot Damian in the chest and Dick took Damian back to the Batcave, where Alfred healed Damian's wounds.
Despite working as Grayson's Robin, Damian expresses a strong willingness to take over the Batman identity himself if Dick is not "up to it." Damian has no respect for Grayson, and tells him that he needs to earn it if he wants his respect.
It is revealed that Damian has begun to visit his father's former friend and enemy Thomas Elliot, also known as Hush, in the prison at the top of Wayne Tower that Dick and Tim put him in, and engages him in chess games. Damian claims that these visits are out of his curiosity for why Hush would alter his appearance to that of Bruce Wayne's. But Hush suspects that the visits are rather Damian's form of grieving for Bruce and a way to "spend time with your old man."
It appears that under Dick's teachings, Damian has begun to grow a conscience and has even demonstrated signs of empathy, particularly towards children. This is demonstrated by his behavior during a mission with the new Azrael and more recently during a Christmas case, in which Damian and Dick find the bodies of several dismembered kids, causing Damian to vomit in horror.
Damian also becomes involved with the Wayne Enterprises' board members during one board meeting led by Lucius Fox. He manages to track down financial irregularities within the Wayne Enterprises accounts, intimidating the board of members along the way. The board becomes impressed that the young Wayne has such impressive business capabilities despite his young age, apparently inherited from his father.
After Tim Drake is revealed to have named as Bruce Wayne's heir in accordance of his will made prior of his disappearance, Damian has filed an injunction with the boards to against Drake since he is Wayne's son.
After Bruce's skull was taken from his grave, Damian and Dick decide to bring the rest of his skeleton, along with those of Damian's paternal grandparents, to their base beneath Wayne Tower. Damian is quite shaken by the sight of the bones of his family. On the way to the cave, Dick's body is possessed by Deadman, whom Damian lashes out at in confusion. Deadman then possesses and leaves Damian's body, subsequently passing his knowledge of the attack of the Black Lanterns onto him. The two heroes then prepare for the Black Lantern's assault on Gotham. After raiding the Army Reserve National Guard Armory, Dick, Damian, and the arriving Tim Drake, are able to save Commissioner Gordon, Oracle, and the surviving police officers at Gotham Central from the reanimated versions of the original Dark Knight's deceased rogue gallery members. However, they then find themselves having a horrific encounter with Batman and the Red Robin's parents - the Flying Graysons and Jack and Janet Drake - reanimated as Black Lanterns.. Dick and Tim send Damian with the Gordons to their underground base while they battle the Black Lanterns. Dick eventually orders Damian through their comm-links to send one of his Wingers with Mr. Freeze's gun. Grayson uses the weapon to cryogenically suspend himself and Tim, forcing the Black Lanterns to retreat as they are unable to read any sign of life of them. Deadman later revives the former Boy Wonders.
Talia begun to clone Damian as she has realized that her son has completely sided with Dick Grayson and the Bat-Family. Damian finally stands up for his Robin mantle, telling Talia that being Robin was the best thing that he had ever done, and Talia does not need to save him from something he chooses to be. Talia then shows Damian the cloned version of himself, whom she sees as Damian's younger brother. Talia admits to Damian, that even though she loves him, he is no longer welcome and is now considered an enemy of the House of al Ghul. Damian defiantly replied that he hoped that he would be a worthy one. Damian (as Robin) is then seen teaming up with Batman and Alfred to begin the search for Bruce Wayne.
Dick Grayson eventually sees that Damian requires friendship and compassion in order to curb his harsh methods. So Grayson takes Damian to Titans Tower, where Damian, despite not being a teenager, takes steps to become the leader of the Teen Titans. His first mission ends in disaster after a super powered teen, who was using his powers in revenge for being bullied, is attacked by Damian after Raven is able to calm him down and the teen lashes out and escapes.
Upon his return to Gotham, Grayson notices that Damian's time with the Titans has made him more patient and he is less prone to use his weapons. After apologizing to Damian about his time with the Titans being a bust, Damian states that he knows Grayson sent him there to find friends but "[he has] one in Gotham and that's more than enough" implying that Grayson is the only friend he will need.
Bruce and Damian begin patrolling together as Batman and Robin for the first time. Bruce tries teaching Damian about the sanctity of life, but has trouble relating with his son. Damian begins showing restraint, which Bruce commends, although Alfred still criticizes him for not being supportive enough. Bruce buys Damian a dog named Titus to teach him compassion. They were both targeted by a super-villain named Nobody. They are kidnapped by Nobody, who tries to show Batman that his no-kill methods are ineffective. He encourages Robin's darker side and tries to take him as an apprentice. Robin angrily leaves the Batcave to work with Nobody, who asks him to execute a criminal. Robin reveals that he was lying, and refuses to betray his father. Nobody decides to torture Robin, continuing his personal vendetta against Batman. When Batman discovers their location, he beats Nobody mercilessly. Nobody swears that he will return and kill their friends, so Damian shoots and kills him. Instead of growing angry, Bruce reacts with compassion. When Damian gets out of the hospital, they talk about how difficult it is to adjust from the life of an assassin. Despite their differences, they play with Titus and enjoy spending more time together as father and son.
Bruce and Damian begin working together against his mother Talia, revealed as the head of Leviathan. During a fight in a meat factory, he converts to vegetarianism and adopts a pet named Bat-Cow. He is believed dead when he was shot in the head by an assassin named Goatboy. It was revealed that Talia has created another clone as his replacement, the obedient fully-grown Heretic. Robin is shown to have faked his death, and is confined to the Batcave at Batman's orders. To avoid the bounty on his head, he begins using the name Redbird and switches to a new costume. This allows him to team up with Jason Todd, who is using the Wingman identity. They work together with Batman Incorporated to take down the League of Assassins' top killers. However, Batman tells Damian he has to quit crime-fighting altogether. Bruce reveals that he has seen Damian's future, as told through "Batman in Bethlehem". If Damian does not retire, his actions will lead to a plague that forces the President to nuke Gotham. Batman Incorporated fights Leviathan in the streets, while Damian is forced to stay inside. Alfred Pennyworth gets him a cat to take care of, who he also names Alfred. Damian refuses to stay home while his allies are dying, and Alfred allows him to leave knowing he cannot be stopped.[48] He flies his exo-skeleton into the center of the battle, where Leviathan has taken over Wayne Tower. He neutralizes the child soldiers, and teams up with Dick Grayson to take down the remaining assassins. The Heretic flings Grayson aside, and challenges Damian to a sword-fight. Despite his bravery and refusal to give up, Damian is impaled through the chest and killed.
After various trials and tribulations involving his corpse, mainly revolving around Ra's al Ghul and Apokolips, Batman managed to rescue his son's body and, though using the Omega Sanction infused within a Chaos Crystal shard, brought Damian back to life within the Batcave.
On his 13th birthday Damian is sent a package by his grandfather Ra's al Ghul, which contains a dead Robin. After a meeting with his mother Talia, he discovers that it is a warning from his cousin Mara al Ghul, who has chosen him as her prey as part of an initiation ritual she must undertake in order to properly join the League of Assassins. Mara has been made leader of a group known as the Demon's Fist, which was originally supposed to be lead by Damian but became hers when he chose to leave the league. They too have chosen targets that they must hunt down in order to ascend to the league, Damian descides to collect the other Demon's fist's targets in order to form the new Teen Titans; this includes Starfire, Beast Boy, Raven and Kid Flash.
While searching for a tree for Christmas, Jonathan Samuel Kent accidentally torched some woodlands near a swamp in Hamilton. He was subsequently rescued by Maya Ducard aka Nobody and Goliath. Jon later awakened in the Batcave and found out that Robin had been keeping him under surveillance for a long time. The two initially did not get along, and the situation was further complicated when Batman and Superman arrived, blaming each other for the conflict.
Powers
Archery: Damian asserted that his training with the League of Assassins gave him greater mastery of the bow than even Green Arrow.
Artistry: Damian is considered as skilled with a brush as he is with a sword.
Business Management: Trained by his mother and the League of Assassins in the way of controlling a company with an iron grip. Even as a young boy he knows that in business there are wars and even in war there are assassins. Damian is involved with the Wayne Enterprises' board members. He even intimidated the board members by tracking down financial irregularities within the Wayne Enterprises' accounts.
Disguise: Damian has disguised himself as an elderly busdriver and a substitute teacher.
Driving: He learned to drive at the age of five.
Martial Arts: Trained by the League of Assassins, Damian has stated he knows just as many martial arts as Batman and can use them more effectively. This may be a largely overstated comment but one should not ask for verification. Damian may not be physically tough but he knows how to control his weight and has stated that he knows, "one thousand ways to kill a man." Damian's training has made him a formidable hand-to-hand combatant able to defeat or hold his own against multiple opponents, armed opponents or skilled hand-to-hand combatants.
Genius Level Intellect: Damian has inherited a genius IQ from his father.
Mimicry: Damian can imitate anyone's voice and speech patterns perfectly as he imitated Tim Drake's voice in order to gain access to the Batcave.
Peak Human Condition
Pedagogy: He once taught a geology class for a day at Jon Smith's school.
Stealth: Damian was able to sneak into Gotham City and furthermore into the Batcave virtually undetected until he felt necessary. Of all the Robins, Damian may be the one that is the most silent.
Swordsmanship: Damian assaulted both Tim Drake and Bruce Wayne on separate occasions with his sword, apparently the same sword used by Ra's al Ghul. Although Damian no longer uses his sword he may be unmatched with one if armed correctly.
Throwing: Damian is trained by the League of Assassins in shuriken throwing and further trained by Batman in Batarang throwing.
Arrogance: More often than not, Damian believes himself to be better than he is, this has allowed him to underestimate opponents as well as irritate his allies.
Damian has declared himself a vegetarian.
Damian has a strong love for animals. Pets he has owned include Goliath, Bat-Cow, Titus (dog), and Pennyworth (cat).
Verses
tba
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My Favorite Faded Fantasy: Chapter Six
A retelling of Olicity through smut; each chapter uses a canon moment and changes their story.
Chapter Six- Season Three: Felicity
Read on AO3.
It was after Oliver survived the fall.
“While you were gone, for almost a month, I allowed myself to fantasize, to dream that maybe, just maybe, Merlyn was wrong; that you were alive, that you would come back, and that when you did you would be different, that almost dying would give you a new perspective on life, that you would just do things differently-”
“Things between us, you mean.”
Felicity hesitated, wondering if he had changed at all as he stood there in the alley. She was tired of being a secret. She was tired of him never letting her in, always putting up walls and avoiding topics of his past.
He loved her. She knew that. But she was still waiting for the day that he would trust her completely, that he would open up to her and want to talk to her. “Before you left, the last thing you said to me…was that you love me. Now you’re back, and the first thing you tell me is that you are working with the man who turned your sister, a woman you’re supposed to love, into a killer; who killed a woman you used to love.” She paused, knowing the weight of what she was about to say. “I don’t want to be a woman that you love.”
As he stared at her, his eyes wide and hurt, begging her to take it back, she nudged by him, heading inside with every intent of getting her things and going home. She’d daydreamed about seeing him again nearly every night, and every morning she woke up for a split second of happiness before his absence crushed her.
Everyone thought that he was dead. Roy, John and Laurel did their best to fill the void that he’d left in their city. But she knew that Oliver Queen was not someone that you could ever replace; and it terrified her to try. So, while her friends moved on, she held on. She kept track of all his accounts, but they all went dark, untouched. It wasn’t until Malcolm Merlyn delivered a sword covered in Oliver’s blood that she lost some of the hope she’d been clinging on to.
But even then, she knew that accepting his death would mean a piece of herself had died with him, and she didn’t want to lose either; him or herself. She’d spent all those weeks desperately holding on to hope; hope that he was alive, hope that she’d see him walking through the door one day. And when she finally did, he said that he’d decided to join forces with Malcolm Merlyn. Right after she’d yelled at the team for even considering it…because she swore that Oliver never would have.
She was wrong.
And she was angry. She’d dreamed about seeing him again; what he’d say, how he’d act. She dreamed about being with him in public. No more hiding, no more lies. But he’d blown back into town without a word, leaving her to see him on TV and then barely looking at her while he spoke to the team.
And now he stood in front of her even more afraid and closed off from her than he’d been since they met.
She wasn’t just angry. She was furious.
“Felicity.”
She froze in her tracks, not wanting to turn around because she was afraid that his face would look as hurt as his voice sounded, and she would have a hard time walking away. She heard his footsteps behind her, and she turned, shaking her head at him, but his eyes were piercing into her, as angry as she felt.
Oliver took her face between his hands and lifted it, his eyes darting between hers. “Is that how you really feel?”
Felicity closed her eyes, begging her body not to be affected by how amazing it felt to have his hands on her again. She bit her lip, and he sighed, stepping closer. She could feel the frustration leaving him in her hesitation. She didn’t yell, she didn’t tell him to go to hell, and she didn’t confirm that she’d meant what she’d said. She kept her eyes closed and stayed quiet because she wasn’t actually sure how she felt; from being relieved at seeing him, to sad, to angry, to grateful…it was a lot. He chose to accept her confusion, not pushing her into a fight. Instead, she felt his lips, gentle and soft, against her cheek.
“I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt you. I wish I would have found a better way to come back here…to tell you about Malcolm. I should have gone to you first. The first thing I should have done was kiss you, not dropped this on you.” Felicity sighed, leaning into his hands.
He never bothered to pretend with her. He never played it coy, never tried to charm her. He just let her see him. He didn’t even attempt at hiding how much he loved her, even after she’d been so nasty to him. He still stared at her like she was the only woman he’d ever love, still touched her like she was something precious to him. “Why are you crying?” He whispered, his thumbs wiping at her cheeks. “Felicity…it’s okay.”
She shook her head, “No, it’s not. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where we go from here.”
“Hey,” He said, soothing her as he stepped closer, “I love you. So much. And there wasn’t one moment that I wasn’t thinking about you…since the second I left until right now, you were right there with me.”
Felicity opened her eyes, looking into his and seeing the intense honesty behind his gaze that made her heart race. She imagined what he had been through, seeing that sword from Malcolm in her mind, remembering that Malcolm said he must have fallen from the mountain, frozen to death even if the sword hadn't killed him…how hurt he must have been. But he was back. And it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t what she dreamed of. It wasn’t even what she expected from him. But it was him. “I’m so sorry,” She whispered, closing her eyes again, not wanting the mental pictures of what she imagined his duel with Ra’s was like.
Oliver’s brow furrowed, and he ran his thumbs over her cheeks, pressing his lips to her forehead and pulling her into his arms. “For what, baby? You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“You almost died. I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through. Malcolm brought us the sword…and I don’t even want to think about how awful these past few weeks have been for you. You’ve survived so much and I just- I wish that you hadn’t have had to. I wish I could have carried some of that for you, but instead I feel like I just make it worse and I hate that I will never truly understand the pain that you’ve been through…but you almost died, and I just yelled at you. So I’m sorry.”
“Fe-li-ci-ty,” he tightened his arms around her as he hummed her name in her favorite way. God, she’d missed how her name sounded on his lips. “My experiences shouldn’t stop you from telling me how you feel. We can debate all night about Malcolm, but I’d rather hold you tonight. It’s been a long day, and I just want to be with you.”
Felicity nodded, “I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.” She said, tears falling down her cheeks as she spoke with her eyes closed.
Oliver’s lips covered her face in kisses, “I’m here.” He mumbled, “You don’t need to be sorry, I understand how emotional this all is, I feel it too. But we’re both alive. I have you back, and I don’t want to talk about anything besides you and me. The rest can wait until tomorrow, okay?”
She nodded, calmed by the way his lips grazed her face, his nose rubbing against hers. “Okay.”
Oliver moved his mouth to her ear, whispering softly. “We protect the city together. But we need to learn how to separate those things from us. Because me and you…Felicity, we just work.” She opened her eyes slowly, leaning her cheek into his. “You make me want to be the man that you see in me. And I don’t want to let Merlyn or anyone else come between us. I know…I know that if it was just me and you…if we didn’t have to worry about the team, or the city, or anything else…we’d be perfectly happy together.”
Felicity nodded, hiding her face in his neck. She’d had similar daydreams. Normal life. With him. A long drive. A beach. Seeing the world with him. No missions, no interruptions, just them…and she knew that it would be perfect. That they would be happy, and they would spend their lives arguing over who’s turn it was to wash the dishes or how many kids they were going to have.
“Felicity…” Oliver mumbled as he listened to her crying, tears she hadn’t even realized were falling.
“I wish your boat never crashed on that stupid island and I wish you never met Amanda Waller, or Slade Wilson, or Ra’s Al Ghul.” She confessed, “I wish you could have had a normal life, Oliver.”
Oliver pulled back, analyzing her face for a moment. His eyes darkened as he realized that her tears were for him. That she was hurting for the pain that he’d lived through. “Felicity..." He trailed off, shaking his head, his fingers stroking her face, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Please don't cry over me." She understood what he meant; I don't deserve it.
“Are you okay?” She asked. She reached her hands up his body, running them over every inch of him as if she was looking for the brokenness, trying to heal it.
Oliver shut his eyes, nodding. “You have no idea how good it is to feel this again.” He mumbled, leaning his face into her palm as she touched his cheek.
She knew how wrong he was; he deserved every tear she shed for him. He was a man who survived, who fought for the people that he loved, who had a heart that was so big it could encompass his entire city.
But he was also someone who was broken. Someone who never deserved the torture and pain that life had thrown at him. He battled with monsters and carried weight that no one should ever have to experience. And he was still beautiful.
She blinked back more tears, and Oliver quickly took her face between his hands and planted his lips on hers.
He deserved to heal. And she wanted to be the one to help him do it. Felicity leaned towards him, circling her hips into his and hearing him release a moan immediately. She gripped at his arms, her heart picked up, feeling an urgency rising. Suddenly their weeks apart flooded both of them, touching him in that moment felt like life or death. She needed to feel him.
His arms wrapped around her waist, his hands gripping her tightly as his mouth crushed hers, his lips working against hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth. The noises he made as he lost control elicited her own moans, along with a dampness between her legs. His need for her matched hers. “Oliver,” she moaned, biting down on his lip as her hips rocked into his. He read the need she felt for friction, only slightly finding it against his jeans.
Oliver slipped his hand under her dress, shoving her panties aside, and just as quickly, his fingers were stroking her. He lifted her slightly, and she hung on to his shoulders, burying her face in his neck as she cried out. She wrapped one leg around his waist, grinding against his hand. Oliver guided her backwards until he had her pressed against the brick wall of Verdant. She could hear his ragged breaths in her ear, and she wanted to take care of him.
Felicity picked her head up, reaching between them and gripping her hand around his wrist to stop him. He sighed, slowing his hand but his fingers still stroked her. He put his forehead against hers, catching his breath, “Why are we stopping?” He asked.
He stared into her eyes intensely, hear radiating from his gaze and her mind went blank for a moment. Instead of answering, she wiggled against him until he released her from the cage of his body. She kissed his neck, running her hands down his body, unzipping his jacket. When she reached his pants, she tugged on the zipper, bending to kneel in front of him. His hands grabbed both of her wrists to stop her, keeping her tight against his chest.
Her eyes flew up to meet his, and he shook his head slightly, his jaw tensing. She raised an eyebrow, and he growled, “Later.” Oliver lifted her arms and adjusted them around his neck. Then he bent her leg at her knee and hiked it back around his waist. He grinded his hips into hers, his jeans rubbing against her sensitive nub and she gasped, her nails digging into is neck. He cursed, pushing her with his hips into the wall even harder and she cried out. “Right now, I want to watch you come.”
Felicity could only nod. Oliver reached his hand back between them, shoving her underwear aside again and pushing his fingers against her clit. Felicity wrapped both arms around his neck, pressing her chest to his and burying her face in his neck. She kissed and sucked at his neck, marking him as hers and listening to his panting as his hips flexed into hers; pinning her against the wall and protecting her. He dropped his lips to her ear, pulling her earlobe into his mouth and sucking on it, biting it gently with his teeth, reminding her of the first time he’d done that and she’d let out a loud moan, surprising him for a moment until a pleased and wicked smile had spread across her lips. Now he loved it, always eliciting the same response from her. She moaned now, piercing the quiet alley, and he growled back in reply, a low sound that came from his chest.
He rubbed her frantically, chasing the cries that freed themselves from her throat. “Yes, Felicity,” he encouraged, just as breathless as she was. She clung to him, digging her fingers into his back and he hid his face in her neck, letting her feel his ragged breath on her skin as his fingers worked her up.
Her legs began to shake, and she knew that he could feel it because he let out a soft chuckle as he always did, pleased with himself every time he made her lose control like this. She couldn’t stop the moans and screams that ripped through her body, and she didn’t care to. “I want to feel you come around my fingers,” he murmured, panting as he pushed his fingers inside of her, moving his thumb to rub her sensitive nub.
“Oh my god,” She moaned, his fingers sliding in and out of her easily in a desperate rhythm.
The door behind him suddenly swung open, and Oliver pulled his fingers out of her just as she screamed, the door crashing against the brick wall startling her. She hid her head in his chest. Oliver glanced behind him, “Laurel,” he breathed, not moving for Felicity’s sake, letting her stay hidden behind him.
“Oh. Oh. I’m sorry. We…we just wanted to make sure you guys were okay. And…now I see that you are.” Felicity closed her eyes, completely frozen with her arms and leg wrapped around Oliver. He didn’t move either, just turned his head to look at Laurel. Felicity felt him nod, and Laurel cleared her throat, “Okay, I’m going to leave. You two have a good night.”
Oliver hesitated, watching as the door closed behind Laurel before turning to Felicity. She groaned, her face now hidden behind her hands. Oliver sighed, tugging on her wrists, “Felicity, look at me.”
She moved her hands away from her face so that she could slap his chest gently. “Maybe if you would have told her about us, that wouldn't have happened!”
“I haven’t really had the time!” He huffed, “I will. Now, can I finish giving you that amazing orgasm you were about to have?”
Felicity rolled her eyes, “No,” She grimaced, her body reacting to the need she still felt to have that orgasm. “I never told... Laurel…or Roy…about us, I mean, while you were gone.”
Oliver sighed, stepping away from her and pulling out his keys. “We’ll tell them tomorrow. Together. I’m sure Dig will pretend to be shocked. Tonight, though…” His eyes softened as he watched her, flushed and aroused. She was so in love with him it made her do crazy things like let him touch her in an alley. “Come home with me.”
Felicity beamed, reaching her arms out for him. He came between her legs, and she kissed his cheek, her lips trailing down to his neck where she nipped at him. Oliver groaned, “Come home with me.” He said again.
She laughed, sucking harder on his favorite spot, leaving her mark. “Yes.” She mumbled.
He hummed, “Okay. And we’ll tell the team in the morning.” He lifted her chin to look at her eyes. And she saw the first glimpse of playfulness since he came back. “I can call the media tomorrow, too, if you want. Tell them that I’m in love with Felicity Smoak. Maybe put posters around town. Scream it from some rooftops.”
Felicity giggled, “That’s a good start.”
He chuckled, “Honestly, Felicity. I’m alive. I’m home. I don’t care who knows that I love you.”
Felicity bit her lip, “I just wish Laurel didn’t have to see that…but, they might have already figured it out. I was…not very subtle.”
His eyes searched hers, “I’m sorry. You thought you lost me…and none of our friends even knew about us.”
She shook her head, “John did. I’m okay. You did what you had to do to keep Thea safe. To keep us all safe. I just wish you never had to make that choice.”
He nodded slowly, staring at her with new appreciation. She knew how it felt to not know if they'd ever see each other again. “I love you.” He whispered.
Felicity closed her eyes, “It feels so good to hear you saying that again.” Oliver gripped her hips, hiking her body closer and lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around him.
He stared up at her and smiled, “Oh yeah?" She nodded. "I love you,” he mumbled again. Oliver carried her to his bike, mumbling his “I love you’s” in her ear as he kissed her, listening to her giggles filling the empty parking lot.
By the time he reached his bike, Felicity was raving, her hips jerking against his, seeking friction against the bulge in his jeans. “Take me home and prove it,” she whispered in his ear.
Oliver smirked, “I will.” He said, setting her down in front of the motorcycle and handing her his helmet.
She took it, smiling back, “Promise?”
“Promise.”
She wasn’t sure what had woken her up. “Oliver,” she croaked, reaching across the bed to reach him. His side was empty, but the sheets were warm where he had been. She sighed, turning and flicking on the lamp beside her. She blinked as her eyes burned from the light. Rubbing them, she sat up, pulling the sheet over her breasts and glancing around.
Oliver sat on the floor against the window, wearing a pair of boxers. His legs were pulled up to his chest, his face hidden in the crook of his elbow. “Oliver?” She asked, scrambling out of bed. He lifted his head to look up at her, something intense and painful in his eyes. “What is it?” She asked.
He shook his head, and she picked his shirt up off the floor and pulled it over her head, crossing the room to kneel in front of him. “Hey,” she whispered, touching every part of him that she could reach. Oliver sighed, dropping his legs, and she scooted between them. His arms hung at his sides instead of wrapping around her as she hugged him. “Talk to me,” she pleaded, consciously keeping her voice calm and soft.
“My dreams feel so real ever since…”
She searched his eyes, “Ever since Ra’s almost killed you?”
Oliver’s eyes fluttered shut, “It wasn’t almost, Felicity. He did.” Her hands froze on his face and he opened his eyes. “Kill me, I mean. He did. A friend of mine…in the league, he found me and he brought me to another friend…and she-I don’t know. But I swear…I died. I-I felt it.”
Felicity shook her head, “And your friend, she…” He nodded slowly.
Her gaze fell down his chest to the noticeable mark. She bit her lip to keep from crying out; the wound from Ra’s sword stood out against his other scars. Those ones were mostly healed, easily accepted as tortures of his past…but this scar was fresh; his skin was bruised around it, the mark a dark red color, protruding and angry. She knew him and loved him before he'd received that scar. She'd known his body without it.
Felicity sat in silence, watching his face, taking in every feature and wondering how a man who had been through hell had come out alive, still so passionate. So loving and strong. She was struck by the fact that after everything the world had put him through, Oliver still wanted to save it. His scar was gruesome and wicked, but the man underneath it was the opposite. He was broken in the most breathtaking way. Because he didn't let those things make him hateful or evil. If his scars were reminders of the beautiful person that he was, then she hoped that he was never ashamed of them. She wasn't.
He touched her hands where they sat on either side of his face, his brow furrowing. She shook her head, knowing that he'd hate it if he knew how deeply she felt his pain. With him. She knew that if she lost her calm, he would stop talking about this, and she wanted to hear it. She needed to hear it. She wanted to know everything that had hurt him, everything about him, and his sharing was rare. She took a deep breath, “Tell me.”
Oliver hesitated, trying to decide if he should or not. She nodded encouragingly, “Please,” she whispered.
“There was a moment…as Ra’s stabbed me, where I knew that I would never see you, or Thea, or John, or anyone else again. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even sadness. It was just this overwhelming feeling of knowing. I saw my parents. And Tommy...and it was like I just knew that it was over. Not just the fight, but my life." She saw the tears behind his eyes and he took a deep breath. She did the same. "I know it sounds silly, but I saw all of you in that one moment. That one second. And then it was just gone. I don't remember the fall. I don't remember Maseo finding me or Tatsu healing me. I don't remember anything until I woke up again.”
She resisted the urge to ask questions. There were so many things he still hadn't shared with her. So many parts of his life and things he'd been through that he didn't talk about. His eyes focused on hers, “You were the last thing I saw. And the only thing I saw…while Tatsu healed me.” His eyes bore into hers, and every question she had fled from her mind. Nothing else seemed important besides what he was saying now. She just listened.
Her heart felt swollen, it ached for him. But she also felt whole, knowing that his love for her ran deeper than she could have imagined. She was the last thing he saw before he fell off the mountain.
“I kept having this dream over and over.” He whispered. “The last time I saw you, you wanted to ask me not to go, but you knew that I had to. And in my dream, every time…I tell you that I’ll stay. I change my mind, and I tell you that I love you and I-I kiss you, and everything feels right.”
Felicity blinked and Oliver gripped her hands tighter, “But as soon as I do…I feel that sword in my chest.”
“Oliver…”
“The same dream." He pondered, like he wasn't sure himself why he kept having it.
“Is that what you dreamt about tonight?” She asked.
Oliver’s eyes darkened, “Not exactly.”
“What was it, then?” She asked. He shook his head, and she pulled his hands away, gripping them in hers. “Tell me.”
He sighed, “I saw you die.” He said, his voice low. She heard the darkness in his tone. “I expected it to end like it always does. When I feel the sword in my chest…I wake up.” His eyes lifted to meet hers and all she saw was pain. “But it wasn’t me.”
Felicity’s heart pounded in her chest as if it was trying to escape and offer itself to him. She quickly leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
Oliver gasped, kissing her back, pulling her closer. “I’m right here.” She mumbled against his lips, stroking his face. “I’m okay. You’re okay. It was just a dream.”
She climbed onto his lap, straddling him where he sat on the floor as her lips crushed his. His hands flew all over her, touching her like he had to feel every inch of her skin to make sure, a dull intensity behind his rough fingers as they dug into her.
Oliver grunted, pushing his hands up her shirt and then pulling back suddenly. He glanced away, just as out of breath as she was.
Felicity tried to catch her breath, “Why are you stopping?” She asked, caught up in the moment.
Oliver pressed his fingers to his lips, removing them from her body. “I’m just…I don’t know how gentle I’m capable of being with you right now.”
“I don’t remember complaining,” she whispered.
Oliver’s gaze was cautious at it met hers, and she forced herself to relax, despite the growing intensity that she was feeling, she wanted him to know that she wanted it. She felt like a ball of nerves; not because she was afraid, but because she’d never really seen him like this. Vulnerable.
She nodded, “I’m right here,” she whispered.
Oliver let out a low, guttural sound from his throat, catching her lips with his. “I will never let anyone hurt you, Felicity.” He promised, his voice gruff.
Felicity moaned, “I know.” She said, running her hands over him, trying to comfort him, tell him there wasn’t any danger of that. “I know, Oliver.” She took his face between her hands again, accepting the breathless way he kissed her. He dropped his lips to her jaw, and she tilted her head up, giving him access to her neck. He explored her skin, a sense of desperation inside of him that she’d never experienced before.
He touched her like he wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance again.
And there was nothing she could say that would convince him that everything was okay. She had to show him.
He had to feel it.
Oliver tugged on her shirt, and she lifted her arms, allowing him to lift it up and over her body. He threw it across the room, leaning down and sucking one of her breasts into his mouth. She cried out, angling her body up and into his mouth as her hips rocked against his. She could feel his erection beneath her, grinding against it and soaking the material of his boxers. He groaned as she circled her hips over him, his hands gripping her back and pulling her closer. He released her breast, moving his mouth up her chest, his breath uneven as it warmed her skin, breathing her in like he was desperate to remember every part of her.
She pushed at the waist of his boxers. Oliver lifted his hips, picking her up with him and she pulled them off.
As she settled back onto his lap, Oliver didn’t hesitate before he thrusted inside of her. “Oh,” she moaned, grabbing onto him as he lifted his hips from the floor to push into her. She ground her hips against him, and he groaned back. “I love you,” she mumbled, wrapping both of her arms around him. She lifted her hips and dropped them back down.
“Oh god,” Oliver moaned, “I love you, Felicity.” He moved his face from her neck to her chest, running his lips over her body, between her breasts, kissing and sucking a path on her skin.
Felicity whimpered, still sore from the promise he’d had no problem keeping as soon as they'd gotten home earlier that night. She wasn’t even sure how either of them were moving after the hours they’d spent in bed, their reunion rushed and frantic before they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, exhausted.
After nearly a month without him, it felt like heaven to have him inside of her again, but this was just as euphoric; she felt needed, desired, and so close to him after everything he’d told her. She could feel how much he loved her because of it.
Somehow it felt different than before. Deeper. She felt more connected to him than she ever had, and it was turning her on beyond belief. “Oliver!” She screamed.
“I have you,” Oliver grunted from beneath her, thrusting into her again. She wasn't sure if he was telling her or himself, but she didn't care. He did. In every sense, he had her.
She jolted as he adjusted her, pulling her body tight against his and standing up. Oliver carried her to the bed and laid her down on it, keeping his eyes locked on hers the whole time. He slipped out of her as he laid her on the pillows and she griped.
Oliver kissed his way up her body, hesitating as he planted soft kisses along her jaw. Felicity wiggled beneath him, her body growing anxious for release.
She whimpered, and Oliver lifted his head from her neck to look down at her. His eyes were wide, something nervous and wild behind his stare. She reached for his face. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” She mumbled. He nodded once, and she moved her hips, lifting them off the bed to meet his. “Make love to me, Oliver.” She whispered, watching his eyes roll back as he let out a moan.
With that, Oliver shoved into her. Felicity's legs began to shake, her toes curling as she gripped him. She cried out, and Oliver groaned. He dropped his lips to hers, his mouth devouring her as his hips slammed into her again and again.
She moaned into his mouth, her tongue playing with his. “Oliver,” she sighed, and he pulled his lips away from hers. Oliver let out a breath as he looked down at her, his expression admiring her, gazing down at her in fascination, like he still couldn't believe it was really her. She smiled up at him, nodding as she cupped his face, assuring him that it was all real. Everything they'd been through. "I'm yours," She promised, "I'm not going anywhere."
Oliver sighed, slamming his eyes shut and thrusting into her harder. He gripped her hair in his hands, and she lifted her hips to move with him. She ran her fingers over his arms, soothing the muscles that caged her down on either side of her body and he dropped his face into the crook of her neck, panting against her skin as he pounded into her.
She understood the vulnerability and desperation that he was feeling. She’d felt it when he was gone, when he was…dead. It tore her apart. And that had led her to say some things that she didn’t mean. Like that she didn’t want to be a woman that he loved. She was grateful that he hadn’t let her walk away after that one, because she knew she would have regretted it. She’d walked away from him before, it was one of the biggest mistakes she’d ever made.
All she really wanted was to be the only woman that he loved.
Maybe forever.
Oliver consumed her; the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her...it filled voids inside of her that no one had ever filled. She was enthralled in the way that he loved her; how he said it and showed it, how he’d forced her to feel that deep kind of love even when she was afraid of it.
She’d never felt anything like that. So passionate that it felt like he had sparked a fire inside of her. And in many ways, he had. Her life had felt hollow before him. Now she felt whole, she shared every part of her life with him and she didn’t want it any other way.
He was the most passionate person she had ever met, and she felt lucky that he was passionate about her. Everything he did was intense, and exciting, and raw…and he loved her in the same way.
She turned her face towards him, feeling so lost in him that she couldn’t open her eyes. She smelled him, running her nose through his hair. She pressed her cheek against his, feeling him instinctively nestle her back, his hands caressing her hair.
She felt her climax suddenly, and Oliver cried out as her walls tightened around him, pulsing and pulling him in. They could both feel her climbing, about to fall over the edge. He kept his face buried in her neck, but his hips started moving faster. He slammed into her once, twice, three more times and she was falling.
She cried out, her hands on his waist, pulling him into her as her mouth nestled into his shoulder, biting it harder than she’d intended.
Oliver didn’t seem to notice or mind. He picked his head up, and she opened her eyes to look at him. Oliver grunted, gently bringing his forehead to rest against hers. “I love you,” He whispered.
She closed her eyes, humming in satisfaction and just feeling him, listening to his soft grunts and panting as he lost himself in her body, starting to move inside of her again. She bit her lip, enjoying the dull, tender aftershocks he was causing. She could almost feel him becoming himself again. After everything he’d been through…her heart swelled as she realized that she was healing him.
“Felicity,” he moaned, his eyebrows creasing.
Felicity picked her head up, trailing kisses over his cheeks. She ran her hands over his arms where they caged her in, feeling safe and protected and warm underneath him. “I love you, Oliver. More than anything.” She whispered, dragging her lips along his jaw.
“Felicity!” He cried out, his cock jerking as he emptied himself inside of her. Her name fell from his lips like a prayer, his breath ragged. She stared up at him, watching the pleasure and satisfaction on his face as his muscles shook.
His lips met hers mindlessly as he came down. "Thank you," He mumbled, catching his breath.
Felicity welcomed his weight when he adjusted himself so that he wasn’t crushing her. She hummed as she relaxed beneath him, spreading her legs for him to settle between them. Her eyelids started to feel heavy and she let them close, completely satisfied and happy.
“You’re welcome. Call me anytime you need me to blow your mind.” She smiled, her eyes still shut as he kissed her cheek.
She heard him chuckle, his head resting against her chest. Felicity wrapped both arms around his neck, splaying her hands across his back, fighting off sleep as she ran her hands over his skin, feeling the protruding scars of his past.
She traced the marks, using her fingers to sooth the muscles that needed her attention. She kissed his head, inhaling the familiar, amazing scent of him that she’d been missing for weeks. The man she didn't have to miss anymore.
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Hello good day! Curious about your answer for 2, 6 and 7. :)
Hello!!
2. Do you like the arrowverse? If so what’s your favorite show?
This question is absolutely terrifying because I thought there was only one show. What is besides Arrow?? Genuine question I am scared to google. I’ve heard some stuff about Arrow but haven’t watched it (though I distinctly remember finding a Ra’s Al Ghul from It out of context and being so confused and concerned)
edit I have been informed the other shows are SuperGirl and Flash. I watched an episode or two of flash but just couldn’t hang with it, but otherwise I’ve got nothing. Sorry!!
6. Favorite cannon ship? I’m so bad at shipping otl…. maybe Dick/Starfire? They’ve got a great dynamic
And obviously Diana/Steve
7. Favorite non-cannon ship?Bruce/Happiness
My version of Bruce/Talia where they understood each other but were fundamentally unable to resolve over Ra’s and it’s sad but Bruce is still part of the Family
Thanks!!
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