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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

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“You need a new superhero name.”

Damian brought it up unexpectedly, eyes still trained on the security camera he was dismantling.

“What?” Jon was sifting through the footage, using superspeed to catch every little detail of last night, but at Damian’s voice, he paused the recording and looked up.

Damian was still digging inside the camera, having removed the back panel and a good chunk of wires, and was now sifting through the piece of tech with a pair of tweezers. Nonetheless, he continued the conversation. “A name. You’re not going to be Superboy forever, are you?”

“Um,” Jon could honestly say he’d never thought about it. He’d always been Superboy, ever since he could remember. He wasn’t one to place much thought into birthrights or heritage, not like Damian, but he also wasn’t overlooking the fact that his father was Superman. What exactly did that make him? Superboy was the obvious answer. “I don’t think I can be anything else, Damian.”

“You have an older brother who also goes by Superboy.”

Jon shrugged. “We share.”

“Still. You’re graduating high school in just a few months, Jon. Though it’s surprising to say, you’ve outgrown the title.”

Jon’s lips instantly turned upward in a smirk. “I’ve outgrown the title, huh?”

At that, Damian turned to glare at him. Pointing a finger, he said, “I will taze you. Shut up.”

“Whatever you say, short stack.” Jon chuckled at Damian’s little growl. “But honestly, what else am I supposed to be? Everyone knows me as ‘Superman’s Son.’ I mean, Dad’s name is so big in the League, I don’t think I’ll ever separate myself from it.” And if he was honest, Jon didn’t know if he wanted to separate himself from it.

Damian hummed. “Not true. Look at Richard.”

“Dick? What about him?”

“Well,” Damian paused to move the tweezers to his other hand, “Richard started out as the first child hero, working under Batman. And unlike the other early proteges, he didn’t simply work as his mentor’s sidekick. He created his own legacy. And then he became Nightwing.”

“But Nightwing was already a thing,” Jon pointed out. “It’s a Kryptonian legend.”

“Yes, but there hasn’t actually been a Nightwing, has there? Even if there was one on Krypton, Richard was the first Nightwing on Earth. You wouldn’t call him a sidekick, would you?”

“What, no!” Jon’s reaction was immediate. “Nightwing’s, like, one of the most well-known guys out there. Literally everyone knows him, and literally everyone trusts him. He’s not a sidekick.��

Damian turned to smile at him. “Some would say he was. Do you understand my point?”

Jon pouted, took a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so. I don’t know, I’m not even sure how to go about doing that.”

“Well, to start off, find a new name.” Damian hunched over the camera even more, suddenly focusing in on something.

“I guess so. You got any ideas?” At Damian’s lack of response, Jon asked again, “Damian?”

Damian straightened, holding up the tweezers. Clasped tightly between the tongs was a miniscule data chip. “Here’s the footage we’re looking for.”

Jon stared at him, eyes wide. “How did you even know that was there?”

Damian shrugged. “Simple matter of deductive reasoning.”

“Tim told you, didn’t he.”

A pause. Then, “Drake may have mentioned a while back that a certain trafficking ring was hiding the data chips inside the cameras, and that others were catching on to the trick. I simply tested out his theory.” Damian looked physically pained, and Jon laughed.

“Cool. Put it in, I’ll look through the footage.”

Damian handed the chip over, then laced his his fingers together, put his arms above his head to stretch. Jon, still holding the chip, stared at the line of Damian’s muscles. When Damian quirked an eyebrow, Jon quickly cleared his throat and took the old data chip out of the computer, replacing it with the new one. “So, any ideas?”

“For your name? A couple,” Damian said. “Of course, you need to have an idea for what you’re thinking of.”

Jon nodded absently, pressing rewind on the footage. “I’m not sure if I want to separate from the Super name entirely, though.”

“You don’t want to, or are you scared to?”

Jon snorted. “You probably know the answer to that better than I do. I think I got a name, it’s on the side of the truck.” He zoomed into the footage. “Yeah, it looks we were right. The pharmaceutical company’s related somehow. There’s that stupid gremlin looking thing again.’

“The griffin?” Damian asked, peering over his shoulder. He made a contemplative noise, brows furrowed

“Is that what that thing’s called? Looks like a half drowned bird.”

Damian laughed, and batted Jon’s hands aside. “That’s not what an actual griffin looks like. Here.” He pulled up a couple pictures on his phone.

Jon swiped through a couple pictures, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, those are a lot more impressive. What are they though?”

“Mythological creatures from a variety of different places. They have the body of a lion and the wings and head of an eagle. They’re quite majestic.”

Jon squinted his eyes at him. “You’re implying something. I know you’re implying something.”

In response, Damian nodded his head towards the phone.

“What?” Jon asked.

“Griffin! It’s a perfect name.”

Jon raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Oh yeah. Because I’m part cat and part bird. Perfect analogy.”

Damian slapped his hand lightly. “No, you moron. It doesn’t have anything to do with the eagle or the lion.”

“Then?”

“Your dual heritage.” At Jon’s uncomprehensive look, Damian sighed. “You’re half-Kryptonian, half-human. And it shows. When you fight, you’re fierce and unafraid, much like your father. At the same time, though, you’re endlessly curious and inquisitive, like your mother. God knows I’ve been on the end of that far too often.”

“Oh. That, huh. That actually makes sense.”

Damian shrugged. “I’m just saying. It would be a good homage to your roots, and you’re honoring your parents, without being too overt.”

Jon looked down at the phone again. The lion part was strong, muscled, steady. The bird’s head was curved and fierce, wings spread majestically.

“Griffin. You know what? I kinda like it.”

OKAY SO THIS WASN’T ACTUALLY MY IDEA i read a damijon fic a while back on ao3 where the author had jon’s name as griffin and i thought that was so so cool so i wrote a thing and i tried to find it again to give them credit but i couldn’t find it!!! so if anyone knows the fic i’m talking about, or if you yourself wrote the fic, please let me know so i can link you in the thing. it really was an incredible idea.

tag list: @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg @astroherogirl

and i know you’re not actually on my tag list so sorry for bothering you with this but @iamwhelmed i thought you would appreciate this

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totita030 · 4 years

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Hey, @woahjaybird I told you I really liked your ficlet and then it turned out this, somehow.

(The multiple second parts are even better)

The ficlet is here

#damijon #jondami #that ficlet its very sad #super sons #jonathan kent #superboy #robin #if you haven read it #then go now

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materassassino · 5 years

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86. “Don’t be scared, I’m right here.” OR 87. “You’re so adorable.” DAMIJON

THEY ARE BOTH OF AGE HERE

“You’re so adorable.”

It’s out before Jon can stop himself, and frankly, he doesn’t care. It’sfun to watch Damian’s forehead scrunch up in complete bewilderment.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re adorable,” Jon repeats, grinning from ear to ear. He can’thelp it. He wants to catch this moment and keep it in a bottle forever, sealedtight so he can stare at it and feel the immense warmth he’s feeling right nowwhenever he wants. It’s almost better than the night before, with all its heatand fumbling and too much over-before-it-started, because now he can just… liehere, face-to-face with Damian, and stare at him. Stare at his greengreeneyes and pretty cheekbones and jet-black hair. Stare at the scar over his righteye and his full lips and the hook of his nose, and the way his ears stick out.

Not that he hasn’t been able to stare before, but now… now isdifferent. It’s like they’ve crossed a threshold he wasn’t aware existed, andit feels weird and good and new and familiar all at the same time. It’s beensix years since they first met and while things are the same they’re also completelydifferent and Jon is giddy with it.

Damian frowns. “That is a ridiculous thing to call me,” hemutters, shaking his head. Jon scoots closer, still grinning, still feelingelated. It’s like taking in sunshine but a thousand times better. It’s likesoaring in the great big blue sky over the Kansas plains but so much more so.

“You are though,” he says. Damian rolls his eyes.

“You’re being absurdly sentimental,” he says. The covers shift, andJon’s eyes go wide when fingertips brush his stomach, tentative, cautious,asking permission. Jon gives it by placing his own hand on Damian’s chest. Hecan hear his heartbeat, he always can, his ears fine-tuned to its unique sound,but he can feel it now, beneath his palm. Feel how it’s faster than usual, andhow it matches with the spread of colour across Damian’s cheeks.

Jon moves closer still, wrapping Damian’s arm around his waist. Theair between them is taut now, the atmosphere changed from pure warmth anddelight to something deliciously tense with promise. To his surprise, Damian isthe one to close the distance. His lips are soft, almost questioning, but theymake Jon melt, turn him to putty as he wraps his arms around Damian and pullshim closer, against him, and he sighs in contentment.

#dc comics #damijon #jondami #damian wayne #jon kent #robin #superboy #fluff #prompt ficlet #pixie writes #deepinnocence #42

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g-on-ef · 7 years

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Halloween

Summary: Its Halloween and Jon is taking Damian out for trick-or-treating

Damian did not understand why he was doing this, he had no idea how he agreed to Kent’s idea of them dressing up and going around Metropolis asking strangers for candy.

He really didn’t want to know why he agreed to this foolishness or how he allowed Kent to dress him in a werewolf while Kent was dressed in a red cloak with a long white sleeve shirt and black pants.

All in all he did looked cute in the little red riding hood costume, still he kept questioning why he needed to dress like this and why he needed to participate in this holiday.

He felt a hand grabbing his, looking up he saw Jon giving him a huge smile as he pulled him towards a crowd of people. Now he remembers why he’s doing this, because he has and always will love seeing that smile on Kent.

It started early morning where Jon invited him to his house. When he got there Jon made him carve pumpkins, play in the leaves, and fly kites. Jon also convince him to ride bikes around the farm and watch a few Halloween theme movies. He then showed Damian the costumes he had for them and told him they were going trick-or-treating. Damian wanted to refuse was going to refuse but then he gave him is puppy dog pout and he gave in and now here he was walking the streets of Metropolis while wearing a dog suite.

Still, despite doing this to see his alien smile he had to ask, or at least know why they were doing this.

“Kent, why are we doing this?”

Jon turned to face him and smiled at him, Damian did not blush at seeing his radiant smile.

“Because Damian, this is our first Halloween together and I want to spent it with you,”

“You are aware of the history of Hallow’s Eve are you not?”

Jon laughed and said,

“Nope, and you are not going to ruin this for me, like you did for Valentine’s, Thanksgiving, and every other holiday that I spent with you so you and I are going to be spending this day together and you are going to for once act your age, and have a good time,”

Damian allowed Jon to pulled him to a house that had nothing but jack-o-lanterns, cobwebs, and a few skeletons here and there.

Jon released Damian’s hand-the son of batman did not pout- and knocked on the door he waited patiently for the door to open.

Once it did Jon smiled as the old man looked down at them with a kind smile.

“Trick-or-treat,” he said as he pulled up his basket.

Damian looked at him funny before he repeated Kent’s actions,

“Trick-or-treat?”

The old man smiled as he handed out the candy to both Jon and Damian.

“Nice, costumes boys,” he said smiling at them.

They thanked him as they headed out to the next house.

“Why did that man gave us candy?”

“Because that’s what people do on this holiday; we dress up, walk around and ask for candy, then we go home eat it, and watch horror movies.”

“And why did you say trick-or-treat? What does that even mean?”

“It means give us a treat or we do a trick, granted we don’t do the trick part because it’s mean and we will get in trouble but it’s fun to say, then again some mean people pull tricks because they are butt holes,”

“You mean assholes?” Damian couldn’t help but ask, he also couldn’t help the smirk spreading across his face as his super boy blushed before saying,

“Damian don’t swear!”

Damian couldn’t help but chuckle as he stared at him.

“Still I have to ask, why did you decided to take me to do this?”

“Well…because I wanted you to have a good day, I wanted us to enjoy one of my favorite holidays and just have fun and I’m hoping you are enjoying yourself,”

Damian couldn’t help but look at him, ever since Kent heard him play the melancholic tune from his violent he’s been doing everything and anything to make him smile, and if Damian was honest he was touched, someone other than his brothers was trying to make sure he never dived off the deep end.

Kent was always doing small gestures for him, whenever he was upset he would give him a tiny smile and then ask if he ever wanted to talk he was there for him if he needed him, when he came back from a long mission with the titans Jon would invite him to his house where they would gorge on pizza {pepperoni for Jon and veggie lovers for Damian}, hot wings {only for Jon}, and sweet potato fries for Damian-his mom would make those for him only-and play video games as well as spend time with the barn animals.

All in all Jon did everything to give Damian a normal, relaxing, and fun childhood.

He would never say it but he found it sweet and was happy to have Jon in his life.

Smiling at his friend he decided to let it be, Jon really did went out of his way to make this day special and Damian will play nice and enjoy it.

Taking Jon’s hand and giving it a squeeze he said,

“Well then if we want to get home to watch some good horror movies we should finish gathering candy and head back home,”

Jon’s blue eyes sparkle with happiness as his face broke out in a huge smile.

“Right,” squeezing Damian’s hand the two walked to the house across from them.

Damian smiled as he and Jon enjoyed their first-and hopefully many more to come-Halloween together.

#damijon #damian wayne #jon kent #jonathan kent #super sons #halloween special #writing #my writing #ficlet #fanfiction #halloween

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damijon-supersons · 6 years

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Master list for all my Super Sons fic prompts

Hi! This is the master list for all the fics i’ve done so far in response to the story prompts you guys sent me before and short ficlets that i’ve done. All of them are tagged #fic and #prompt. Thanks so much for the support you’ve given me all the while and I hope you keep enjoying my work :) I know I still got a ton of prompts in my inbox, and I hope I’ll get the free time I need to keep doing them. (Updated as of 5/20/18)

For the Master list of my non-prompt original longer Damijon fics, click here: Original fics

Love Letters - a damijon fic - A short but really sweet fic prompt I did for my damijon discord friends. Jon keeps getting love letters in his school locker, but he can’t tell who they’re from, and there are a lot of them. Updated to include art from my good friend @jaidenstar !!

How does the sunshine die? - an incredibly angsty damijon fic - The third of some angsty fics that I’ve done recently. This was born from a time when I was really inspired to write but the worst prompt i could possibly get in my inbox showed up by way of an anon ask lol. One of the heaviest fics I’ve written, but one that I’m really proud of too. I was just coming off of reading Stephen King’s It, and I still had some inspiration from that wonderful book. Basically...Jon figures out how the sunshine dies.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” - a Damijon fic - The second of some angsty fics that I’ve done recently. Jon always asks Damian one particular qustion that Damian could never bring himself to answer directly. This is my response (in the form of a fic) to the rumors that Brian Michael Bendis taking over the Superman comics might result in Jon getting scrapped as a character.

Superman’s Sword - an angsty damijon fic (sort of) - The first of some angsty fics that I’ve done recently. This was written before Super Sons 14 and Action Comics 1000. A mother tells her child about the story of Superman and why the Superman of their time carries a sword.

Damijon Week Prompt Day 4 (losing control) “Mid-air hugs are pretty cool”- My Day 4 Submission for DamiJon week. After getting kissed by Damian, Jon takes Damian with him back to their farm in Hamilton so that they could have the privacy they need to sort through their feelings for each other. WARNING: Heavily Implied NSFW

Damijon Week Prompt Day 3 (first kiss) “We’re in the closet. Literally.”- My Day 3 Submission for DamiJon week. This was based on the incredible picture that flipityflip made for Day 1 of the week. With her permission, I based my fic on it. Here, Damian and Jon run away from detention and get stuck in a locker together. A really tight one.

Damijon Week Prompt Day 2 (coming out) “I’m Damian and I do not pine! And yes, I’m just fine!” - My Day 2 Submission for DamiJon week. Here, Jon has been away from school for a mission leaving Damian alone. Damian bumps into Maya, and the two have a heart to heart talk about Damian’s not-so-secret secret.

Damijon Week Prompt Day 1 (middleschool AU) “Slice of life? Very poor choice of words…” - My Day 1 Submission for DamiJon week. Here, Jon and Damian are classmates in middleschool and Damian is having a lot of trouble adjusting. Jon tries to comfort him the only way he knows.

Picture Prompt: Hunted by the Son of Night - This short fic is a Jon Vampire Hunter/ Damian Vampire AU that was inspired by artwork from dsasworld. My friend and I on our discord group loved the pic and I was so inspired to write a fic for it, with the artist’s permission. Here, Vampire Hunter Jon is meeting Vampire Damian for a very clandestine and fateful reason.

Picture Prompt: You’re safe in my arms - This is the ficlet I made to accompany my pic commission from laizy-boy. This is based on the Super Sons of Tomorrow crossover arc (Teen Titans #15), where Damian rescues Jon after the latter exploded and fell into San Fran bay.

Prompt: Dark Future’s End - I wrote this before the Super sons of tomorrow arc, but inspired by the idea of it. So an anon asked me if Damian would take the initiative and kiss Jon first. My answer to that is…yea, basically. He totally would. I was motivated to turn that into a cute little story but things got crazy and I somehow ended up with an overly dramatic end-of-the-world scenario.

Prompt: Will I grow up a villain? - An anon asked me to make a story about Damian and Jon playing a game. I chose Injustice 2. At the time, discourse was flaring up about DC giving Damian really bleak futures as an adult. This is my response to that since, in Injustice, Damian turned evil.

Prompt: Baking with the Super Sons - So a friend of mine gave me a quick story prompt about Damian and Jon just cooking together like in a romcom.

Prompt: Who has the best Superboy? - Damian and Tim argue over who has the better super BFF.

Prompt: What if Injustice Damian attacked the main timeline Damian and Bat Family? - I was asked what would happen if Injustice Damian, the grown up one who utterly betrayed Batman, came into the main DC universe and saw that his younger self was loved and adored by his family, and had a best friend in Jon. Long story short, Injustice Damian doesn’t take it very well.

Not exactly a prompt: What if Jon was in injustice? - This isn’t really a story, but an anon asked me what if Jon was in Injustice, and this was my long reply to that. I also couldn’t help but write a tiny little ficlet at the end. This ask informs the injustice prompt i got above.

Prompt: You don’t own this secret spot! - A prompt where Tim and Kon are flying to their secret date spot, except they find that Damian and Jon had beaten them there.

Prompt: Babysitting the Super Brats - Tim and Kon just wanted some alone time, but they get saddled with the responsibility of looking after their youngest siblings.

Prompt: I can’t protect you! - Originally a prompt where Jon doesn't want Damian to go on a dangerous mission because he’s at risk of getting killed. I turned it into an end of the world scenario, because of course I did :p Written in Jon’s POV.

Prompt: Dick’s Robin outfit does not fit Jon - Because Jon lost a dare with Damian, he now has to wear Dick Grayson’s original Robin gear. Yep, underwear and all.

Prompt: Maya’s Surprise - Supposedly part of a 5+1 thingie where people walk in on Damian and Jon kissing. It’s Maya’s turn, and well, she gets way more than she bargained for. This actually a censored version lol. The slightly more graphic version is on my ao3.

Prompt: Damian’s death anniversary - Jon accompanies Damian as the latter remembers the day he died. This prompt was really hard to write, because of all the emotion that Damian would have had to deal with.

Prompt: A TimKon Damijon double date - Damian and Jon are forced to go on a double date with Tim and Kon. They go eat dinner and then play laser tag, with a bet that the loser has to do what the winner wants.

Prompt: Super Puppy Love Epilogue: Why there’s a naked Damian in Jon’s bed - this was originally a story prompt but in the end I turned it into the epilogue of one of my better fics, which you can find over here: (Super Puppy Love: Damian finds out Jon has a crush on him and decides to have fun with it.)

Prompt: Board games with the Super Sons and the Bat Bros - Damian and Jon join the older Wayne boys for some games. What they don’t know is that the Bat Boys have already guessed just how much the two of them feel for each other.

Prompt: Everybody walks in on Damian and Jon making out - My first-ever prompt! Apparently, a 5+1 thingie where various people walk in on Damian and Jon snogging each other in some way :p

#prompt #fic #super sons #supersons #Damian Wayne #jonathan samuel kent #jonathan kent #damijon #robin #superboy #timkon #tim drake #conner kent #kon el #batman #superman #DC

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damian-jon-love · 7 years

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DamiJon Headcanon

Send me your DamiJon/JonDami/Supersons headcanons and I will write a ficlet!

#damijon #jondami #supersons #supersons hc #damijon imagine #damijon hc #jondami hc #jondami headcanon

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 4 months

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A Collection of You and I

by BeautyInTheLibrary A collection of short ficlets for DamiJon that I was inspired by from various prompts, fan art and where ever writers get smacked in the face with ideas that possesses them until they are forced to write it out for everyone to read. :D Each chapter is unrelated, will have it's own summaries/warnings. The main warning there will be is how stupid cute these two are and Jon is gonna float off into space from tummy butterflies. Words: 709, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 16 of DamiJon Fandoms: Robin: Son of Batman (Comics), Son of Batman (2014), Batman and Superman: Battle of the Super Sons (Movie 2022), Superman - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types, Super Sons (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Jonathan Kent, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Jon Lane Kent/Damian Wayne, Jon Kent/Damian Wayne Additional Tags: Fluff, Romance, Drabbles, Ficlet Collection, Humor, Young Love, prompt series, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Kryptonian's Float When They're Giddy, Chapters have additional tags/warnings via https://ift.tt/rp8D4nC

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the caped crusader #gotham #dcu #dc #ao3 #ao3feed

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

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Damijon Secret Santa

@woahjaybird happy holidays ris!!!!!!!!!! i admit, i was a bit confused, bc you signed up for a ship fic exchange and requested platonic bros, but whatever. i hope you like it!

To be honest, it was something Damian said a lot.

Jon heard those words practically every time Damian opened his mouth: in the middle of a mission, when they were baking pies with Ma Kent, during a stakeout, on a rooftop eating takeout.

They used to be annoying. God, sometimes Jon just wanted to drop his restraint and punch Damian in the face, full-force. Especially when he said those words, again and again and again. Over time, though, Jon grew used to them, and after a while, they just began to amused him.

You should be afraid of me.

Because Jon never understood those words. What was there to be scared of?

The two of them were sitting on a rooftop in Metropolis, Jon with his long legs dangling over the side of the building, Damian cross-legged next to him. Taking a long slurp of his smoothie, Jon glanced over at Damian, who was outlining their plan of attack for tomorrow-- a mission to take down an arms dealer who had been working out of Metropolis for months. With Dad stretched thin over League, international, and intergalactic affairs, criminals were becoming a little less hesitant to step foot into the city. Superboy and Robin would be taking care of that soon.

Jon was listening, he really was. The battle plans were definitely lodging themselves somewhere in Jon’s subconsciousness. But he had to admit, most of his attention was fixed firmly on Damian himself.

Jon remembered the days the prickly young boy would throw his nose up haughtily in the air, state he’d been intelligent enough to have a doctorate at seven years old, and miff at anyone who insinuated otherwise. It was a far sight from when Damian had curled himself up on Jon’s bed, and under the guise of watching a movie, told Jon about his acceptance into the most prestigious art schools in Gotham.

And that was the reason behind Jon’s inattention, wasn’t it? Damian was eighteen, now. Their age difference didn’t seem like much when they were ten and thirteen and going against the world with all the confidence of a couple boys playing pretend. Now, Damian had a weariness in his shoulders, but lips that quirked up into a smile far too often, skin layered in scars but hands gentler than Jon ever thought he was capable of. Jon himself was a fumbling, awkward fifteen year old with jeans that were always too short, hair that was always too messy. And Jon used to think he was over feeling inferior to his best friend.

He’d miss him. Jon would miss Damian so much. Sure, Damian would probably try and keep their visits somewhat consistent, but work would pile up, and a curator would probably see Damian’s talents and whisk him away to the world of the famous artists, and Damian would forget he ever had a friend named Jon and would go on to become a household name while Jon spent the rest of his life living in his parents’ house and updating his mediocre blog that he started because of a dare.

No, he wasn’t being dramatic, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, Damian seemed to catch onto his lack of attention and snapped his fingers underneath Jon’s nose, startling him back to focus.

Never one to sugarcoat, Damian said, “You look miserable.”

“What? No, I’m fine!” Jon didn’t know why he even tried to play it off, he’d never been able to lie to Damian.

“Right. My mistake. Someone who was fine would definitely spend the past hour drinking out of a smoothie cup that’s already empty.”

Huh. Jon hadn’t even realized he’d finished the drink. He put it to the side and shook his head. “Really, it’s not a pro-oblem.” Oh, goddamnit.

“Your voice cracks are ridiculous,” Damian informed him. Why had Jon ever thought he’d changed? That smug voice was as irritating as ever.

“Yeah, they’re hilarious, thanks.”

“I don’t understand why you’re upset.” Apparently, this matter was serious enough for Damian to put his map down. Wasn’t that comforting?

But Jon had never liked to keep things from his best friend. “That. That’s what’s bothering me.”

“Your voice cracks?” Now Damian just sounded confused.

“Yes! No, I don’t know. I just don’t like them.” Jon crossed his arms in frustration.

When he looked over at Damian, the other boy’s eyes were wide, and in that stupidly deep and non-cracking voice, he said, “This conversation has gone well past the point of understanding and I’m going to continue with the plan now.”

Jon sighed. “No, Damian, it’s not that.”

“Then?”

Searching for the right words, Jon drummed his fingers together. “You...you’re going off to that fancy art school soon. You’re all grown up. And here I am with my stupid video games and voice cracks.”

Jon wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting. Damian could never be called a master of social interaction, and his basic settings were sarcastic, condescending, or incredulous. Still, Jon expected something a bit kinder than:

“You’re such a moron, Jonathan.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Jon stared at Damian for a moment, blinking stupidly. “So I tell you about the problem that’s been eating me up for weeks, and all you say is that I’m a moron? Thank you so much for that.”

“I’m telling you you’re a moron because you’re worrying about something so inconsequential.”

“Oh please, do elaborate.”

Damian paused, then let out a tired sigh, turning to face Jon. This was going to be a serious conversation, then.

“Jonathan. I have told you time and time again. You should be scared of me-”

“Oh my god,” Jon interrupted. “This stuff, again?” He was laughing now. “I know, I know. You should be horrified, cower in terror underneath my ruthlessness, blah blah blah. You say it all the time, I get it. I should be scared of you.”

Damian stared at him. “Are you done?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m tired of you bringing up the same thing over and over, Damian.”

“And in saying that, you just proved my point.”

Jon frowned in confusion. “What?”

“I’ve always said that you should be afraid of me. But you never have been, not since the moment we met.”

“Like there’s anything to be scared of.”

“Yes, Jonathan. There is.” Damian looked Jon in the eye, his gaze sharp and serious.

Damian’s honesty was strange, something Jon wasn’t used to, so he tried to play it off with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, assassin training’s tough-”

“When I was six years old, I murdered a man in front of his daughter.”

Jon fell silent.

“I used to command an entire legion in my grandfather’s army. We completely destroyed and took down three different countries.”

“Damian, I-”

“Once, Grandfather put me in a straightjacket and wrapped me in chains, surrounded by trained guards, with no instruction other than to escape. And I did.”

Hesitantly, Jon said, “I never knew.”

“Because I never told you. That, and so much more, is why everybody I ever know has been scared of me.”

“Even Nightwing?”

“Nightwing grew out of it eventually,” Damian admitted. “But everyone else. The rest of the bats. Father. Even Mother. There’s fear in their eyes when they look at me.”

“Oh. Uh,” Jon shrugged. “That sucks.”

“That sucks?” Damian said, dry but amused.

“I didn’t know what else to say!” Jon defended.

“See? That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Jon furrowed his eyebrows. “You’ve been trying to tell me it sucks? Because I already knew it sucks.”

“Jonathan…” Damian trailed off, then grabbed Jon’s wrists with his own hands.

“Hey!” Jon protested, though only out of surprise. Because Damain’s hands were warm and his thumb was pressing down on Jon’s pulse point and Jon could honestly say he had no objection to this.

Damian’s face showed nothing but piercing intensity: brows furred and eyes locked on Jon’s own. “Jon. Look me in the eyes, and tell me you’re scared of me.”

“But I’m not?”

“I just told you things that would have grown men running away from me in terror. Tell me at least some of that scares you.”

“No,” Jon shook his head and gripped the other’s boy’s wrists back. “No. I’m not scared of you.”

Letting out a breath, Damian moved away. For a moment, Jon found himself chasing that warmth.

“You are the only person who’s ever thought that.” Damian turned, shifting to mirror Jon’s position. Staring out over the city, a billboard washed colours over Damian’s face. He looked like a work of art, and Jon had no idea how anybody could ever fear him.

“You’re my best friend, Damian.” Jon shrugged, despite the fact that Damian couldn’t see him. “I’ve seen you scream at a machine for losing at Cheese Viking. I’ve seen you befriend a little squirrel you found on Ma’s farm. So how exactly am I supposed to be afraid of you?”

Damian nodded, as if that solidified something. “If you really think that I would leave the only person that isn’t scared of me, if you think that I would stop being friends with someone who has always thought of me as a human first and a weapon second just because I’m going to a university, then you are the biggest moron to ever walk the face of the earth.”

Stunned, Jon moved to sit next to Damian. “Oh.”

Jon had always been aware of their height difference, made plenty of jokes about it, but it really struck him how much smaller Damian was when the older boy turned to look up and smile at him. “So stop worrying, okay Kent? It’s unbecoming.”

“Whatever you say,” Jon acquiesced.

Damian wasn’t leaving for good. Damian, with his burning green eyes and molten beauty, still wanted to be friends with him.

With a smile on his face, Jon turned to look out at the city, letting the quiet wash over him. At his side, Damian did the same. A huge thank you to @iamwhelmed for organizing the secret santa this year!!

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @iconbicon

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years

Text

Whenever Talia looked her son in the eyes, she recoiled. No matter how old Damian grew, she could never bring herself to meet his gaze. She had created someone more powerful, more ruthless than herself, than even Ra’s. And the thought of that terrified her.

The first time Bruce met Damian, he was scared. Here was this boy with more blood on his hands than most assassins claiming to be his son. Bruce was completely unprepared for this, had no idea how to react, had no idea whether or not his son even loved him. He knew nothing about him, which made him scared.

Dick had changed over the years, had grown to trust Damian implicitly. Yet, that same anxiousness was written on his face, plain as day when Bruce first introduced him to Damian, was still there, even years later. Despite knowing Damian inside and out, as good as family, he could never predict exactly what Damian would do. Dick loved him, Damian knew that for a fact, but he was always on edge, always anxious.

Jason felt intimidated by him. He was used to being the ticking time bomb of the family, and he didn’t know what to do with Damian. Didn’t know how to handle him. Jason could relate to Damian just beneath enough, just beneath being able to form a relationship. They got there in the end, of course. But Jason never stopped feeling out of his depth.

Tim was frightened, of course he was frightened. Tim Drake threw his entire being into loving a very small, specific set of people. Damian was not part of that specific set of people, until he was. And then Tim grew frightened both of him and for him. He knew what it was like to hover close to the edge of breaking, and he knew Damian was there more often than he’d like to admit. Even as they grew close, Tim never lost that edge of fright.

Damian knew all of this. Of course he did.

The first time Damian met Jon, he stabbed him. Jon just looked confused. Then he asked if Damian wanted to eat ice cream. Damian declined the ice cream, but accepted the homemade apple pie. Jon chattered awkwardly about anything that came to mind, trying to make up for Damian’s utter silence. But he plopped himself right next to Damian, uncaring of the several knives strapped to Damian’s belt and shoes. He did the same thing when Damian showed up in the middle of the night, ordering him on a mission. And when he crash landed through his window with several wounds after an encounter with ninjas. And when he snuck into Jon’s room after a particularly vicious fight with Bruce.

And Damian thinks, that’s why. That’s why, despite the other boy’s utter ridiculousness and naivety, despite his constant blabbering and nose scrunches of disapproval, Damian always came back to him. Because Jon was never afraid.

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years

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Happy Birthday Whelm!

@detectivedamian your birthday gift is a damijon ficlet. enjoy.

For the life of him, Jon couldn’t really understand why Damian liked football. Jon himself had grown up with the game, playing with Clark and Kon. Clark had laughed loud and bright as he tossed the ball around in the farm. Kon had challenged Jon to a high-stakes game that combined four different games using the football in the air. (Jon suspected Kon’s game was secretly a training exercise. The guy had been spending too much time around Tim.) He was on the team in middle school, and he’d been the captain of the high school team for the past three years. The training, the drills, the thrill of the game, the feeling of team: these were things that Jon lived for. Other than fighting, nothing else quite made his blood sing.

But Damian? Jon had never expected Damian to take to it the way he did. Damian had scoffed at most American traditions and values, insulted people to their face, and complained about the school system enough times that Jon had the lecture memorized. (He was ahead in almost every class due to Damian’s passive-aggressive tutoring, though, so he’s not exactly complaining.)

Maybe it was the strategy behind it, the different plays and plans Coach had lined up. Tim was the best at that kind of stuff, Jon knew that firsthand, but most people seemed to forget Damian had been trained in strategy and war games in the league. And “war games” was exactly how Damian seem to take this. Ever since Jon had let Damian watch one of his football practices and Damian had stopped the team in the middle of a play to plot out three different holes in their offense, Damian had practically become an honorary team member. Unless it was calculated, the team hadn’t lost a single game. And Damian was determined to keep it that way.

Tonight, just before the final game of the season, Jon’s team was facing off against Central City. (Which? How did they even get to finals in the first place? Central was known for their all-star track team, spanning generations of Allens and Wests, but football? That was a new one.) Damian had given the coach a particularly loathesome glare, and the other team looked terrified without even starting the game. Sometimes Jon forgot how scary Damian was, but it situations like this, it was useful. They had their game plan mapped out, Damian had given each one of them a talking to, Johansson don’t you dare leave your place, Zizka we’ve been running drills so don’t lose your speed, Williamson stop hesitating, you’re on offense for a reason.

Jon had come up to him cheekily and asked what he needed to do. Damian had raised an eyebrow and said “Don’t suck as much as you usually do, Kent.” His lips were in a half smirk, though, and his tongue curled viciously around Jon’s last name and Jon had to swallow and take a step back.

Regardless, here they were. The big game. Either they won this, and Jon left senior year a happy man, or Damian would never ever let him live it down. There was really only one option here. Jon made eye contact with Damian, who nodded, once. Then, the whistle blew and the game was on.

Things were going good. No, that’s an understatement, things were going great. They ripped apart the opposing team’s strategy like paper, leaving the shredded pieces on the ground as they went through play after successful play. Jon could practically feel the other team’s hopelessness, could taste the sweet, sweet victory in the air. Halftime came and Jon’s team was soaring high. Don’t get overconfident, Damian warned them, but a proud grin was tugging at the edge of his lips.

The third quarter is when it all went wrong. Williamson went down, hard. Jon heard the crack from across the field, and hoped the injury wasn’t too bad as he chased after the ball, desperate to keep it out of enemy hands. It was too late, though, the other team was in possession. He could feel Damian’s furious scowl, see his dad’s worried eyes fixed on the game even as his mom shouted in Central’s general direction. The third quarter ticked by, losing most of the ground they had gained.

The fourth and final quarter came, the team abiding by Damian’s quickly thought out plan, hesitantly regaining their footing. But it was too little, too late. They weren’t going to make it. The clock swallowed up seconds, and Central gained the lead, though Jon’s team clawed and fought their way to make sure it was only by a little. There were thirteen seconds left on the clock, and Central was 5 points ahead. The play was at the far end of the field.

The only way for them to win was for someone to run across most of the length of the field and score a touchdown. And as the ball came hurtling towards Jon, time slowed down, and he contemplated doing just that.

He could make it, he knew he could make it. A touch of superspeed, a hint of strength when pushing the other players out of the way, and they’d win the game. And Jon was only using his own talents, right? But that felt wrong, it felt so wrong. It felt like cheating. Abruptly, Jon remembered all the drills Damian had put him through, for both football and hero-ing, how he had told Jon you can’t always rely on your powers. He remembered the determination in every line of Damian’s body, whether it was in the sidelines of one of Jon’s games or standing back-to-back with Superboy as Robin, facing down impossible odds yet again. Damian had trained him for this. He had trained for this. He could do this.

Jon dropped his invulnerability, tapped out of his strength, tapped out of his superspeed. Time returned to normal. This was it.

The ball flew into Jon’s outstretched hands like it was meant to be there, and the minute it made contact, Jon took off running. Feet pounding the grass, heartbeat thumping in his ears, the bright lights overlooking the fields. Jon ducked and weaved through the other players, pushing himself to go faster, faster. The people in the stands were building up a roar. The clock was ticking down. He just ran and ran and ran until-

Jon crossed the end zone line and slammed the football on the ground with every bit of normal strength he had. The buzzer went off: time was up, the scores were in.

They won the game.

The crowd was bursting up and cheering. Jon could hear his mom’s screams, his dad’s wolf whistles. The team crowded around Jon, yelling and jumping, their faces overflowing with joy as they clustered around him. Coach had the trophy, and he held it above his head, pumping it up and down, whooping his pleasure. He handed it over to Jon, and wow. It felt solid, heavy, almost unreal. Jon held it up so everyone on the team could put their hand around it.

Then, for some reason the crowd around Jon parted. Jon was confused, because there was practically nothing that could separate the team at a time like this. Then he looked up, and understood. Damian stood there, a wild and reckless grin on his face, and Jon’s breath caught. He was wearing Jon’s football jacket, the fabric clinging to his shoulders over his tight black turtleneck and proclaiming a statement as bold as night. He walked over to Jon, confident and sure, and looked up at Jon, pride in his eyes.

“You won.”

“Yeah, we did.” Jon’s voice was breathless.

Damian’s grin widened. “Congratulations.”

And then he was pulling Jon in for a kiss, hard and fierce and unforgiving. Startling for just a second, Jon drew Damian in, surprised but pleased when he came willingly. He kissed back with the same passion that had his feet pounding the ground, the same fervor that had his blood singing all throughout the game, reveling in the feeling of Damian pulling him to the ground, biting his lips, claiming him.

He drew back and gasped in air, wide-eyed and lighter than air, as the whoops and catcalls of the team around him filtered into Jon’s brain.

“I-you, you kissed me.”

“You deserved it.” Something in Damian’s tone let Jon knew that Damian knew. He knew what Jon was thinking on the field, knew he was about to use his powers, and knew that he ultimately decided against it. He knew that Jon put every ounce of his determination to win this game by himself, and Damian was proud.

Yeah, football brought out the best in Jon. And maybe that was why Damian enjoyed it so much.

This was cheesy as FUCK oh my GOD. I have no knowledge of how football works, don’t hold it against me. Once again, happy birthday Whelm! tag list: @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @comicsandhoney @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg @thebatsandbirdsofgotham @astroherogirl @subtleappreciation

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

Text

You Don’t Have To

Happy Birthday @screennamealreadyused !! Your birthday gift is a damijon ficlet. I get the feeling you like overdramatic, soap-opera-y fics based on the kinda stuff you come up with in the server, so hopefully that came across.

What Jon didn’t think other people realized was that Damian, if comfortable enough, enjoyed talking. Of course, the subjects he was interested in were a tad limited, and he mentioned decapitation too often for Jon’s liking, but he enjoyed it. Barring Nightwing, Jon doubted anyone had ever taken the time to sit and listen to what Damian had to say, but Nightwing was his own adult superhero with his own adult life. And despite the fact that Damian was prickly and rude, his holier-than-thou attitude absolutely infuriating, his tendency to just drag Jon wherever he wanted despite the fact that Jon could technically crush him with one foot, despite all of that, Jon decided he wanted to be Damian’s friend. He was interesting, loud and abrasive in a way Smallville never boasted.

Today it was cows. Ma Kent had let Damian milk some of the cows, and now, sitting on the roof of the barn, licking melting ice cream drops off their hands, Damian was telling Jon the story of a couple bulls Ra’s had bought.

“You ever think about going to go visit them?” Jon asked.

“Jon,” Damian said dryly. “Grandfather killed the bulls a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

“Also,” Damian’s voice had dropped, going quiet in a purposefully shy way that Jon had never heard before, “I’m not even sure I would be welcomed back.”

“What?” Jon said, almost on instinct. “That’s nuts! I mean, I know your Grandad is a crazy assassin or something, but your mom...she loves you right?”

“She does,” Damian said, then added, “sort of.”

“You can’t only sort of love someone,” Jon said, because Mom was sharp and pointy, her lips turned up in a smirk as she chased down a story, her fingernails tapping on a paper pad. But she tried to make Jon cookies even though she always burnt them and called Kon over so they could do their nails together and told Jon bedtime stories and she loved him.

Damian hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. “My mother wanted a perfect son. One she could use to reclaim her supposed place by Father’s side, one that would take over Batman title.”

“But...” Jon urged on.

“But I don’t think Batman was ever meant to be a legacy, not the way Robin or Batgirl were. And,” Damian paused, growing so quiet Jon had to use his superhearing to make out what Damian mumbled. “I don’t really want to be Batman.”

Damian cringed, as if expecting Jon to say something cutting, something admonishing. Jon just said the first thing that came into his head.

“You don’t have to.”

Startled, Damian looked up. “What?”

“You don’t have to,” Jon repeated. “You don’t have to be Batman if you don’t want to. You can be some other hero, or even make your own name.”

“I can’t just do that!”

“Sure you can,” Jon said. “What’s stopping you?”

“My mother, I think. Also, I suppose it’s just expected of me.”

“Nah,” Jon said, finishing off the last of his ice cream. “No one’s expecting you are forcing you to do anything. If you don’t want to be Batman, you don’t have to be Batman.”

Damian eyed him suspiciously. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“Maybe not,” Jon shrugged. “But I’ll back you up.”

“She wants me to come back,” Damian whispered, his voice drowned out by the chirping of crickets outside, the sunset approaching.

“What?” Jon asked, scrambling to sit up. His limbs move awkwardly on the bed, moving with the exact opposite of grace, the way most teenagers were known for. But as Damian pulled himself into a seated position, curling up his legs, Jon saw nothing but control and elegance. “Who wants you to come back?”

“My mother.”

“Woah, your mother?,” Jon bounced over to sit next to Damian. “And she wants you to come back to...what? The League of Assassins.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jon poured every ounce of incredulity he could muster into his voice. “You’re a hero. You’re not an assassin anymore.”

Damian shrugged, limbs taught and face stony.

“Hold on. Damian. You’re not actually thinking of going with her, right?”

“She’s my mother,” Damian said helplessly. “And though she hasn’t always been the best one, she seemed sincere the last time she asked.”

“Let’s go back to the part where you said she hasn’t always been the best mother, because she hasn’t, at all.”

“What do you want me to say, Kent?” Damian demanded. “By blood, she is my mother. By blood, I am an al Ghul!”

“You don’t have to be.”

“It’s not about being, Jonathan. You cannot change what you are.”

“No,” Jon said thoughtfully. “You can’t change Talia being your mom. But you don’t have to be an al Ghul.”

“That’s what her being my mother means, moron.”

“Well by that logic, Dick’s not your brother,” Jon pointed out.

“What!?”

“He’s a Grayson. He was never adopted by Bruce, and he never changed his name either. By blood, he’s a Grayson, and he can’t change who he is.”

Damian was silent, and Jon felt a little surge of pride at being able to render Damian speechless. But there was a time for gloating, and this wasn’t it. “See? Just because you were born an al Ghul doesn’t mean you have to be one of them. You can be a Wayne, with your dad! Or a Grayson. Or maybe even a Pennyworth!”

“Being a Pennyworth does seem like rather intriguing idea,” Damian said, and he was agreeing with Jon, but drawing closer into himself, huddling up into a little ball. So Jon scooted a little closer and, projecting his movements, wrapped his arms around Damian. Damian didn’t relax into it, but made no move to stop Jon or shift away, so Jon kept holding on.

“Just stick with being Damian for now,” Jon said. “You can figure everything else out later.”

Damian hummed in acknowledgement and slowly, oh so slowly, leaned into Jon’s hug. Privately, Jon didn’t know what he’d do if Damian ever decided to leave and become an assassin. You’d think someone like him would have tons of friends, but Jon’s terrible attempts at secrecy and the way he tried to distance himself in order to keep his powers in check turned most people away. That and being miles ahead of everyone else in class due to Damian’s tutoring (I will not stand to have an associate who is of such low intellectual level) led to Damian being the best of his few friends. He would not handle Damian leaving very well at all.

But he knew that was the last thing Damian wanted to hear. So Jon simply hugged him for a little while, until Mom called them down to dinner.

Jon tried and failed to track Damian’s movements, eyes latching onto his best friend. Exercising to work off anger was apparently a saying Damian took to heart, because Damian had shown up at his house in the middle of the day and, after avoiding Jon’s questions, had paced around the living room, somehow angrily done a backflip and scoffed, saying how he was just as capable of acrobatics to a very confused Jon, and was now doing push-ups.

And the view was—the view was really nice if Jon was being honest with himself, but he was sick of Damian ignoring him. So, he sighed and walked over to Damian, plopping down on his back and folding his legs.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on,” Jon said.

Damian had been startled into pausing when Jon first made his way over, but soon restarted his reps, and snarled, “I don’t need your help, Kent.”

“Well clearly you do, since you showed up at my house on a weekend seething mad.”

“I’m not seething mad.”

“You’re doing anger push-ups.”

“I am not doing anger push-ups. Those aren’t even a thing.”

“Then what exactly are you doing right now?”

Damian was silent.

Jon made an exasperated noise. He’d sworn to break through Damian’s emotional constipation a long time back, but it clearly wasn’t working. “Damian,” Jon said, stressing each syllable. “Tell me why you’re mad.”

For a minute, Jon thought Damian was going to ignore him entirely. Then, all at once, Damian burst out, “She wants Robin!”

“Who?” Jon asked, though there could only be one candidate.

It was like a dam broke. “Mar’i. She wants Robin. It’s not like she hasn’t been training for it, and I was someone who helped with her training.”

“But you’re not ready to give it up.”

“No,” Damian said quietly. “I didn’t realize how much I relied on the role. I have to be Robin.”

“You don’t. You don’t have to be Robin.”

“Yeah,” Damian sighed. “And I want to give it to her, I really do. I want to pass down Robin so Mar’i looks up to me like right now, instead of ending up with a relationship between their replacements like my brothers. And I don’t even want to imagine how Grayson will feel about it if there’s a fight.”

“You don’t need it, Damian. You’re just scared.”

“Robin was the thing that gave me purpose outside my old life. It’s what made me a hero instead of a villain.”

“Giving it up won’t turn you into a villain either,” Jon hopped off Damian’s back. Holding a hand out, Jon said, “Come on. I think an early patrol will help the both of us. You don’t have to be Robin, and I’m gonna show you that you can still be a hero without it.”

Jon wasn’t exactly sure when the title of “Official Damian Wayne Translator” switched from Dick to him. Granted, the two of them spent a lot of time together, and he knew Damian better than himself.

Then again, that was the problem, wasn’t it.

A bunch of random heroes will just show up in Jon’s dorm room and demand Jon talk some sense into Damian, or work through his problems, or do something to make him less unbearable. And usually, Jon did it.

He listened to Damian’s complaints without hesitation, talked through his struggles and worries attentively. And he never once asked for anything in return.

He knew how hopelessly gone he was. Damian was his best friend, Damian trusted him like no one else. It made Jon feel special, though it really shouldn’t. Because Damian sure didn’t think he was special.

Some small, spiteful part of himself wanted to say something the next time Damian came over with a set of problems for Jon to solve. To say sorry, he had an important assignment due and he had to finish. To say he really didn’t have the time, maybe Damian could come back later. To say he was sick and tired of Damian taking him for granted, for believing Jon would always be there to support him no matter what.

But one look at those eyes filled to the brim with trust and Jon’s resolve crumbed. There were very few people in the world Damian trusted, and Jon would do anything to make sure he never fell off that list.

So he sucked it up, stayed quiet, stayed kind, stayed helpful.

Until Damian came to him one day asking him how to ask a guy out.

“Stop,” Jon whispered, feeling something inside him crack. “Just stop.”

“I—what?”

“You have no right being so cruel.”

Damian stared at him, a hint of apprehensiveness in his face. “What are you talking about?”

“As if you don’t know, Damian. Your family is full of detectives, there’s no way you don’t know.” Oh no, Jon’s voice was starting to waver, but he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t control it, couldn’t pull himself together long enough to tell Damian this one thing. “And I was okay with it, because you didn’t really like anyone. But apparently that’s not true. You just don’t like me.”

Jon looked up at Damian and saw nothing but shock in those green eyes.

“But you need to stop,” Jon continued. “Stop always assuming I’ll be there for you, stop treating me like your personal therapist or whatever, stop taking me for granted.”

“I don’t—” Damian tried to whisper, but Jon cut him off.

“Because I don’t think I can take it anymore,” Jon said, and his voice was entirely too raw for his comfort, so he took a breath to gain some semblance of control. “I’m sorry. I really can’t help you with that. But I can still be your friend.”

There was silence, a thick, heavy silence. Jon opted to stare at the floor, watching his feet fidget nervously.

Then, “You don’t have to.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to. Be just my friend, I mean,” Damian clarified.

“You...you really—what?”

“I didn’t know, Jon,” Damian said, sounding almost ashamed. “I swear I didn’t. If I had, well,” Damian trailed off, stepping closer and looking up at Jon, his face filled with pain.

He tugged Jon down into a kiss, and Jon could barely process what was happening, but Damian was kissing him, so he responded mindlessly. When Damian pulled back, though, he realized the other boy was saying something, over and over and over.

“I’m sorry,” Damian breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

It was like a slap to the face. Damian never said sorry. He fixed the problem, sometimes avoided it outright, or gave a halfhearted, forced excuse. All those years with the Bats had done little to his pride. But here he was, gripping Jon’s arms and apologizing, asking for Jon’s forgiveness like he meant it.

“I never meant to make you feel like that,” Damian “I would never, I swear. You’re my best friend, and I thought that meant being able to talk to you about anything.”

“You can, you always can,” Jon was quick to reassure him.

Damian shook his head. “But I never offered you the same in return. And that was awful of me and I’m sorry. I’ll,” Damian’s voice faltered. “I’ll apologize as many times as I need if it means I still have you.”

“You don’t have to,” Jon assured him. “It’s okay, you mean it, I can tell.” Then, he leaned down to kiss Damian once more, and mumbled against his lips, “You’ll always have me.”

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg @iconbicon

#scribbles from the swamp #long post #damian wayne #jon kent #robin #superboy #damijon #dc #damian wayne fic #jon kent fic #robin fic #superboy fic #damijon fic #dc fic

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iphoenixrising · 5 years

Text

Updated Masterlist Part 1

Hi peeps. Ah, @shmoo92 put so much work into this I can’t even say thank-you enough :D

The link for Part 2 is at the bottom ;)

DC AOB AUs

AOB Attempt(DickTimJay; alpha!DickJay, omega!Tim):

the Before: DickJay Apart & Together | Omega!Tim & the Titans | Vocabulary & Instincts & Rut mechanics

the Future Bonding | Mating Bite (for 300 followers!) | Baby: One & Two & Three & Four

AOB AUs:

Waving Back at Me: Brainstorm & Link

omega!Tim doessn't hide UA

Reverse AOB (alpha!Tim): DickTim Backstory | One & Two & Three & for 600 followers! Headcanons: omega!Jason & Thinking about ... good alpha!Tim Alpha!Dami presents Alpha!Tim helping Alpha!Dami & JayTim

No Home for Dead Birds:

on Tumblr | on AO3

background | DickTim: their beginning | Dick leaving Tim something (HC)

"Two Years Ago" (for 100 followers!) (for 100 followers!) | One | Slightly Happier | Two

Home for Tiny Birds (with Tiny!Tim!): NHFDB!Tim visits Tiny!Tim (see also "Tiny!Tim UA" and "Convergence") Re:700 followers: JayTim vs NHFDB (see also "JayTim")

Ten.One: Ōrāre | Ten.Two: Actum | Kon & Kents | Suicide | What-If: Tim Leaves Gotham

What 'family' Means (HC) | the Red Hood | Dick Grayson

Photos | End Point | KonTimBart Dancing

Dick and Tim and Jay in some combination:

DickTim

Misc Ficlets: The night the Flying Graysons Died | Tarantula (HC) | Birthday, Dick & Tim & their parents (HC) NSFW: The Suit (for 400 followers!) & Worth the Wait | Soul Mark

The BodySwap The Swap & The Fallout & The Follow-Up (for 300 followers!)

Time Travel: Links & One & Two

Detective!Dick AU: Red Hood!Tim au (for my babe @poison-basil) & art! | Civillian!Tim au

Dom!Dick/sub!tim AU: One & Sub!Tim w/o Sex!!! & Continuation?

DickTimJay

Destroyed!UA: One & Two (NSFW) & Three; HC | Tim Stays | Interest (see also "BatFam")

Fic Rec: On the Clock by chibinightowl

JayTim

De-Aged Jay(based on fanart): Ficlet | HC

Night Call (Stripper!AU; NSFW): One & Two & Three

Praise Kink (NSFW): Ficlet | PodFic (& my take on a Gotham Accent) | Heart-to-Motherfucking fist

Bad Idea: (Space Salvagers AU): Ficlet & HC

Fic Recs: Are you Trying to Kill Me? by chibinightowl

Tim-centric:

Tim (art rec)

Caroline: TimKon | DickTimJay & NSFW drab based of @curdleddoodle' s amazing art

Masterlist Part 2!

#masterlist #wintersnight #iphoenixrising #tim drake-centric fics #mostly #part 1

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