#except oh wait he /did/ think it meant something was upsetting jason and THAT'S WHY HE BENCHED HIM
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Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.
Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…
Well, it was okay. For about a month.
Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—
Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.
Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.
Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).
A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.
—*—*—*—*—*
“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?
“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”
“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”
Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”
Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”
Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.
“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”
Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.
Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.
“Is that a kid?”
“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.
“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.
“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”
“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.
“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”
“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.
He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.
But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.
That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.
“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”
That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.
“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.
She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.
“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”
“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.
“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”
“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.
Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“
“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“
“Language, Hood.”
“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”
“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”
“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”
Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”
Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.
All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.
“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”
Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.
“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”
She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.
“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.
“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.
Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?
“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.
She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?
And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.
And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.
What the hell?
“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.
“What’s this?” She asked.
“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”
“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.
Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”
“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.
“Yeah, kid?”
“Thanks.”
—*—*—*—*—*
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In Which Each of Bruce’s Kids Come Out to Him
and then he comes out to them
Dick
They’re working on opposite sides of the coffee table in one of the manor’s more habitable sitting room’s. It’s become a regular part of their weekday routine: Bruce finishes up whatever office work he has to do, while Dick does his homework, and talks about his day. Usually there are snacks involved. A parenting book Bruce had read recommended trying to get their work done together. It’s a good way to keep connected with their increasingly busy schedules.
“So anyways…” Dick’s story is starting to slow down a little bit, and the shift in tone has Bruce glancing up from his paperwork. “I should probably tell you, since, well, everyone knows at school now.” His voice is still conversational, and relaxed, but a little distracted.
Bruce shifts him his full attention.
“See, what happened was Cameron Josephs in my third period biology class came to school with nail polish on today, which I noticed with my clever detective skills, and promptly dismissed as unimportant, and everyone else noticed with their nosy pre-teen skills, and promptly lost their shi- I mean, minds over. And that was Mrs. Horton’s class, and she has absolutely no control over her students, so it sort of became this whole big thing. Kids were making fun of him, and other kids were yelling at them to knock it off, and he was just trying to do his work, but the rest of the class got into a big fight. And then Brad Cormick- he’s on my basketball team- made a homophobic joke, and we were sitting at the same table, and I could tell that he wanted me to laugh at it. So I told him to shut up, and said that I was bisexual, not that any of it really had anything to do with anything else that was going on, but it did get him to shut up, which was good. Except that I think it may have been because I have more friends than Cameron does, which is totally unfair, and everyone should just be nice to everyone else no matter what, but also I guess not really the point… The point is, yeah, I’m bi. Oh, also frog dissection got moved to tomorrow because one kid threw up.”
Dick takes a deep breath (finally) and a long sip of his juice, before immediately returning to doodling athletic stick figures in the margins of his algebra homework.
Bruce studies him for a moment, trying to figure out what kind of response is expected of him, what would be helpful for Dick to hear. He’s really not very good at this kind of thing.
He’s saved from the risk of putting his foot in his mouth when the science class story continues.
“Are frogs really that gross? I don’t think they are. But I guess our basement is filled with guano, so maybe my tolerance is heightened by regular exposure to the substance most frequently equated with insanity.”
Dick hadn’t seemed nervous before coming out, or relieved after. And if he’s not going to make it into a big deal then neither is Bruce, even if a part of him feels pleasantly warmed by the casual show of trust.
Jason
Bruce loves picking up his kids from school. It’s not something that his schedule allows him to do very often, and Jason- as Dick had been before him- always seems pleasantly surprised to see him. It’s a little thing in the grand scheme, but it’s just nice, normal. And he would never say it out loud- he’s not sure why, he knows he should- but he cherishes the little bit of extra time spent with his boys.
But today Jason isn’t happy to see him.
Bruce pulls up to the curb, and only has to scan the crowd of teenagers for a few seconds before spotting him. He’s on a bench with another student, their shoulders pressed together despite wide swaths of free space available on either side of them. Jason’s pointing out something in a textbook, while the other boy plays with his free hand.
Bruce pulls slightly to the side to let another car drive around him, figuring he’ll give Jason a few minutes to finish up, and notice that Bruce is there, rather than call out and risk embarrassing him.
It’s not even a full minute before they make eye contact across the lot, and immediately something in Jason’s expression changes. His eyes go wide and startled, his posture suddenly tightened. In one fast motion he shuts his book with both hands, muttering something to his friend as he practically throws himself off the bench.
Now feeling on high alert, Bruce sweeps an intense gaze over the school yard for anything that could have upset his son. He doesn’t manage to spot anything before Jason arrives at the car and pulls himself into the backseat (where he never sits, unless the front is already occupied). He starts talking before Bruce can ask what’s wrong.
“That wasn’t what it looked like!”
Bruce frowns, and looks over both Jason and the area in front of the school in an attempt to identify something that isn’t like how it looks.
“He just-“ Jason flinches, seemingly realizing something wrong with whatever he’d been about to say, and cuts himself off with a sharp breath. “I mean-“
Feeling lost is by no means a new part of parenthood for Bruce, and he’s sure it’s something he’ll experience many more times going forward. But, god, he really hates not understanding what’s going on, not knowing what to do, and he doubts that he’ll ever get used to it.
“Jason,” he tries. “Slow down.”
“Yes, sir,” Jason answers automatically. “Sorry.”
It’s been over a year since Jason’s called him ‘sir’ and the sudden reintroduction of the honorific sends a cold chill down Bruce’s spine. For a second they just stare at each other, with what Bruce is pretty sure are matching expressions of partially concealed horror.
“Jason,” he says more quietly.
“I know,” Jason interrupts. “I’m sorry. Please-“ He stops himself, covering his mouth before he can finish the thought, and then just as quickly lowering the hand back to his lap.
Another silence follows, short but harrowing. Then finally Bruce makes a rare admission
“I have no idea what’s happening right now.”
Jason stares at him, and the wider his eyes get the younger he looks, and the more Bruce wants to scoop him up into his arms. But he just waits, and tries not to look too expectant.
“I-I was holding hands with Derek,” Jason breaths out.
“…Alright?” He’s heard that name before. Jason doesn’t have as many friends at school as Dick had, so they’re a little easier to keep track of, even if Bruce has only ever met any of them in passing. “Is this someone you’re worried I’ll embarrass you in front of?” He asks after a brief pause.
Jason keeps staring at him, expression crinkling as his breathing grows erratic.
Bruce finds himself automatically exaggerating his own inhales and exhales, resting the side of one hand against his sternum, to remind Jason of some of their breathing exercises.
“That’s it, chum,” he says as he sees it slowly begin to work. “Everything’s okay.” For all he knows- or doesn’t know- right now it might not even be true, but dammit for his kid he will make everything okay.
“Everything’s okay,” Jason obediently echoes.
Bruce takes his hand off his chest, and starts to reach towards him. But Jason flinches away from him, not as violently as he had back when they were still new to each others’ lives, but it’s enough to make Bruce feel sick. He can practically feel the wrongness of it squeezing his heart into shards as he slowly withdraws his arm back into the front seat. He had truly thought that they had gotten past this.
“I’m sorry, Jay,” he says softly, a small concession to the part of himself that wants to beg his son’s forgiveness for whatever he’s done to make him afraid. “I’m so sorry.”
Jason’s not looking at him anymore. His head is down, and his gaze is fixed on his knees.
Bruce hesitates.
“I’ll never hurt you.” It’s a reassurance he had thought they were past the point of needing, but if they aren’t he’ll say it as many times as he has to. “Never.”
“Are you mad?”
“Is there something particular that I’m supposed to be mad about?” Bruce asks carefully.
“... That I was holding hands with a guy,” Jason elaborates, after a steadying breath.
Oh, Bruce is an idiot. What kind of detective is he if he can’t even- He cuts himself off, realizing he can’t wait too long to respond to that.
“Of course not. That’s what this is about?”
“I never meant for you to find out,” is the response he gets. And doesn’t that just hurt like hell to hear?
“That you like boys?” Bruce confirms.
“And girls, both. But I didn’t know what you’d think, so I figured if I couldn’t be sure it was better to keep it to myself.”
Bruce closes his eyes, taking a second to calm his own breathing.
“I never want you to feel like that,” he says. “About anything. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear. I love you, Jaylad, that isn’t contingent on anything.”
I wish I could have protected you from whatever it was that made you feel like this was something you had to hide. He doesn’t say it.
Jason is finally looking at him again, gaze thoughtful and careful. A long moment passes, before he surprises- and momentarily terrifies- Bruce by getting out of the car. But before he can react to that, Jason’s climbing into the passenger seat, and after a second of hesitation, leaning into Bruce’s side.
“Okay,” he says quietly, sounding a little choked up.
Bruce puts an arm around his shoulders. The closeness is a balm after the pain of having his son flinch away from him.
Tim
Tim isn’t supposed to come over today. His parents are in town, and Bruce had made a point of hiding his reluctance when he’d given Robin the week off, chastising himself for the empty nest syndrome he has no right to be experiencing- at least in regards to this particular child.
So he’s surprised when he hears Alfred’s throat clear, and looks up to see both Alfred and Tim lingering in the doorway to his office. It would be odd to see him here at this time of day even if they had been planning to go on patrol; sunset is still a few hours off.
Bruce immediately has a bad feeling. He knows it’s commonplace for the Drakes to disappear unexpectedly partway through whatever length of time they were meant to be spending at home. As Batman it’s made his life easier numerous times. As a parent it’s beyond his comprehension. If he still had his boys at home- but he can’t think about that, not without breaking down, and if Tim’s just been abandoned that’s the last thing he needs.
As he approaches the door, Alfred’s pointed look, and Tim’s vacant expression confirm that he’s right to be concerned.
“Tim.” He keeps his voice neutral. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
He picks up on Alfred’s glare a fraction of a second too late to realize that he’s said the wrong thing.
“I’m sorry.” There’s something miserable in Tim’s voice, that makes Bruce want to bundle him up in a blanket. Before he can assure him that he has nothing to apologize for, Alfred cuts in.
“I told Master Tim that he’s welcome to stay with us for as long as he needs.”
Bruce nods automatically, looking down at Tim, who’s glassy expression looks a million miles away.
“Tim,” he says gently, eventually drawing the boy’s gaze, but feeling disconcerted by how delayed the response is.
Alfred leaves with a comment about putting a kettle on for tea, closing the door firmly but softly behind him. The sound it makes as it pulls all the way shut still makes Tim twitch.
“Do you want to sit down?” Bruce offers.
Tim stumbles a bit on his way to the couch. He’s so out of it; He won’t be patrolling tonight, even if his schedule’s suddenly open for it. Bruce sits down on the other side.
“Are they gone again?” He asks, trusting fully that the vaguely worded question will be completely understood.
There’s a worrying delay before Tim shakes his head, giving Bruce ample time to wish for Alfred back before he can register the response enough to be surprised by it.
“So...“ he begins uncertainly, before being cut off.
“I’m sorry,” Tim says again. “I don’t mean to be a bother.”
“You aren’t a bother, Tim.”
The- admittedly somewhat monotone- assurance just gets him a shrug.
“Can you tell me what happened?” He tries.
“Do I have to?” Tim asks after a long silence. “Can’t I just stay here?”
Bruce frowns.
“Of course you can stay here. But I think I really need to know what’s going on.”
Tim stares at him, eyes shining, mouth opening and closing several times before he speaks.
“Can I- Alfred says I can tell you something, and you won’t get mad?”
“Well, that depends on what it is,” Bruce says, thinking back on every time a robin has had something to tell him, but first wanted confirmation that he wouldn’t be angry.
Tim seems to shrink at his words, his breath catching audibly as he curls in on himself. Fuck, Bruce is bad at this.
“What do you have to tell me?” He asks.
“Well now I don’t know if I want to!” It almost comes out as a yell, strained by the sound of held back tears, and Bruce is a little taken aback.
“I’ll probably find out at some point,” he reasons.
There’s a beat of silence, and then Tim chokes on something that sounds like a suppressed sob.
No, no, no no. This isn’t supposed to happen. Bruce reaches out for him in an awkward and hastily aborted movement.
“I can’t,” Tim says after a minutes, tears streaking over his pale cheeks. “If you don’t-“ His voice catches. “I need you to let me stay here.”
Bruce’s heart hurts as he scooches a little closer, reaching out to rest a hand- hopefully not too awkwardly- on Tim’s shoulder.
“Of course you can stay here,” he reiterates. “I told you you could stay here. Even if I’m mad at you you can stay here. If you-“ He searches for a moment. “-Took the batmobile out on a joyride, and drove it into the harbor, I’ll be mad at you, but you’ll still have a place here. One will never have anything to do with the other.”
Tim makes a noise that’s over too quickly for Bruce to be able to tell if it had been a laugh, or just more crying.
“Did Jason do that?” He asks in a hoarse voice.
“Dick,” Bruce corrects.
This time Tim definitely snorts, which has Bruce smiling in spite of himself.
“Did you do something worse than that?” He asks.
It’s meant to be a joke, but Tim makes an unhappy face at the question.
“I- no!” He says, defensive, but confident. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Bruce gives his shoulder a squeeze before releasing it.
“Then why would I be mad at you?”
The humor that had begun to make its way into Tim’s expression disappears again, and Bruce curses himself.
“Mom and Dad were mad,” he says quietly.
Bruce scowls. He tries pretty hard not to let his dislike of Jack and Janet show around Tim- though he’s long suspected the young detective can tell- but it’s harder to hide sometimes than others.
“You said they were still home,” he remembers. “Tim, did they kick you out?” He does his best to keep the anger out of his voice.
And then he finds himself doing his best to keep the anger off of his face when it takes Tim a moment to answer the question.
“I don’t think forever,” he says uncertainly. “Just- They said they needed time to think about it, to d-decide what to do.”
The slight stutter puts him over the age, and fury starts to trickle into Bruce’s voice.
“To think about what?” He demands. Hell, that place is more Tim’s home than it is theirs. They have absolutely no right to ask him to leave! And where the hell do they expect him to go? Bruce forces himself to clench his jaw, and take deep breaths.
“...I’m gay,” Tim finally says.
Bruce stares at him for the second that it takes for the words to register, and connect back to the rest of the conversation.
“That’s it?”
He’s wincing at himself before the question is all the way out of his mouth, immediately convinced that he’s said the wrong thing again. But then, to his immense relief, he realizes that Tim has started laughing. It isn’t deep, or sustained. His voice is still a little weak, and his eyes are still a little red. But he’s definitely laughing, and Bruce realizes vaguely that a robin laughing is still his favorite sound in the world.
“That’s it,” Tim confirms, on the tail end of his laugh.
“Oh, Tim.”
Bruce doesn’t give himself a chance to second guess the motion before he pulls the boy into a hug, satisfied that it was the right course of action when he feels Tim melt against him.
“Of course I’m not mad, of course I’m not mad,” he repeats like a mantra. “I’m sorry I let you think I would be. You’re right, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
A few seconds pass, and he realizes there’s a wet patch at his shoulder where Tim’s face is buried. Bruce freezes, totally unsure of what he’s done wrong this time.
“I’m sorry,” Tim breaths out. “I- thank you. Thank you! I don’t know what I would have done if- I- I don’t want to be alone!”
“Not alone,” Bruce promises. “You’re not alone. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Tim presses closer, and Bruce takes it as a cue to tighten his hold.
Alfred finds them like that a few minutes later, Tim curled up in his arms, while Bruce cycles through reassurances. The look they exchange is enough to confirm that they’re both thinking the same thing: this kid is ours.
Cass
One day Cass hangs a little pride flag up on her door. Later in the week when she catches Bruce glancing at it, she comes up to him, gives the flag a meaningful nod, before just saying, “Girls!” in a happy voice, giving him a hug, and disappearing down the hall.
Damian
Bruce can identify every member of his family by their knock, but Damian’s is particularly distinctive. Not just because it tends to come from a lower part of the door, but because Damian has cultivated a strong knock, the way businessmen cultivate a strong handshake. It’s a very confident and determined sound, that he often finds himself stifling a smile at, knowing that that isn’t at all the intended reaction.
“Come in,” he calls, and there’s no pause before Damian strides into his office, confident as ever. When he speaks however, the undercurrents of his voice tell a different story.
“Father, there is something I wish to discuss with you.” There are a few hesitations, that don’t quite manage to turn into stutters in his voice, ones it’s unlikely anyone outside of their family would notice.
Bruce doesn’t comment on them, just nods for Damian to sit down and continue.
His legs don’t fully reach the floor. Something else that Bruce has learned not to let himself smile at.
“Grayson says…” he begins confidently, before trailing off.
Bruce just raises an eyebrow for him to continue, not feeling like he has enough information to put anything together from at the moment.
“Richard says,” Damian continues more carefully. “He came out to you as bisexual when he was around my age?”
Bruce nods. He has a feeling that he knows where this is going this time.
“He did.”
“He said that you were okay with it?”
Bruce nods again.
“Dick is my son. My love for him isn’t conditional, certainly not on that. There’s nothing wrong with not being straight.”
Damian had broached the topic using Dick as a proxy, so Bruce had followed his lead and assumed that Damian would know to automatically apply the assurance to himself. But Damian’s face just falls into a puzzled frown.
“So why…” he begins, before changing track. “Richard isn’t your biological son.”
Bruce frowns back.
“Damian, you know that doesn’t make a difference to me. I don’t love your siblings any less because they’re not-”
“I know,” Damian cuts in. “It isn’t about loving us differently.” He says it very matter of factly. “I have the ability to carry on your bloodline, whereas they do not.”
“That ability isn’t an obligation,” Bruce says, wondering why his kids never seem to be able to just worry about normal things. “And it’s certainly not something that you need to be thinking about at thirteen years old.”
Damian nods slowly, staring down at the desk with a look of intense concentration, before slowly raising his gaze to Bruce.
“Mother and Grandfather said that you wouldn’t like it, if I wasn’t interested in girls,” he says quietly.
Bruce sighs. of-fucking-course they did. He gets up from his chair, and moves around the desk to kneel in front of Damian.
“Well they’re wrong,” he says simply. “And they had no right to lead you to believe that it would make any difference to me. Just like I don’t love your siblings any less, my love for you is no more conditional. Understand?”
It takes a moment, but Damian nods.
“All right. In which case, I suppose... I’m gay.”
“And I’m proud of you,” Bruce says, before pulling his son into a hug.
Bruce
Bruce looks at his assembled family, and begins to feel a strange sense of trepidation tickling at the edge of his consciousness.
They’re all here. Trying to get the whole family together all at once is like pulling teeth. But he told them it was important, and they all came. There have been plenty of points over the course of the years when that wouldn’t have happened. And even though they’ve all been pretty settled with each other for a while now, he never wants to take for granted having his whole family together- not that he thinks the part of him that only seems to settle when he has all of his children within arm’s reach would let him.
The comfort of having them all be together is overwhelming, but the trepidation is still there, just like it probably always will be any time he manages to round up the courage for anything resembling feelings talk.
They’re all in one of the living rooms, sprawled in a comfortable half circle across various couches and chairs.
“There’s something I wanted to tell you all,” Bruce starts to say.
“Are you dying?” Stephanie asks casually.
Beside her, Cass freezes, looking horrified.
“I’m not dying,” Bruce says quickly.
At the same time Steph rubs a hand up and down Cass’s arm and assures her she was kidding.
“Not like he’d tell us if he was,” Dick says.
He knows it’s meant to be a joke, just like Stephanie’s question had been, but it still sends a chill through him. Mostly because he can’t say for sure that Dick is totally wrong; it’s the kind of thing he easily could have kept to himself. But then he sees the uncertain frown that Damian is giving him, and Cass’s wide, anxious eyes, and decides that he has to be wrong.
“I’m not dying,” he repeats, reaching out for Tim who’s sitting closest to him, and who’s been staring very intently at the floor since the topic came up.
Tim leans into the touch without shifting his position.
“And I would tell you,” he adds seriously, feeling absolutely wracked with guilt over the fact that up until this moment he doesn’t know if he would’ve been able to claim that with any certainty.
“I swear, if there’s anything wrong with me, all of you will know as soon as possible.” By the time it comes out of his mouth, he knows he means it with total certainty.
“I think we’re all pretty tuned into the fact that there’s something wrong with you,” Jason offers, and the tension in the room breaks.
Bruce smiles despite himself. That was agonizing. Compared to that getting on with the conversation he’d previously been so apprehensive to have will be a relief.
“What did you want to tell us?” Duke asks.
“It can be… difficult for me to articulate what it means to me whenever one of you trusts me enough to share something about yourself. I thought that I owed it to all of you to return the favor, and share a… recent discovery of mine.” He stumbles through it as awkwardly as he’d expected to.
“This is weird,” Stephanie stage whispers.
“I’m bisexual,” Bruce admits.
“Bruce!” Dick says excitedly.
“Unacceptable,” Jason cuts in. “We already have enough of that nonsense in this house!”
Tim kicks him in the side.
“Well, seeing as it’s an option, I for one prefer the idea of you pursuing romantic entanglements that bear no risk of resulting in pregnancy.”
“Noted, Damian.”
“I’m happy for you, B,” Tim says. “It can be hard figuring yourself out.”
“Thank you, Tim.”
“Is that it?” Duke asks. “I mean, not that it’s not a big deal- and I’m happy for you too by the way- it’s just that most of our family meetings involve addressing some kind of crisis.”
“That’s it,” Bruce admits.
“Perhaps- seeing as we’re all here anyways- we could take this opportunity to have dinner together as a family for once,” Alfred offers.
#batfamily#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#cassandra cain#damian wayne#batman#batfam#dc#my writing#fluff and angst
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🐻Oh, I stopped to think, how the Slashers would react to their S / O being a witch who reincarnated (doesn’t remember the past life, except how she died.), She does rituals (using some potions, animal bones and blood itself). to raise and control plants and a power related to his death (possibly fire) and have nightmares about his death that usually have phantom pain and vision (in the midst of flames and smoke for example.) kisses from Brazil 🐻
Slashers react to a witch s/o
How do the slashers react with you doing tarot, moon rituals, playing with energies, making potions and doing spells?
🌹🌛🌕🌜🌹how do they react to you controlling the elements and getting forewarning of his death?
Thomas Hewitt
Thomas is lowkey intrigued?
Doesn’t even know what this stuff is??
He’s pretty much clueless, but that doesn’t mean you can’t teach him
If you tell him you’re a witch I have a feeling he’ll be taken aback
“B-but the Bible says—“
“No no, the Bible was originally Aramaic, Tommy— and ‘witch’ in Aramaic meant poisoner, my love. I never poison anyone.” 💖💕💖💕
That should do it 😊
Anyway he will still be bewildered a lil bit, just peepin around the corner watching you doing a tarot reading like Ow0 wot
Will catch animals for you to use for rituals
Do you need human bones too? Cuz he’s got you covered 😊💕
But hearing of your past life death? Seeing you play with fire and plant energies? How the universe practically bows to you? He sees you completely different.
He was standing on the back porch, watching you walk towards him as the grass waved to you and the trees bent in your favor, and he never wanted to be apart from you 🌹😊
You are a starlit goddess, sent to him by mistake— and he thinks you belong to the stars above or in the clouds~~ anywhere but his dark, sad home 😓💖
If you have nightmares about his death, he will go under your wing —begrudgingly— under your constant protection
He doesn’t believe too much of your visions, but he hates seeing you upset and his dark goddess doesn’t deserve paranoia 🥀😓
Jason Vorhees
Whatever Jason thinks, he at least acknowledges at his zombie phase that he isn’t exactly considered natural either.
Tbh you guys would be a total power couple 🤗🥺💖
He would be probably more understanding of your occupation than Tommy, and would embrace you fully 😊
Like “I knew my y/n was special. I knew it!” 😊💕
He doesn’t like that you use animal bones though. “Why the poor animals y/n?? Use human bones instead— here.”
He thinks you have superpowers hah
He loves when you raise the plants to be alive again— it’s like you keep it spring all year and he loves it 🥺💖💕💖🌷
Will be happy that you have them so you can protect yourself if need be ��
Once you tell him about your past life death and how you can manipulate elements and that you’re getting forewarnings dreams of his death... he won’t be too worried.
First off, any thought of you dying in general is caused him literal physical pain. So he didn’t like you talking about that 🥺💕
You controlling the elements, Fire? He will follow you anywhere hon’. 7’1 immortal zombie legend murderer and powerful sorcerer/ess/witch? Biggest power couple 💕🙌🙌
And then lastly, the only thing Jason will worry about from your dreams is how you will manage with out him. That’s literally it 😂🥺💕💖
He knows he will come back eventually, you can’t kill Jason forever— he physically can’t stay dead lol
He will sheepishly miss all the crazy sex you guys have been having, but you stop your worrying! Jason’s like “my poor bab don’t be so scared— I’ll always come back!” 💕💕💖💕
Michael Myers
Will 1000% pretend your powers don’t interest him.
But just know that he’s peeking around the corner when you absent mindedly play with the candle’s flame while mixing a clarity potion, literally on his toes 😂💕
He loves to be around you when you’re doing candle work, making a potion, practicing controlling the elements— because you exert this powerful and foreign energy aura that’s comforting to him 😊💖💕🥺
Another slasher that will go on a midnight trip of catching animals for you because “ANYTHING FOR YOU, MY GODDESS— 😫💖💕💖💕”
But you wouldn’t even ask for it, he would see you making spell charms or bags with animal bones in it—
And then next thing you know he drops a sack of birds and a goat next to you and walks away???🤭
Do I know where he got the goat?? No I fucking do not xD but it kinda stank so you had to drag it out the back door and get to work 😣
And then obviously he’ll give you human bones as well lel 💕
He likes hearing of your past life death, he thinks it’s cool lol 😊💖
Getting forewarnings of Michael’s death? K.
He wouldn’t be bothered really, but he obviously doesn’t want to die— he’s too stubborn for that 💕💖
This is the only time he will ever listen to you xD barely
Basically like “too bad—I’m going out tonight. But I’ll ‘be careful’ or whatever the fuck you said.”
Another huge power couple btw 🙌💖💕
Bubba Sawyer
He thinks you’re so cool 🥺
He’ll think your tarot readings are a game and he’ll pick up random ones and look at them
(He likes the pictures) 😖💖
He’ll be so curious, like snooping around when you’re doing a ritual, snuggling up against you when you’re saying an incantation—
He’s like a cat💖💕
Oh you like animal bones? What a surprise! His house is literally full of them. 😶🌷
Ya you have an endless supply of animal bones— you won’t ever run out 😂💖💕
You died in your past life? WHAT? Why? *crying*
He will snuggle you all night when you tell him that 🥺
Also thinks you’re a goddess that was sent to him and can NOT wrap his head around the fact that you two met by chance 🥺💖
Cherishes you every single day and will probably be super clingy because you’re just his strong woman who deserves everything for the queen she is— *INHALE* yeah. 😖😖💕💕💖💖
Wait. What? You dreamt of me dying? What abt you will you be okay my little blueberry muffin??
He won’t careeee but at the same time he wants to stay with youuuuu😖💖💕
Just so he can stay alive to be with you, he’ll do everything you say to stay safe and will follow every protocol much to Chop Tops annoyment. 🤷♀️😊💕
“No, sorry—Y/n says I can’t do that.”
I love you two together, it gives me the feels 🥺💕💖
Bo Sinclair
Ooooh niceeee
Lowkey interested but probably won’t show it 😆
Like u do u— don’t know don’t care as long as you keep making me pbjs
Prepare for bewildererd looks when he walks in on your using blood/bones for a particular ritual 😳
Like you’ll just be sitting on your bed with your eyes closed, holding a black candle trying to banish negative energy and he’ll walk in—
“Want me to leave...?”
“Shhhhhhh....”
He’ll probably come home one day with an animal skull or something like, “babe I found this owl beak... you want it?” 😂💖💕
He’ll probably tell Lester to catch something while he’s out and about, and then take it and tell you that he got it for you all by himself😂💕
Lowkey scared of you sometimes
He’s not scared of blood, but like y are u using it..??
Tried not to piss you off too much so you hex him or something xD 💖💕
You: *manipulating fire and wind out back*
Bo, walking in on it: bitch what the fu—
If you tell him you’re getting visions of his death, he’ll probably be super skeptical and give you it a smartass remark— probably ask if you’ve been smoking the mugwort too 😳😶
But if you persist on it— he’ll get frustrated but will listen to you because he doesn’t like seeing u upset 🥺🌷
Brahmsie
Bitch wtf u doin?
So confused— explain now
This little shit will go through all of your stuff and take what he thinks is cool and will probably piss off your deities (if u have deities) 😂
You’ll have to make him apologize and have him give it back~~which I wish you the best of luck w 😂💖💕
You’ll just be minding your own business when Brahmsie is looking at your things—
The he legit looks at you dead in the eyes and takes your dragon figurine and disappears into the walls, much to your panic 😓😶😶
But since you can do all this stuff, now 3x more scared of you even tho you’re a small bean in comparison to him— 😳💕🌷
You threatened to hex him if he didn’t start actin right and he started being nice real quick 😂🙌💕💕
Where did u get that blood? 😶😳
Using animal bones? Use the dead rats y/n! Duh!
Bonus for him if he manages to sack the grocery boy and take his bones too 😶💘
“ANYTHING FOR YOU MY QUEEN!” 🙌😭💖💖
If he finds you controlling the elements and sees u controlling fire.... he leaves immediately dont you know he’s terrified of fire??
Yeah uh he demands in a shaky voice that you stop doing that or else ☹️😶he doesn’t like fire at all
But that’s okay cuz you’re still the fuckin coolest person hes ever been w! 😆💘
Wait wut...? You’re saying I’m gonna die? UWU SAVE ME Y/N I DONT WANNA DIEEE
He will literally get so scared when you tell him you’re getting forewarnings of his death, and will go under your wing definitely the most willingly 😅💓💓
Whatever, more cuddles for him! And some other things 😏
I hope u liked ittt! Sorry I’ve not the time to post ANYTHING lately— it took me 5 days to finish this one because of how busy w school I am— but I hope you like it!! 💖💖
#slashers#thomas hewitt#i made a thing#jason vorhees#Michael Myers#bubba Sawyer#bubba sawyer headcanons#bo Sinclair#Brahms Heelshire#Thomas Hewitt headcanons#Jason Vorhees headcanons#Michael Myers headcanons#bo Sinclair headcanons#Brahms Heelshire headcanons
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Jason//don’t blame me for falling
Request: Can I request a jason/reader where Polly is jealous of the reader because she's dating Jason and she tries to break up both of them up but the bulldogs and the vixens confront Polly and tells her to back off because the reader and jason are end game and can the reader also be co-captain and Jason Captain of the bulldogs and can the reader being bestfriends with Cheryl! And thank you btw I love your writing!!!!
hey! i hope everyone is having a good day!! i don’t really get/have a lot of jason imagines so this was super fun to write. title is from harry styles’ ‘to be so lonely’. i hope you like this!! k, byeeee
Polly Cooper has done some things in her time. She’s lied, stole and caused more drama than you can wave a commentary youtube channel at.
But this time, she’s gone too far.
You knew she was jealous when you and Jason started dating. It was understandable, they’d dated and he’d essentially broken up with her for you. But thats as far as it went. There was never any cheating or lying involved, and Polly was your friend...sort of.
But everyone could see that Jason was miserable with Polly, whether that was her fault or not, nobody knew. But when your friends saw you and Jason talking to each in the corridor. When Cheryl would invite you over to hang out after school and she’d find you with Jason instead of getting a snack like you’d told her, everyone knew it was inevitable.
The captain of the football team and the co-captian of the cheerleaders...it’s just destiny. Especially if they’d grown up together. Especially if your best friend was his sister. It was bound to happen eventually, it was just a matter of waiting for the timing to be right.
And eventually, after years of waiting and pining and staring longingly at each other...it happened.
You went to a party together like you always did on a Friday night. You snuck both Cheryl and Jason out of their house with a little help from the Vixens and Bulldogs and then you were off to Hayley Grey’s party!
There, the two of you drank a little too much (it was for a good reason, Jason was upset about his very messy breakup and the fact that Polly now hated him and you, even though you weren’t even together then) and by the end of the night you’d played a very drunk game of truth or dare, made out in the bath tub, confessed your undying love for each other and then fell asleep in the back garden.
You were woken up the next day by Hayley’s dad shouting at the two of you to get off the freshly mowed lawn otherwise he’d call the police and the neighbourhood watch. You’d grabbed Cheryl, ran past Hayley being scolded by her mom and went back to the Blossom’s.
Once you got there, Mr and Mrs Blossom were stood outside the gate with their arms crossed and scowls on their faces, and stood next to them was your parents, also looking more than annoyed.
The three of you had been grounded for three weeks, but it was worth it.
Without that party you and Jason would still just be friends, so you silently thanked Hayley Thomson and her parents, while you and Jason stood beside each other, your fingers still intertwined as your parents shouted at the three of you.
And the rest as they say, is history...
Or at least thats what you thought they’d say.
But this is real life and nothing is ever that easy.
Because yes, for the rest of the weekend you were happy. Texting each other in secret with hidden phones the two of you had gotten ages ago so you could continue to talk to each other.
You told your friends, he told his and they were so happy.
Cheryl the most because it meant she didn’t have to listen to you mope about Jason whenever he was with someone that wasn’t you, or listen to Jason try to subtly mention you in conversations that related to you in no way, and failing.
Everyone was happy.
But by Monday morning, word had gotten around and one person wasn’t happy.
Polly Cooper. The older and arguably more annoying sister of the Cooper children. She’s always been a little wary of you, you did hang around with her boyfriend a lot and she’d heard the bets about how long it would take for you to get together.
But when Jason broke up with her, that was it.
Even though you two didn’t get together until like three weeks after they broke up so you don’t really know what she was complaining about.
She had a list on enemies and you were number one, Jason followed closely at two and then Cheryl was three, just because.
Her hatred started off slow. She would glare at the two of you whenever you walked past her. Then there were the whispers, laughter and of course the name calling, which then bizarrely evolved to middle school-esque notes passed during class that made you roll your eyes and Jason laugh at the crude drawings.
“Do I really look like this?” He asks, holding up the latest note that has been shoved through his locker.
“Hmm.” You think for a few seconds, glancing between him and the paper. The hair’s the same colour, but apart from that, “nah.” You shrug and he nods, looking at the drawing one last time before throwing it in the bin. “You’re much more attractive.” You say, a smile tugging at your lips as you lean over the lunch table to kiss him.
“Slut!” Polly shouts from across the cafeteria and you pull away reluctantly, both you and Jason sharing a look of annoyance.
“Do you want me to talk to her?” Cheryl asks from beside you, too busy staring at her phone to actually pay attention to anything around her.
“Its fine.” You say. “I’ve got it.” You turn in the direction of Polly and flip her off, a sweet smile adorning your lips and your friends laugh loudly. “This is the 21st century, there’s no such things as sluts Polly.”
“You’re the exception to that.” She replies.
“Well done Polly. That was actually really good for you.” You compliment. “You keep working on your insults and come back to me when you have something better than slut. Oh and how did you get in my boyfriends house to put your bra in his bed? We’ve spent hours trying to figure it out and nothing.” The room goes quiet at your revelation and Polly glances at the table, trying to regain her composure.
She looks back up a few seconds later and the usual smug grin settles on her face.
“I must have forgot it the last time I was there, which was what Jason? Last night?”
“I don’t think so Polly because I think I would have noticed you there.” You reply and hushed gasps and giggles echo around the room.
She shuts up after that, thankfully letting you eat the rest of your lunch in peace.
You know it won’t last, but you’ll take the small victory.
----
“Did she seriously put a bra in his room?” Cheryl asks as the two of you walk out of the changing rooms and towards the front doors.
Vixen and Bulldog practice both finish at the same time so the two of you wait by the doors for Jason and the rest of your friends.
“Yep.” You reply, popping the p and she looks at your amused. “I genuinely don’t know how she’s getting in there. Jason thinks she never left, she’d living in the walls.” You giggle.
“But why though? I would never leave any of my bras in anybody’s room. They’re all too pretty.”
“I agree.” You nod. “I dunno. She’s been trying to break up us since we got together. She’s spread rumors about both of us, left bras in his bed and faked texts between the two of them.”
“Well thats annoying.”
“If anything it’s just sad.” You sigh. “I kind of feel sorry for her.”
“What? Why?”
“I dunno. I mean, her boyfriend did break up with her and then start dating his best friend three weeks later. He was miserable but it still doesn’t make it any less upsetting for her.” You frown as you speak.
Despite being together for over 5 months now, you still can’t help shake the feeling that maybe you’re in the wrong. You don’t want to upset anyone, it just so happens that you’ve been in love with Jason Blossom for as long as you can remember.
“Well, you’re a bigger person than me.” Cheryl shrugs, looking around the empty corridor. “Where the hell is he, this bag is heavy.” She complains and unlocks her phone, sending another text to Jason and huffing loudly when she doesn’t get an answer immediately.
You laugh and go to rearrange your bag on your shoulder when your realize that you’ve forgotten it.
“Shit, Cheryl. I left my bag.” You say and she rolls her eyes.
“How do you forget a bag that big?” She asks and you shrug. “Go on, I’ll wait.”
“Thank you Cheryl, you’re the best.” You smile sweetly before rushing back towards the gym and changing rooms.
All the way back you feel like you’re being watched.
It’s not an intense feeling, its just makes you a little bit more aware of your surroundings, a little bit more jumpy when one of the janitors drops a mop on the floor. You look over your shoulder a little more often when you searching for your bag, and when you finally find it you walk a little quicker out of the room and into the corridor.
You start the slow walk back to the front of the school, deciding to keep Cheryl waiting for a bit longer. And it’ll be even better if Jason is stood with her, both of the Blossom’s annoyed.
But just when you think you’re safe, Polly appears and you can already feel the headache starting. You force a smile and stare straight at her, trying to feign niceness.
“Hi Polly. Great practice wasn’t it?” Thats right, she follows you literally everywhere, even to practice, despite not listening to anything you or Cheryl says.
“Stay away from my boyfriend.” She replies and your eyes widen, now fully invested in wherever this conversation is going.
“Excuse me?” You blink.
“You heard me. Stay away from my boyfriend.” She moves closer to you, effectively backing you into a corner and the only things thats keeping space between the two of you is your gym bag...of course it is.
“Polly, he isn’t your boyfriend anymore. He broke up with you, remember?”
“Remember?” She laughs bitterly. “How could I forget. You stole the love of my life away from me.”
“I di-”
“You’ve been planning this haven’t you. I mean I get it. Your friends with him for ages and then it slowly develops into something more. I understand that. You know, he always told me I had nothing to be worried about whenever I asked about you. That was a lie wasn’t it? Because here you are, happy and in love while I’m alone. But remember this. He chose me first. He was your friend for years and he never wanted you until now.”
“Look Polly, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to shut up, and listen.” She says, backing you further and further into the corner.
“Okay.”
“I will get Jason back. Slowly but surely, he’ll realize he made a mistake and that he’s supposed to be with me. You’re only supposed to be his friend, nothing mor-”
“Is everything okay?” A voice asks.
Polly pauses and both of you move to look who the voice belongs to. A small smile twitches at your lips when you see your friends from both the Vixen’s and the Bulldogs.
“Yeah.” Polly says through gritted teeth. “Everything’s fine, isn’t it Y/n?”
“Are you sure? Because from where we’re standing, it looks like you were threatening Y/n. Doesn’t it?” Juliet continues and looks around at the rest of the group. They all nod, glaring at Polly.
“Jason’s chosen who he wants. Do everyone a favour and back off.” Cheryl says in a cold tone.
The group of Vixen’s and Bulldogs part to let her through, and as soon as she’s at the front, she’s backing Polly into the wall. You quickly side-step to avoid being squashed and watch as Cheryl continues to subtly threaten Polly.
Its not how you would prefer to tackle the issue, but she ignores everything else, so maybe Cheryl will do the trick. You don’t know for sure, what you do know is you’re very thankful to have friends that find you when your in trouble, even if they do want to go home.
Cheryl finishes her threats with a very sweet ‘got that?’, and even you’re a little scared as to how she can change her tone and entire demeanor so quickly. She then grabs your hands and pulls, the two of you walking towards the front doors, your friends following all talking loudly.
You see Jason stood by the door, pacing up and down while he frantically texts. Once he hears noise he looks up and the worried expression disappears as soon as he sees you.
“You okay?” Jason asks, his eyebrows kitting together as he takes in your shaken appearance.
“I am now.” You reply, sending him a small, but relieved smile. He nods, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you.
He knows when you’re lying, he knows everything about you, but he also knows you’ll tell him later if you want to. He knows right now he just needs to see you smile properly.
“Pops?” He suggests and slings an arm over your shoulder, the two of you set off in a slow walk out of the doors and towards his car. “We can split a milkshake.”
“Why can’t I get my own?” You ask, feigning annoyance.
“Because in all our years of friendship, when have you ever gotten your own milkshake?” He replies.
“Never.” You sigh.
“Exactly.” He nods. “Just because we’re together doesn’t change anything.”
“Thats fine by me.” You grin.
#jason blossom#jason blossom imagine#jason blossom x reader#jason blossom x you#jason blossom x y/n#riverdale#riverdale imagine
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kisses #9 for valgrace?
9. first kisses
this is super long and late i hope you like it 😭
as usual with me, valgrace have been dancing around each other for a while, right? they’re off the argo II, it’s the aftermath of everything that’s happened, leo did not die because i said so, but he came really close.
jason and piper have broken up because piper discovered reyna and well. piper is gay, reyna is gay, it just worked out. jason was really glad when piper burst into the jupiter cabin and yelled “oh my gods jason i’m gay i’m so sorry i have to break up with you” because he was trying to figure out how to say the same thing to her… so that also worked out.
anyways there’s no hard feelings there, although jason did tell piper he’d need some recovery time (like a week) before they could be best friends again.
In the mean time, jason has yet to see the remaining member of his trio. leo has been in the infirmary to recover, and jason left him there after he got confirmation from one of the apollo kids that leo was going to make it.
okay that was a lie, hazel had to drag him out of the infirmary, but now that he’s out he doesn’t want to go back. seeing leo all beaten up and unable to tell jokes was really terrible. it’s made worse by the recent realization that he’s sort of in love with him.
he’s chatted a little with reyna about leo, and reyna gave him her almost-ex stamp of approval, so that was niec.
(upon saying he didn’t know if he should tell leo, reyna gave a sighed of annoyance and said “boys” under her breath. jason doesn’t know what it meant. possibly it was the reason she’s a lesbian.)
fast forward a few days, leo is up and at em, not really, both of his legs are still in casts and he uses crutches to get around, but he’s doing much better than he was when jason went to see him.
there’s an obligatory “yay leo is okay!” party thrown in jason’s cabin by the seven. it also doubles as a going away party for hazel, frank, percy and annabeth. Jason hasn’t told anyone he isn’t planning on going back except for reyna, but since no one wishes him a safe trip he figures everyone knows.
the party turns into a sleepover, which jason is grateful for, he’s not ready to sleep alone quite yet. (in the sense that he wasn’t alone on the argo II).
everyone slowly passes out until it’s just jason awake, or he thinks that until a small flame flickers from the other end of the room. leo has been arranged carefully around a bunch of pillows and blankets, and from this distance (and without his glasses) jason can just make out some of the other boy’s individual curls.
the flame extinguishes, and jason hears a heavy sigh. he’s about to let it slide until someone pokes him in thigh, making him jump, and letting him know yeta gain he’s not the only awake person. it’s piper, and she’s got a knowing gleam in her eye, and she tilts her head in leo’s direction. go to him, she’s saying.
so jason steels himself and makes his way across the room, offers his hands to leo who smiles up and takes it, and they end up on the rooftop. jason had to fly him up because of his casted legs, and then he had to go back down to get blankets and pillows to make him comfortable.
they sit in silence until they both speak at the same time, and jason’s cheeks are warm when leo tells him he can go first with a smile.
jason: “leo i just…” he looks to the stars and he remembers sitting on the deck of the argo II, feeling the rocking of the boat beneath him. he remembers hearing commotion from the cabin across from his and knowing that leo was there working on something crazy. he turns to leo, who’s got a determined look on his face.
jason starts, “leo, i really, really like you and-” and then he can’t finish because leo is kissing him. it lasts for a second before leo pulls back. jason blinks. he frowns before tugging leo forward and kissing him again, closing his eyes to enjoy it properly.
he releases leo, who’s got a cocky grin on his face. he says, “you didn’t even let me finish.”
leo rolls his eyes: “i’ve been waiting for months now, i wasn’t going to wait a few more seconds.”
jason’s cheeks are so warm. “Months?”
leo rolls his eyes again and leans forward to kiss jason’s cheek. “it’s okay though, i have you now.”
bonus: “is THIS why you were so upset at being the seventh wheel?” “you try watching your two obviously gay best friends date for months and tell me you wouldn’t feel the same.” “... okay that’s fair.”
#valgrace#jason grace#leo valdez#prompts#creativename5#ethan answers#ethan writes#ficlet#bullet point fic#headcanon#pjo#hoo#toa#heroes of olympus
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Soulmate AU part 13!!
I meant to update yesterday, but between a long school/work day and going out with friends afterwards for karaoke, it didn’t quite happen. Oops! I’m gonna try to get everything edited in advance so updates hopefully get a little smoother for me to roll out. Thanks for reading!
First • Previous • Here • Next
“So, we’re all agreed?” Tim demanded. “I’ll go in with Robin, play a little good cop, bad cop with them. And once we’ve actually figured out how bad the problem is and what we’d actually be able to do to help, Bats can swoop in and offer a hand.”
“I do not see why we had to plan that,” Damian practically yawned. “It’s what we would have all done anyway if left to our personal inclinations.”
“And why aren’t I in the plan?” Dick asked, pouting like the overgrown child Damian knew him to be. “I can play good cop just as easily! Or swoop in after! I can swoop!”
“Swooping is... bad.” Tim muttered to himself. “I left you out of the plan, Dick, because while we play diplomats to a bunch of teenagers who’ve been saving a whole city near daily for four years without help or acknowledgement, crime in Gotham doesn’t actually stop. You and Jason and Cass are on actual patrol.”
Cass wasn’t there, Damian knew. She’d already left after the first time Drake had gone over his “plan” to start on her actual patrol. Todd looked seconds from taking the same exit, except that he’d wanted to be there too.
“Still say I should be the bad cop,” he grumbled, and Damian kicked the foot he had sticking out from his slump on the chair. He got a half hearted retaliatory kick attempt, which was enough to know that Todd wasn’t truly upset at any of them, just upset that he wasn’t getting to meet the new French heroes. “Kid can go hunt down some more scumbags and sleazeballs. Might even catch Riddler or someone at something tonight. I wanna scare the kids.”
“I told you, you’re too much of an asshole to expose to children without warning. Also, they’re still teenagers. It makes sense to send the two youngest of us in to talk to them.”
“And Riddler’s still locked up,” Father said from his spot, far enough away from them that he could maintain the illusion of not dealing with their squabbling but close enough to listen and chime in. “Try again.”
“Hmm. Harley, taking a swing at Scarecrow for shooting Ivy.” Todd cracked an eye in that direction.
“I’d let her,” Damian groused quietly to himself.
“Speaking of Ivy,” Father’s voice cut through the chatter. “Damian. Mind explaining what you were doing when you got caught up in the attack today?”
Damn.
Damian had honestly let himself hope that the meeting with the new heroes would eclipse what had happened earlier that day.
“I was touring the Gardens,” he said, not dishonestly. “I don’t see why it matters.”
“No, what matters is the fact that you have a girlfriend, and you didn’t tell me,” Dick sighed dramatically. “Where did I go wrong, Bruce?”
“You didn’t actually raise me.” Damian pointed out. “At best, you’ve been a morally guiding nuisance.”
“Jiminy Cricket?” Tim asked, grinning widely.
“Where did you go wrong, Bruce?” Dick corrected, sending a glare towards Tim.
“If you don’t wanna tell us why you were practically hanging off of the poor girl’s every word, you don’t have to,” Todd grinned. “But just remember that what we can imagine is probably far worse than what was actually going on.”
Damian suppressed the urge to groan. He met Drake’s eyes. Surprisingly sympathetic, but then he also hadn’t shared his soulmark with their family to Damian’s knowledge.
“Marinette,” he stressed her name very carefully, with the air of someone who entirely regretted just about everything that had led them to this part of their life, “is my soulmate.”
There was a moment of silence before all hell seemed to break loose.
“A soulmate? And you never told me!?” Dick practically wailed.
“Perhaps I should have pressed the issue more when the marks first appeared.” Bruce murmured.
“There’s no way that sweet girl was your soulmate, Demonspawn.” Todd, crass as ever, objected.
“I think you guys are forgetting that Marinette literally had me on the ground and pinned within the first second of our interaction.” Drake reminded them. “And based on that, I’m guessing she wasn’t lying when she told Gordon she took down two of the goons that came after them.”
“She definitely wasn’t,” Damian found himself saying almost wistfully. He’d found himself at several points that afternoon and evening replaying the memory in his head of Marinette bringing down the idiot who’d tried to bring them to Scarecrow. “Her form needs work, but then not everyone has had the opportunity to train to our standards. I’ll be amending it.”
He found himself met with several frankly insultingly bewildered looks. With a sniff he flattened his expression and did his best to look down on them even from his position as the not quite shortest.
“Oh my god,” Todd said. “She’s actually your soulmate?”
“Cut it out, Jason,” Drake snapped before Damian could. “Or should I say something about your soulmate?”
Damian watched as Todd scoffed but settled down, eyes narrowed at their brother. Dick’s eyes flicked rapidly between Damian and Tim, baffled concern evident. “Did I wake up in an alternate dimension? Like- suddenly Paris has heroes and villains for years that we’ve never heard of, Damian met his soulmate, Tim is defending him, and Damian is letting him?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Damian said, meeting Tim’s eyes and watching them light up as he said, “Tim and I have always been perfectly friendly.”
“Honestly, Dick,” Tim took it one step further, slinging an arm over Damian’s shoulders. “I know you were kind of bitter that he latched on to me when you were supposed to be the Batman to his Robin while Bruce was gone, but there’s no need to act out like this.” Damian, against all of his instincts to shove the intruder into his personal space away, leaned into the side hug, and even wrapped his arm around Tim’s waist to complete the picture of easy familiarity.
“You’re not going to trick me into actually checking if we’re in an alternate dimension,” Dick said, and Damian struggled not to grin as Todd sat up a bit straighter.
“And what, next you’re gonna say today isn’t actually Cass’ birthday? You know Alfred’s got the whole cake and everything waiting for after patrol.”
“It’s not-“ Dick panicked, grabbing his phone, checking his calendar. Tim gripped Damian’s shoulder just a bit tighter as he struggled not to break, and Todd’s eyes were narrow and gleeful.
Dick looked up, accusatory and betrayed. All three of them cracked.
“Oh my god,” Todd laughed, as Tim broke down nearly to tears beside him. Damian couldn’t stop himself from laughing too, at the look on Dick’s face. “‘I’m not gonna check-‘ Dick, it only took one more sentence!”
“It wouldn’t have worked if you’d said anyone but Cass,” Dick whined, throwing his grappling hook at them. Jason caught it easily, tossing it back before Dick could prepare for it, catching him in the stomach.
“If you’re all quite done,” Father stood finally. “Damian, make sure you invite Marinette around to dinner tomorrow. I’m sure we’re all equally anxious to meet her. For now, let’s go, before we miss the meeting time we set up.”
“Yes, Bruce,” came the mumbles from his brothers, as Damian nodded his acquiescence.
For now, they’d deal with the Parisian heroes and their crisis overseas. Once that was settled, hopefully Drake could spend some time looking into the oddities in his soulmate bond.
And dinner be damned, he’d try to keep Marinette from meeting these idiots for as long as he could.
TAGLIST:
@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @abrx2002 @area51qt @jessigurl-design @renscorpio @cici-schnee @multplelifes @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @tired-butterfly @kuroko26 @catthhay @moonystars14 @shamefullove @shreky-boi @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person @bigpicklebananatree
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Of Blood and Bonds - Chapter 1
@mystery-5-5
@abrx2002 @clumsy-owl-4178 @daminett4life @zalladane
@heaven428 @unmaskedagain
@dawnwave16 @virgil-is-a-cutie
@kris-pines04 @hypnosharkrebeldreamer
@weird-pale-blonde-person
@ravennightingaleandavatempus
@persephonebutkore
@be-happy-every-day-please @blue-peach14 @annabellabrookes
I hope I got everyone in the tag! I know I said this was gonna be fluff but it's also going to be angst. Sorry not sorry.
On that note, this book will contain swearing, mentions of rape and torture. I will try not be explicit but that's really relative. Read at your own risk. There will be warning before if I make a explicit scene so that you can skip it.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy and don't hunt me down for this.
___________________________________
Marinette had punched Bruce Wayne.
Marinette had punched Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham, in Wayne Enterprises Tower in Gotham City and she was probably going to get kicked out because of this but it was so worth it.
"Marinette honey," He said cautiously, "I'm sure I deserve it but why?"
She clenched her jaw and took a few deep breaths as she opened and closed her fists. She was trying really hard not to punch him again.
You won't be able to get a second shot in without the boys intervening. She told herself, eying the way the boys - her brothers, she reminded herself stood, ready to pounce on her at any instant.
She had no doubt that the only reason she wasn't being restrained yet was because they were too shocked to react.
"I don't think I asked for much Dad." She practically snarled the words out. "I just asked for a few phone calls and yet-" Her voice was shaking. "Yet, I haven't heard from you in over three years."
"Mari I can expl-"
"No, no, you don't fucking have that right to anymore. I did not come to Gotham to ask an explanation or beg for your attention. This was an unfortunate coincidence. I would have been perfectly happy to never see or hear from you again."
She turned to leave but Bruce grabbed her shoulder. She froze. This was Bruce Wayne, She had to remind herself, This was her father. He would not harm her.
"I needed you Bruce. I needed you and you were not there." She shrugged off his hand from her shoulder and left in the direction of her class.
Dick wordlessly moved out of her way and she tried not to think about the fact that she may have lost her chance to have a relationship with her siblings.
~
Dick didn't know the whole story. Hell, before today Dick hadn't known that he had another sibling. He hadn't known that Bruce had another biological child.
At least, he guessed that she was his biological child but he couldn't be sure because, once again, Bruce hadn't told them.
He watched the man. As always, he had an incredible poker face but he knew him better, he knew him enough to see the emotions waring among themselves behind his eyes.
"You messed up big time B." He said quietly. "You know that, don't you?"
His father said nothing, instead he pushed past him and Damian to go after Marinette. He and his little brother had only to share a look before they took off after him, if only to stop him from doing something rash that he would regret and and that would probably damage their chance to know their sister better.
Damian, Tim, Jason and he himself already had had the chance to talk to her. They could all collectively agree that they already loved her, even Damian, and they had no doubt the others would too.
Dick saw Marinette head towards the washroom. It was clear that she needed a moment alone, just like it was clear that that Bruce intended to wait for her to come out to be able to talk to her again.
He disagreed.
"B-"
"I need to talk to her."
"I know." He soothed despite wanting nothing more than to yell at the man. Sometimes, Bruce understood less than Damian. "But she won't like it and you've already pissed her off enough. Why don't we go to the cafeteria? The rest of her class is there. We can wait for her there, once she had some time to calm down."
Dick could see that he was about to protest. "Damian will wait for her and accompany her back." He said, sparing a glance at the youngest who gave him a nod back in return. "She'll be fine. Come on."
He tugged Bruce along with him and the fact that he didn't argue and let himself be pulled along was a testament to how much he was upset by this whole thing.
Dick was angry, he wanted nothing more than to scream at Bruce because didn't he know better than to keep secrets like this from them at this point?
~
Bruce knew he was a coward and definitely not the father one would wish for, but if Marinette really had given up on him, she wouldn't have been so angry.
There was something he was missing.
"-your stupidity aside, she was found bound and gagged with clear signs of having been assaulted. She was tested positive for rape for God's sake. What more do you need to leave her alone?"
There seemed to be an argument going on in the cafeteria. While that was alarming enough, the blond girl's words gave him a very bad feeling.
"Oh, please." A sausage-haired girl rolled her eyes. "She was probably there willingly. No one would get through such traumatic event and be back to normal so soon after. Not even her parents believed her. "
"Normal? Are you serious right now? I was there when they found her. I was there when she screamed at the sight of anyone with blonde hair or green eyes. And you've all seen how after that, she hates being touched."
"She's just over-reacti-" Sausage-hair stopped in the middle of her sentence, staring at something in his direction.
"Oh no, please do continue to speak so openly about the worst month of my life." He couldn't help the flinch when he heard his daughter's voice as she walked past him... because that meant that Marinette, sweet precious Marinette - his sunshine had been kidnapped and assaulted for a month and if the other girl was to be believed neither Tom or Sabine believed in her.
The sausage girl scoffed but backed down. Her reaction meant that she was at least a little guilty. He filed that information for later. She muttered a 'Whatever.' and walked away.
"Marin-" the blonde haired girl who was defending his daughter spoke up but Marinette cut her off.
"I do appreciate you trying to defend me Chloe but I'd appreciate it better if you didn't speak of it at all."
The girl - Chloe, gave a nod in acceptance. "Go on ahead," Marinette said, from beside him. "I'll catch up."
The blonde eyed them for a moment before she walked away.
Bruce looked down to his daughter who was still staring ahead.
He had so much to ask her, like What the hell happened? But she beat him to it, unclenching her fist.
"I'm sorry for punching you, but I was. Angry." She was gritting her teeth. "But I did meant it, you don't need to bother trying to contact me or anything. I'm perfectly happy without you."
She started walking away.
"Marinette-" he called out and she stopped. It reminded him of earlier and he had a sinking feeling that her words would be as heartbreaking as the first time.
She shook her head. "Like I said B, I needed you." For the first time, since she arrived in the cafeteria, she turned to look at him and gave him a small sad smile that broke his heart all over again. "It would have been nice to know that at least one of my parents supported me."
He didn't say anything. What could he say to make this better?
She walked away, and this time, he didn't stop her.
~
Jason was a little more than pissed.
His day had started out nicely enough, made better when he saw a tiny girl taking out two men probably twice her size.
He was going to help her but she had already taken care of them.
She still thanked him for trying to come to her aid and when he offered to walk her to wherever she was going, the girl took a few moments to assess him - to him it felt like she was looking through his soul.
There was something about her that screamed to him not to underestimate her. She knew what she was doing, that much was clear and when she offered him a sunny smile and told him that she was heading to Wayne Enterprises, he felt something loosen inside of him.
It was bizarre to say the least but he felt at peace near her. Safe.
Later on, he would realise that the haze of the Lazarus pit that he had struggled with everyday since his ressurection had retreated when he was near her.
Jason's mood started to worsen when he found out that she had been left alone by her class. Something like an ugly acidic green snake coiled up inside of him wanting to protect her and extract revenge.
Jason's mood improved again as throughout the day she saw the girl interact with his brothers, clearly winning over them as well.
Though, he was rarely - to the point of never seen at WE usually, he decided to make an exception that day and hang out with the tour group Tim was supposed to be leading.
Damian had also supposedly been bored and had decided to crash the party and Dick wasn't too far behind their youngest to keep him out of trouble.
Everything was going smoothly and honestly, it was after a long time that they found someone the others didn't have a problem with.
Then he had noticed Bruce, and not even a few seconds after, he noticed the bluenette slipping out after him.
Dick and Damian - who had been shadowing her all day, slipped away after her and he was stuck behind babysitting with his replacement.
That class had nothing of worth except Marinette. There was actually even a fool that was stupid enough to claim that she knew the Waynes in front of them, while not knowing that they were the Waynes and instead treating them like mere employees.
He would enjoy putting her in her place.
But before he could, his day started taking a turn for the worst, impossible to brighten again.
The girl, he didn't care enough to know her name, out of the blue stated that Marinette probably just slipped away again to draw attention to her. That escalated in a very…informative battle of words that made him want to take a plane to Paris and drench it's streets in blood.
As if that wasn't enough, he saw Bruce again, now looking like someone slapped him in the face with a fish...
On closer look, he could see that someone had actually punched him. He was so going to hack the Tower's camera.
And then Marinette spoke up and...what?
He was completely lost.
Did she say one of my parents? He hoped for Bruce sake that he misheard because otherwise that meant that this father figure fucked up again...which wasn't that suprising really.
So really, Jason was a little more than pissed and he felt like his choice of words was appropriate.
"What the actual fuck Bruce?"
~
Tim was tired.
His day had set out to be a tiring one, irrespective of the fact that he had stayed up all night to work on a case.
He had to lead a tour group.
Wayne Enterprises had a habit of keeping an eye on promising students for schools that they funded. For some reason, Bruce had started funding a College François Dupont in Paris. Why? He didn't know but knowing the man, he probably had some ulterior motive.
That had intrigued him and he had taken a look at the students in their last year. There was indeed some very promising young talents - who by the looks of it, already knew which career they wanted to do and were clearly working toward them. Many of them had already been on T.V shows, had their names in newspapers or did small gigs and commissions. It was rather impressive.
There was this one class however which at the beginning was one who seemed to have a lot of potential but he saw in their files that over the years their...efforts dropped collectively around the same time. It was extremely bizarre.
One particular student in that class drew his attention though. It was one Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her academic records were stellar - always had been and while her grades had dropped a but at one point, she got them back up within the year which was more than impressive since she had skipped two years. She also seemed really talented, had won several awards and supposedly had a website for commissions - her file seemed...rushed and considerably lacking in details compared to her classmates even though Tim felt like she did way more than them.
Call it his detective instincts but he knew that there was something going on in that class, his doubts were further re-inforced when he saw a report about Marinette, it was once again quite vague but what little was in it still chilled him to the core.
But...still...there was something else about her. Something striked him as soon as he saw her picture - she seemed really really familiar but he couldn't put his finger on where exactly had he seen her before.
Well, as CEO he was supposed to be leading the tour groups anyways, so hopefully he'd get to find out then.
The tour group consisted of all the senior class of the college and he prayed against all hope that it wasn't to be a disaster.
Flashforward to the big day...it wasn't actually so bad. His brothers had crashed the party...which was unexpected but they weren't causing any trouble which was for more than he could usually hope for and while some students were absolutely aboherent ((mostly from that one class that had caught his attention)) the rest were genuinely nice. He had managed to talk to a few of them and was pleasantly surprised at their intellect.
The most interesting student there though was, as he had predicted, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, she was able to keep up with him throughout all of his explanations, whatever department may it have been in even though it was clearly stated in her file that she wanted a career in fashion. But well, he knew better than most that appearances could be receiving. Simply put, she was a genius.
She reminded him of Elle from Legally Blonde for some reason.
There was however also one student who had certainly not impressed him, thoroughly disgusted him actually - Lila Rossi.
See the thing was that no one knew that he was actually the CEO. That had been done intentionally. The aim of the tour after all was for him to be able to see if there was any potential employees for Wayne Enterprises among them.
And boy, was he going to blacklist her.
The girl was a lying machine and the lies weren't even good. She name-dropped at every other sentence and even did the mistake of lying about him and his brothers in a place where any employee who knew them personally could call her out on her bullshit. It was such an amateur mistake.
His opinion of her only soured when she insulted Marinette, he had taken her a liking to her, however brief their conversation had been and even if he hadn't - the fact that Lila bought up her kidnapping and downplayed it would be more than enough.
Thankfully not everyone from that College was total numbskulls. A few people immediately jumped to the defense of the absent girl.
He cataloged them mentally - The Braindead, The Neutrals and The Defenders, while also taking notes of what they were saying.
What he heard out was even more horrifying that what he had read.
That it! He was going to be looking into this girl's case personally.
As of all of this wasn't bad enough, Bruce just had to make everything worse.
Because he could finally out the pieces together and understand why Marinette looked so familiar.
Marinette was his sister.
Marinette was Bruce's daughter and he was going to have to answer to Tim - and but the looks of it, his brother too - about what had happened to their newfound sister.
~
Damian…
Damian didn't know what to think.
#Maribat#Platonic Daminette#marinette dupain cheng#damian wayne#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#torture#mentions of rape#bamf marinette#Badass Marinette#Bruce is trying#bruce is a good dad#lila salt#adrien salt
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Jason Todd Birthday Week, Day 2 - Robin
Jason scowled as he ran ahead, leaving Nightwing behind and leaping across to the next roof, landing into a roll. The jump was cutting it close – half a foot more and he wouldn’t have made it. It left him a little shaken, but he immediately took off running again and at least tried not to show it.
He went on like that for another minute or so, until suddenly he realized he couldn’t hear Nightwing’s footsteps echoing behind him anymore. He stopped, more annoyed than alarmed, wondering where he could have gone and why he didn’t tell Jason anything.
“Nightwing,” he murmured into his com, “where the hell are you?”
No response. Jason tried again.
“Nightwing. Nightwing, do you copy? Nightwing!”
Jason paced up and down the roof, feeling like an absolute moron with the way he was muttering to himself. What even was the procedure for this kind of thing? Bruce, for all his faults, had never gone AWOL on him before. Trust Nightwing to be a total dick about this, as he was about everything else.
“C’mon, ‘wing, ‘s not fuckin’ funny,” he whispered.
He whirled around, meaning to get to a higher point to try and locate Nightwing from there, but his search came to an abrupt end. As he turned, he came face to face with Nightwing, stoic and silent.
“Fuck!” he hissed, taking a step back in surprise. “What the hell, dipshit, don’t just stand there like a fucking horror movie creep, where were you?”
“Nearby,” Nightwing said, curt enough to pass as Batman. “Do you know how long it took you to notice I wasn’t behind you anymore? Two blocks.”
“Yeah, because I didn’t think I had to be on the lookout for you doing something as stupid as that, funny thing!” Jason protested, voice rising. “What was that about? A test or something? Give me a break. You’re not Batman.”
“And you’re –“ Nightwing took a deep breath, shaking his head. “That was what could happen if you keep trying to get as far away from your partner as possible. I could actually lose you, or in trying to keep up we could end up missing something important. What were you trying to prove to me? That you can run real fast? Congratulations.”
“Fuck you,” Jason spat out. “How fucking hard would it be to call out, ‘hey, Robin, slow down’, instead of pulling this pseudo-didactic BS?”
“It was a demonstration,” Nightwing said. “And sorry, but I very much doubt you would have listened to anything I had to say. You think you already know everything.”
“Try me!” Jason yelled, challenging. “Except you won’t, will you? You won’t give me a chance. B gets benched, and you say of course I’ll patrol with Jason in your stead –“
“No names in the field –“
"—we all know how fuckin’ useless he’d be on his own, amirite? So you come, but you gotta be a dick about it. I mean, jeez, if you can’t call me Robin without shedding a tear then even ‘hey you’ would do, but no. ‘Course not.”
"Meanwhile I suppose you had to keep a thirty feet distance between us because you were so excited about patrolling with me,” Dick countered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Look, kid, we don’t have to get along. But what you’re doing makes it harder for me to save your ass if something happens, and I think we can agree Batman wouldn’t be happy about that.”
“Oh, well, so long as it would upset Bruce,” Jason scoffed. “Guess you really have no choice but to watch out for me then. Lemme make it easier for you; I’ll head back home, an’ you can patrol on your fuckin’ own.”
Without waiting for a response, Jason flung himself off the roof, shooting his hook at the very last moment and swinging away. Bruce would be pissed if he could see him, because it was a stupid risk to take, but the rush was exhilarating, and Jason needed something to calm his nerves. If he didn’t, he’d either go right back and yell at Nightwing for the next hour without pause, or he’d break down crying, neither of which he wanted.
“ROBIN!”
The scream pierced the air, startling Jason and making him look back up, just in time to see Nightwing leaping and swinging after him. There was a grace in his movements that Jason would never achieve, no matter how many times he did this, no matter how technically correct his form was. This was Nightwing in his element, where he lived and breathed, in that breathless moment before the crash. Jason swallowed the bile in his throat, feeling woefully insufficient.
“What the fuck was that?” Dick demanded, supressed fury in his voice. He exhaled shakily and gathered himself – suddenly he looked terrifyingly calm. “Cave. Now. No detours, no fancy tricks, if you so much as think about doing something like that again I will carry you back kicking and screaming, so don’t you fucking try it. Go. Now.”
Jason bit back a sharp retort and took off, all the while wondering what the hell he’d done to get that kind of reaction. Dick had been pissed at him before, and pretty consistently, but this was something else. This was the kind of calm that could only possibly come before a storm. If Jason was to weather it, he’d much rather do it in the presence of Bruce and Alfred.
Just because Bruce was benched from the field, didn’t mean that any force in the world could keep him away from the cave. He was down there with Alfred, prepared to do ground control if need be. As much as they couldn’t agree on anything else, neither Dick nor Jason wanted Bruce to intervene, so they mentioned nothing on the way back nor after they arrived.
“It was pretty quiet,” Dick said cheerfully, and Jason had to marvel at his acting skills. “No point staying out more.”
“Hmm,” Bruce said. “Jason?”
Jason didn’t miss the hurt flashing across Dick’s face, but he nodded. “Yeah, like ‘Wing said. I’ve had more exciting nights studying algebra.”
“Alright.” Bruce turned to Dick again. “Thank you. For filling in.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it,” Dick murmured.
And if that had been all, maybe they could have ignored it and moved on. But Bruce’s injury meant he’d be out of commission for at least two more nights. One had already nearly been disastrous, and Jason was still waiting for Dick to lash out at him after whatever that had been on patrol. How were they supposed to do this twice more? They would get nothing done.
And they were supposed to be helping Bruce, not making his job harder with fights and petty shit. It was all Dick’s fault. Where did he get off, not even bothering to hide how little regard he had for Jason, and then thinking it was his right to boss him around? No.
Jason changed out of his costume and headed right up to bed, wanting to avoid a possible confrontation. But not ten minutes had passed when there came a knock on the door, the pattern fitting neither Alfred nor Bruce. Whatever Dick thought of him, Jason was smart, and Bruce had taught him to recognize this kind of thing.
He lay still and pretended to be asleep, making no sound, barely breathing. If he didn’t respond maybe Dick would just go away.
“Jason,” Dick called out. “There’s no way you’re sleeping, open the door. We need to sort this out.”
Jason debated refusing to do it, but Dick would eventually find a way in, and the longer Jason stalled him, the angrier he’d be. He got up and opened the door, acknowledging Dick with a nod and stepping aside to let him through.
Dick stayed standing up, but Jason positioned himself strategically at his desk, and said nothing. If Dick wanted to talk so bad, then he’d have to do the heavy lifting.
“You’ll probably take this the wrong way,” Dick said. “But I can’t take you on patrol tomorrow if you’re gonna do what you did tonight again.”
"You can’t take me on patrol?” Jason echoed, disbelieving. “You couldn’t in the first place. You’re not Batman. You don’t even live in Gotham. It’s not your call whether I go or not. And what the hell is your problem, anyway? I don’t understand why you’re so pissed off about me going ahead, Jesus, do you need a promise I’ll follow at your heels tomorrow? ‘Cause then you can forget about it.”
"Do you really think this is what this is about?” Dick snarled. “You were purposely going further than I could reach you in time if anything happened, you were pulling reckless move after reckless move –“
“I was SHOWING OFF!” Jason bellowed. “Happy now? That what you wanted to hear? I know I’ll never be at the level of Dick Grayson, probably born mid-air, but I was dumb enough to think I could impress you! And then maybe you wouldn’t hate my guts so fucking much!”
"I don’t – that’s not –” Dick stared at him, wide-eyed, and for once with no clever retort. Then, with effort, he managed, “That last fall, when you said you were going back – that wasn’t about impressing anyone. It was needless and dangerous, and I know you would have never done it if Bruce could see you.”
Jason threw his hands in the air. “Uh, yeah, duh. Bruce worries. Too much. And he can be an asshole about it. But you don’t give a shit about me, so how was I supposed to know you’d freak out?”
"I don’t – I don’t want you to get hurt,” Dick protested. “How much of an asshole do you think I am?”
“More of a dick, really,” Jason muttered with a shrug, and to his surprise Dick let out a chuckle. “I wasn’t, like…I knew what I was doing. I’m not completely hopeless at this, you know?”
"No, you’re not,” Dick agreed. “You’re doing…phenomenally. You should hear how Bruce talks about you. He’s probably not gonna tell you to your face when he’s proud, but it’s…yeah.”
“Is that the problem?” Jason asked. “That I’m good?”
“No,” Dick said with a shake off his head and a bitter smile. “It might be…I’m not happy with any of this, yeah, but it’s not for the reasons you imagine. Do you know…do you know what Robin is?”
“Robin is Batman’s partner,” Jason answered instantaneously, and then frowned, feeling like he’d failed some sort of test.
“He didn’t create it,” Dick said. “Bruce. I did. Robin was my mom’s nickname for me. The costume –ridiculous thing, right? – that was inspired by the Flying Graysons’ outfits.”
“Shit,” Jason breathed, feeling like someone had emptied a bucket of cold water over his head. “Shit. I didn’t know. No wonder, though, that you don’t like me. Huh.”
“It’s not really your fault,” Dick admitted, running a hand through his hair. “And I’m definitely through with Robin, I couldn’t go back, but it doesn’t feel like it was his right to give it away. That’s all.”
Jason looked away. He sympathised, except that Robin was the second best thing to ever happen to him, and he didn’t want to give it up. Especially when the first could very well be dependent on it. He ought to offer, at least, but he was too scared that Dick would take him up on it.
“I’m sorry,” he said instead.
“You’re not the one I need an apology from,” Dick sighed. Suddenly he looked tired and much older than his eighteen years; he closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, leaning against the wall. “They fell, you know.”
“What?”
“My parents. Bruce never told you that, either? A mobster burned the trapeze wires with acid and they plunged to their deaths. I was too young to take part in that show, but – I saw it. So do you understand?” he asked, glancing at Jason with a melancholy smile. “Being here, watching you, it already makes me think about…everything. And then I see you jump off a building, and I wait and I wait and you’re not firing your grappling hook. You have no idea how much you scared me.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Jason murmured.
“I know.”
There was a pregnant pause. Jason found it almost impossible to stay mad at Dick after the bomb he’d dropped. All Jason had known was that Dick was a former circus kid and that his parents were dead. Bruce hadn’t given him more details, and he hadn’t asked for them. He only knew Nightwing, infuriating and impossible to keep up with – he’d never thought about Dick Grayson, Jason’s age or younger, grieving, just taken in by a billionaire. He’d never thought about Dick’s whys and hows.
"Do you want to know what Robin meant to me?” he asked, hesitant, worried that it was the wrong thing to say. But Dick nodded. “Robin’s a kid. That’s the whole point. He’s never as big or as strong as the bad guys. But he wins, and it’s not because of Batman. He can fight back. He can – we all wanted to be Robin. The street kids, I mean. And before that, the kids in my neighborhood. Batman was cool, yes, he was Gotham’s protector, but Robin? He was ours. Or it felt like it.”
But he was Dick’s first, Jason thought now, and he hadn’t stopped to consider that.
"So you thought Robin was cooler than Batman?” Dick asked, a teasing tilt to his voice, and Jason was grateful for the lighter turn.
“Yeah,” he said. “For the record, Nightwing is pretty cool, too.”
Dick laughed and unexpectedly ruffled Jason’s hair. “And so is Robin, then and now.”
#my writing#jtbdayweek#jtbdayweek2019#jason todd#robin#dick grayson#nightwing#bruce wayne#batman#batman comics#dc comics
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Appetence [7/?]
AO3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251420/chapters/47997634
Blanket Disclaimer
Summary: Red Robin is investigating the disappearance of a friend and stumbles into a spot of supernatural trouble. He doesn’t expect to be saved by Jason Todd, miraculously alive five years after his death and now with the inexplicable ability to commune with the dead. Meanwhile, when Jason returned to Gotham he meant to maintain a low profile and not get involved with Bat business. That was before he found out how hot his Replacement is.
Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)
JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: N/A
First Chapter
Author’s Note(s): Apologies for the wait. As you may know I had an adventure with my dropbox wherein I backed up all my files because I had to restore my laptop, and all of the files ended up mixed up in the wrong folders and I've been tracking down files one by one for the past week. I hate technology. I mean, I guess I should be happy the files didn't get deleted, but it's still a pain in the ass to re-organize manually.
Beta Reader: I’ll get back to you on that.
________________________________________________________________
Tim stares at the business card in his hand long after Jason disappears, thumbing over the false name and phone number with a reverence once reserved for clandestinely captured photographs.
Victor Shelley, Paranormal Investigator.
He wonders if Jason was trying to be funny choosing that name. Given what Tim’s heard about him in the few instances where Dick or Alfred talk about him, and what he saw for himself in the past, he thinks it’s entirely likely.
God, Dick and Alfred.
He knows they’re going to be just as blindsided about this as Bruce when they find out.
If they find out.
Guilt flickers through him now at the promise he made to Jason.
Why the hell would he promise a man he doesn’t really know—a man he’s spent a grand total of an hour and twenty-three minutes in conversation with—that he won’t let his adopted father knows he’s not dead.
That he hasn’t been dead for years.
That he’s in Gotham right now.
Tim wishes he could say it was one hundred percent his shock at Jason being alive, but that would be lying to himself. His mind flashes back to Jason’s face, his slow smirk and the smooth, deep voice, and he swears, letting his head fall against the counter.
Apparently, I promised him because he’s pretty.
It’s a new feeling for Tim. He’s never been easily swayed by looks, but something about Jason is attractive enough to put him off-guard, or at least loosen his lips more than normal.
I thought I was over this…
“I know that face.”
Tim startles and glances up at the bartender—Trista—who he had forgotten was there. He’d forgotten he was sitting in a bar, to be honest.
“Judging by the ass on that man, I can guess what it’s about,” she continues in a wry tone. Then she’s sliding a shot of amber liquid toward him. “Here. To steady your nerves.”
Tim stares at the alcohol in numb confusion.
“That’s on the house, but only because he talked more with you tonight than I’ve seen him do with anyone since he got here,” she goes on. “We’ll both pretend I don’t know you’re underage.”
Tim is too flustered by everything she’s just said to do anything other than accept the shot under her knowing gaze. Then, he beats a hasty retreat from the bar as fast as humanly possible without it looking like he’s running away.
Distracted, he returns to his apartment in the Theater District, trying to parse the events of the night from an objective viewpoint. He’s not entirely sure he didn’t dream it all up, considering whatever that incubus did to him, and so he runs tox-screens on his blood and gives himself a full physical just to make sure.
Other than spikes in several hormone levels—adrenaline, dopamine, and serotonin—his results are normal. Nothing that would really alter his perceptions of reality, the way Scarecrow or Poison Ivy’s concoctions tend to do.
That confirmed, he should be able to leave the matter alone for now. There are more pressing matters to deal with—Dante’s continued disappearance being one of them.
But thoughts of Jason continue to assault Tim’s thoughts.
Something has been bothering him since his conversation with Jason, something he wondered before but couldn’t ask because Jason got skittish and made a run for it
How the hell did Constantine cross paths with Jason anyway?
Aside from his inexplicable presence in Gotham at some point in the past five years without attracting the attention of Batman, what would interest him in a teenaged John Doe with no identity or memory?
Sliding into the chair in front of the computer in the Nest, Tim calls up the autopsy report, even though he doesn’t really need to see it. He memorized it years ago. Still, if he’s going to investigate this, he needs concrete facts, not just his memory.
It’s not difficult to create a timeline of events, between Jason’s official death and now. Or to search a list of John Does at various hospitals in Gotham within the last five to ten years, whose condition upon admittance matches the description of Jason’s injuries at death.
He finds the information he’s looking for within twenty minutes.
As it turns out, things didn’t happen quite as neatly or quickly as Jason’s story suggested. His stay at Gotham General was a lot longer than he let on, and Tim’s stomach twists as he reads the medical reports.
Various physicians left their comments on the patient, a young man of about fifteen or sixteen, severely beaten and malnourished, picked up several miles from the hospital.
The file includes a mugshot of a heavily bandaged youth, head shaved from what records indicate were several procedures to repair brain bleeds, skull, and facial fractures. Bruises and swelling make his features almost unrecognizable, except to someone who has memorized pictures of that face since he was ten years old. Someone who knows the cut of that jaw and the color of those eyes, however bleary and vacant they are as they stare into the camera.
“God, Jason…”
Tim reads over the doctors’ notes that span the course of a year, cataloging how well the boy is healing considering the heavy damage he sustained, and how he would be considered a miracle patient but for the fact whatever happened to him caused significant brain damage.
Clear psychological damage, hearing voices, incapable of speech, easily upset.
On several occasions, the boy became unaccountably terrified, screaming and yelling and trying to claw out his own eyes. Sometimes it even became violent, and in his struggles, he put three doctors, a nurse and two orderlies in the emergency room.
I’m surprised it was only that many people. Considering his training, he could have done a lot more damage.
Eventually, he always had to be drugged and restrained.
Demonic possession, maybe?
It’s not the first thing Tim would think of, but if Constantine’s involved in all this, it would make sense. And coming back from the dead like Jason says he did, it had to have side effects.
Except, there’s no mention of anything superhuman or beyond the realm of possibility regarding Jason’s strength. Surely the doctors would have made note of anything beyond the abilities of a normal, scared teenager—especially in Gotham, where strange behavior was a sad norm.
No mention of anything resembling supernatural or metahuman abilities anywhere here.
Jason was eventually placed permanently in the psych ward and likely would have stayed there for the rest of his days, except the hospital’s budget was cut in his eighth month there. Space issues required moving patients to other hospitals, and—
“Oh, no. No-no-no, tell me they didn’t,” Tim murmurs, heart sinking as he scrolls down the page of the report, knowing exactly what he’s going to find.
They sent him to Arkham.
If Tim was horrified before by the notion of Jason’s resurrection and his condition afterward, it’s nothing to how sick he feels to learn that his predecessor was sent to the cesspool that is Arkham Asylum.
He needs to turn away from his computer for a few seconds and breathe, close his eyes and concentrate on not hearing the lilting, singsong voice and tinny voice in his head.
Hush, little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.
Ever since his kidnapping, it’s the one place in Gotham Tim won’t venture—he’s not sure what would happen if he did. Whether he’d suffer a crippling attack of flashbacks, or march into the high security ward and slit the Joker’s throat with one of his birdarangs.
If Bruce realized Tim honestly can’t decide which would be the worse outcome, he knows he’d be benched for the rest of his life. He might not be Robin anymore, but the Family would find a way.
It’s fear of that more than anything else that helps him get a handle on his panic, tethers him back to reality better than anything else. Tim takes another series of deep, grounding breaths, before he feels confident enough to be able to get back to his research into Jason.
At least they didn’t put him anywhere near the Joker, it seems, he notices as he goes through the room assignments and Arkham floorplans. That’s about the only good thing about it, though.
Jason’s ward was for the non-communitive patients, the ones the experts considered untreatable. The ones that get forgotten about in the mayhem of the monthly outbreaks and pandemonium.
Tim’s stomach clenches tight again as he remembers incidents and dates over the years where Batman visited inmates at Arkham to interrogate them on the latest escapes or crimes happening in the city, or just to test the security there. Based on the location of Jason’s cell and Batman’s usual route, there are times when the two were only a floor apart
Tim’s heart aches for them both.
They were so close to each other! If only they’d known—!
And just as suddenly as Jason was transferred to Arkham, all records of him vanish. There’s no information about patient transfers or deaths or releases; instead, like many a nameless patient to be lost to the asylum over the years, he just vanishes.
People don’t just vanish. And in this case, I know he didn’t.
Tim goes on to cross-reference the potential dates of Jason’s disappearance with any visitors to the asylum. It doesn’t take much to identify the only visitor to the asylum for a span of weeks as a certain Chandler Ravenscar—names which another quick search link to aliases used by John Constantine in the past.
That brings Tim to a whole other avenue of research, refocusing him investigation on Constantine himself and his movements over the past years. He tends to keep to the UK, but every now and again travels to various mystical hotspots around the world.
There’s a backlog of security footage to weed through, occultist forums discussing the man and his exploits. Half of what’s written about him online is clearly conspiracy theories, a quarter of it related to some punk rock band called Mucous Membrane and something to do with the Reagan assassination. Those who have actually worked with him either seem too terrified or pissed off to say much about him.
Even harder is finding a video of the man; cameras and other surveillance devices appear to stop working around him. It’s even more of a challenge to catch a glimpse of the teenaged assistant that starts being mentioned several months after Jason’s disappearance from Arkham.
A chance freeze-frame from an airport in Beijing, however, is all Tim needs to confirm it’s Jason.
It’s hours later when Tim sits back, exhausted but now having at least a general timeline of what happened.
One thing is for damn sure—I can’t take this to Bruce.
The story is too painful, too unbelievable. If it doesn’t break him all over, it will have him lashing out at Tim for making up stories about a touchy subject. There’s enough tension between them both right now that he’s likely to question anything suspect Tim brings to him.
Or he would insist it was a trick, that someone had faked all of this. He wouldn’t take Tim’s word for it, would investigate himself, prepare himself for an interrogation when what Jason needs is to have a face to face with his adopted father and mentor.
And Jason’s story still has too many holes in it for Tim to tell it, begging more questions than answers.
Like why Constantine took you from Arkham in the first place. And also…there’s one other thing that doesn’t make sense.
Well, a lot of things don’t make sense, but this stands out.
Tim goes back to the hospital records, scanning for the section where he remembers reading the information.
John Doe’s injuries in the medical files are all consistent with those in Jason’s autopsy, with every scar and broken bone accounted for and described.
Except for an autopsy scar.
That would have been the first thing medical professionals remarked upon when Jason was admitted, but it’s not mentioned anywhere. Which must mean that somehow, Jason no longer has it.
So why did that heal and nothing else did? Could it have something to do with what brought him back?
There’s a sudden dull, clunk in the background and the slide of elevator doors, and Tim glances up to watch Stephanie Brown stride into his base of operations.
“I was on the way out and Babs sent me to check on you,” she tells him. “Apparently someone missed work today without calling in and isn’t answering their phone.”
Tim startles at that, glances at the clock in the corner of his screen and swears when he realizes she’s right. He was supposed to be at Wayne Enterprises an hour ago. When he glances at his cellphone, he sees twelve text messages and three missed calls from Lucius, Dick and Bruce.
“I didn’t even notice,” he groans. He was so caught up in finding out more about Jason that he lost track of time. He quickly taps out a group message reassuring them he’s fine and will be in soon.
“At least being flaky is characteristic of billionaire teenagers,” Steph says as she wanders over.
Tim quickly minimizes his search and swivels around in his seat to face her. “Why are you even awake this early?”
Given the way she spends her nights, Steph made a point of having all of her classes in the afternoon. She’s possibly less of a morning person than Tim is, to the point where even coffee doesn’t make her a little more human.
“Blame my new roommate,” she grumbles, and that earns a surprised look because it’s the first time he’s heard of this. “Right, I didn’t tell you, did I? So, a couple of weeks ago this cat shows up on the fire-escape outside my window. And I didn’t mean to feed it, but it looked so sad and pathetic and I had to, so now it won’t leave me alone. What am I supposed to do? I don’t have time to be a pet owner.”
“Cat’s don’t actually take that much care.”
“That’s what they want you to think. And then one cat becomes two, and two becomes three and the next thing I know, I’m going to be the crazy cat lady on the block,” Steph complains. “And not to cool, sexy, Selina kind of cat lady but the sad, single shut-in.”
“You could never be a shut-in. No four walls can keep your raw joie de vivre inside,” Tim says in a flat tone.
“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.” She frowns in confusion. “Are we in an on-again or an off-again right now? I forget.”
Tim remembers Jason’s cocky grin and muscular thighs and his mouth goes dry. “Off. Definitely off.”
Steph’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. “That was weirdly assertive. Am I sensing a pretty girl behind that sentiment? Do I need to give a shovel talk?” Something occurs to her and she scowls. “It’s not that Lynx chick, is it? Trust me when I say that would be a bad idea.”
“There’s no girl,” Tim mumbles. “Trust me.”
“Okay,” she allows, slow and still somewhat dubious. “But you’d tell me, right? If you were seeing someone? Only so I don’t go crossing lines or causing jealous rage or something.”
“There’s nothing going on, yes I would tell you, can we please move on?” Tim huffs. “Tell me about your cat.”
“He’s not my cat.”
“You fed him, he’s your cat.”
“Stop changing the subject. You’re being evasive—there so is a girl.”
“There’s no girl!” Tim groans, half tempted to tug at his hair. “Who could look at another woman after being with you?”
“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or as an insinuation I was so horrible that I turned you off women for good,” Steph says, eyes narrowed in suspicion. A beat later, she tilts her head to one side as if something has occurred to her. “Wait. That’s it, isn’t it? It’s a guy. This someone’s a guy. You know you can tell me, right? That would totally be okay—would actually explain a lot, actually—you know, you liking guys—”
“One guy does not equate guys.”
“Oh my god! There is! There’s a guy!” Steph squeals. “Who is it? It’s that friend of yours, that went missing, isn’t it? Dante something? That’s why you’ve been so obsessed with finding him!”
“I’m determined to find him because he’s my friend,” Tim counters, a bit irritated. “The same way I’d be determined to find Ives or Bernard or anyone I cared about. And I’d be doing that right now if someone wasn’t distracting me.”
Two someones, but she doesn’t need to know about Jason’s role in it.
“And I’d believe that if you weren’t looking at me like you wanted to jump out of your skin. There’s something going on here, Ex-Boy Wonder.”
“There’s nothing going on.”
“Lies!”
“For something to be going on, you have to actually spend more than an hour with someone. You have to have known them for more than an hour.”
“Not if you have chemistry,” Steph points out. “Sometimes, it’s just like. Bang.” She grins. “And then you have to bang.”
Tim rolls his eyes.
“Do I need to give you the safe sex talk?” Steph asks with concern that’s only half teasing. “The gay-sex safe sex talk? Because to be honest, I don’t think I’d be able to do it with a straight face.”
“Steph, that was awful. As a former Robin, you should be ashamed.”
“And as a former Robin, you should be better at lying. So, spill. What’s going on?”
Tim studies her, chewing on his tongue; he knows she won’t let it go unless he gives her something. “Okay. Fine.”
“Hah! I knew it!”
“Not that. This is…something else,” he says. “Sort of.”
“Okay?”
“What would you do if…say you found out something really important to a person you care about. But you promised someone else you wouldn’t tell anyone about that something because of…reasons. Personal reasons.”
Steph crosses her arms. “Is this about me?”
“Not everything is about you.”
“Then it’s about Mystery Boy.”
“It’s not about—” Tim gives up, and then sighs, because it’s just easier to give her that one. “Fine. It’s Mystery Boy. He asked me not to say something that’s really important. I figure it’s because he wants to say himself in his own time. Except. Except it’s a huge thing.”
“Starbucks discontinuing pumpkin spice lattes’ huge, or ‘Hush trying to destroy B’ huge?”
“Closer to the second. Not dangerous like that,” he adds quickly when he sees her face. “It’s just…serious stuff that could hurt if it’s not handled the right way. Or if certain parties found out later and thought they were having stuff kept from them.”
“Well, now I’m curious…”
“I’m not telling you.”
“I know that. I’m just saying.” Steph sticks out her tongue at him, but then becomes contemplative. “I guess I’d keep my mouth shut. Or try to, at least. Stuff like that always tends to come out eventually. But if you’re worried it could hurt someone, maybe you can convince Mystery Boy it’s in his best interest to tell someone.”
“Yeah, that didn’t go over too well.”
“Well, whatever you do, don’t get into your micromanaging, control-freak headspace,” she tells him. “That’s one of the things that torpedoed you and me, and if you want things to work out with this guy, you should respect his wishes.”
“I never said anything about wanting anything to work out with anyone,” Tim protests. “I just met the guy.”
“And somehow he got you to promise not to tell something that’s apparently really important. Which means you already value him somehow, and that only happens to you when you really like someone. Also, you might be able to straight-up bluff Batman or Ra’s al Ghul, but I know how you look when you like someone and don’t want anyone to know it.” There’s a beeping noise and Steph digs out her cellphone. “And with those pearls of wisdom, I have to get going. My mom found the cat and she’s having a conniption.”
She turns to leave, pauses once she enters the elevator and turns back around, jabbing a finger at him.
“Shower, eat, go to work, stop obsessing about stuff you can’t control—and don’t try to control stuff that’s not your business.”
Tim bristles. “Yes, Mother.”
“Oh, you did not just go there,” she growls as the elevator doors close and Tim grins until she’s gone.
He knows that Steph’s right, to a certain extent. This whole Jason thing isn’t his business—he was only ever an outside observer, a legacy after the fact. And even if it was his business, it’s not his predecessor’s sensibilities he should be protecting.
Ill-advised crush aside, he doesn’t have any connection loyalty to Jason Todd. He does owe Bruce—he should be going straight to him about this.
Except…
Except, Tim really doesn’t want to be added to the list of people who betrayed Jason’s trust. Especially given how fragile it is given their short acquaintance.
Tim groans and leans back against his chair, wishing for an easy solution. He’s usually able to figure out what to do, even when it comes down to the hard choices.
“Stop obsessing about stuff you can’t control—and don’t try to control stuff that’s not your business.”
Steph’s right.
He’ll do as Jason asked.
Or, at least he’ll give it a week.
If he hasn't figured out any other way to deal with the situation, he'll go to Bruce.
In the meantime—he has an investigation to get back to.
⁂⁂⁂
Next Chapter
#jaytimweek2019#jaytimweek#jaytim#fanfic#prompt: supernatural#jaytim fic#tim drake#drama#mystery#angst#romance#instant attraction#steph being awesome#tim being nosy
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i have no title for this so it’s just a story about aquaman and a tiny merperson reader!
a/n: okay i enjoyed aquaman SO much more than i thought i was going to. jason momoa could kick my ass and i’d thank him. someone requested an aquaman story a few days ago and i literally slept 12 of the 16 hours of my flight so this story is all i have to show for it lmao but pls enjoy
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Arthur was trying to get used to his new status as King. As it turned out, he was rowdy, informal and sometimes rude. But he cared about getting to know his other people and their culture. He didn’t like to show it, but he was thrilled to finally feel like he belonged somewhere.
But he had to clean up Orem’s mess, which was the most difficult thing he’s ever had to do. He had to recompense the Fishermen for Orem murdering their king, he had to convince half the Atlanteans that he wasn’t just a lowly surface-dweller and the other half that he wasn’t going to be as crazy as his half-brother. Having Atlanta back was certainly easting the load off Arthur’s shoulders.
He learned something new every day about Atlantis, the people, his mom, Mera—and especially about being royalty.
That’s where you come in.
You were a merperson, except you were no normal merperson. You were tiny in comparison to everything and everyone around you. In the past, you’ve been able to live in peace with Atlantis—and by peace, you meant that nobody bothered you, so you didn’t bother anyone else. You were sure most Atlanteans didn’t know you existed. It was lonely, but it worked.
But once Orem took rule, he realized the potential for exploitation. He had you and your people tailor his clothes, fetch his food—just about everything a slave would do. And you had no power to stop him or escape, really. Once you were inside the castle, trying to get back to the outside world was much too dangerous.
The peculiar thing about your situation is that nobody knew you were here. Orem had used you in secret, which was the only way he’d be able to get away with it. It was easy for him, too, since you were so small. He would hide you in a specific section of his castle; some place that nobody would be able to find unless they were looking for it.
Arthur wasn’t trying to find you, but he did anyway.
You were confused. It had been a suspiciously long time that Orem had kept you trapped. Usually you would be tasked with something by now. Did this mean Orem was gone? He was rarely ever late.
When you finally heard something, you and the others huddled together. You always did this when Orem came. But when someone that wasn’t Orem came swimming in—someone who, honestly, looked a lot more menacing—you were frozen. You didn’t know what to do.
Arthur was exploring different places around the castle when he found your hiding spot. He knew Orem was a sketchy guy and figured he was bound to have some secret rooms or places he could stash stuff that might make Arthur feel a little more comfortable.
When he found you, though, he was far from comfortable.
“What the hell…?” he muttered. Right in front of him were merpeople, but… they were tiny. And they looked terrified.
“Holy shit,” he said, slowly swimming in closer to where you were. Everyone huddled behind you. You were the only one who Orem ever spoke directly to, because you were the only one brave enough to speak back to him. At the very least, he respected that.
“Who are you?” you yelled up to this mystery man.
Arthur leaned in, trying to get a better look at you in the darkness of this room. You jerked back.
“I’m Aqua—I’m, I’m Arthur,” he stumbled. He was still getting used to that.
“A-Arthur? As in, King—King Orem’s brother?” you managed to get out. Orem would say nothing but terrible things about him.
“Well, half-brother, and he’s not King anymore,” Arthur said dryly. “I am.”
Your face flushed red.
“W-What?”
“Orem’s gone. He’s in sea prison or whatever you guys call it.” He paused. “Who are you guys?”
“We’re the merpeople,” you said, relaxing your muscles a bit.
“Why are you hidden away in this creepy room?”
“Orem put us here. This is where we stay when we’re not on duty.”
Arthur snickered. “On duty? What does that even mean?”
“Fixing his armor, making his breakfast—it varies from day to day, really.”
Arthur realized what you were getting at. “You’re his servants,” he said coldly. He felt his stomach wrench when you nodded nervously.
“Well, Orem’s a huge dick. So I’m not surprised he’d do something like this.”
Arthur took a moment, then extended his hand out. You flinched.
“Come on,” he said. “We gotta get you out of here.”
“We—we can swim just fine—”
“Are you kidding? No offense, but I don’t think you’ll be able to keep up with me. C’mon.”
You knew you could swim just fine, but the last thing you wanted was to get him upset with you. You looked back at the group, who were giving you terrified stares. They didn’t know what to do.
You grabbed the hand of the person behind you, and they grabbed the hand of the person behind them. Slowly, you all swam to Arthur’s open palm. He had to admit, you were all very adorable.
“Are we ready?” he said, cupping his hands together to protect you. You nodded, shivering at just how huge he was. In a moment, you were flying through the water. You were pushed to the back of his hand, and you had to admit, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to keep up with him.
He came to a sudden stop and uncapped his hands.
“You guys alright?” he asked. The rest of the group was a little shaken up, but you felt alright. Or at least that’s what you were telling yourself.
“We’ll take it slow,” Arthur said with a grin as he began to swim away. You quickly caught up with him.
“So, you got a name?” he asked.
“Of course,” you scoffed. “I’m (Y/n).”
“So, (Y/n), you always been the size of an inchworm?”
“I—What—I don’t even know what that means,” you stammered, to which Arthur laughed.
“I’m just teasing. So Orem really kept you as slaves, huh?”
“It wasn’t always like that,” you shot back. “We used to be just as free as anybody. But we were never enthused with the idea of war. You could probably imagine why. And anybody that wasn’t with Orem was against him.”
You paused. You tried to think of how long it’s been that you were with Orem.
“It’s been long enough that I can barely remember my life before this,” you muttered. “It feels weird just talking to you right now, to be honest.”
Arthur laughed at that. “Feels a little weird for me too, pal.”
“Arthur!”
Arthur turned around to find Mera swimming rapidly toward him. “Where have you been? You’re needed at the—o-oh.”
As soon as her eyes met yours, you tensed up. This was Orem’s previous bride-to-be. You didn’t understand Atlantean culture entirely, but you knew this couldn’t be good. You quickly shot behind Arthur and grabbed onto a floating lock of his hair.
“Was that—”
“Merpeople? Yeah. Your psycho ex-fiancee kept them as secret servants,” Arthur said snidely.
“He was NOT my—wait, he-he what?”
Mera noticed how you had all hid behind Arthur. “Why are they afraid of me? I-I’ve never even seen them around here.”
“Well, they probably think you’re here to do Orem’s bidding or whatever,” Arthur said. “Right, (Y/n)?”
You nodded and quickly floated down to Arthur’s shoulder, clinging on for dear life.
‘Man, why are these things so cute?’ Arthur thought to himself.
“I-I’m not!” Mera pleaded. “I didn’t even know he kept merpeople… I’m not going to hurt you guys. Did he… did he ever hurt you?”
You didn’t want to answer that.
“We probably shouldn’t let anyone else know about them,” Mera said matter-of-factly.
“No!” you piped up. The two giants looked down at you.
“You want to be found?”
“Yes! I don’t want to keep hidden any longer. That was the whole problem in the first place,” you said, your voice shaking. “I want Atlantis to know we’re here, too.”
Mera looked at Arthur with worried eyes, but he knew you had a point. He knew what it felt like to be kept away from your own world.
“Well, I think we can arrange that,” Arthur said, half-smiling at you.
You smiled back. You were going to like this new king.
#new comic book universe who dis!!!#sorry this really sucks but i was groggy and tired and wow i'm just glad i wrote this at all honestly#and i'm sure i'll write more!#DC g/t#g/t#giant tiny#giant/tiny#obwrites#aquaman#arthur curry
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Demigod Delinquents | Pt. 9 | OOh thEy’rE iN tRoUBle
| MASTERLIST |
Summary: Man, this mr. Richardon is a real douche. Hate him tbh. But i like this crew dynamic.
Rating: Keaton gets jealous, but nothing else.
A/N: for real you guys, I’ve been feeling so motivated to have these out. cherish this while it lasts. as always, i love you guys and i hope you like this bit because i worked on thi s s o mu c h
~~~
Leo’s POV –
As we stumbled into the Dean’s office, I wondered if I should saunter in and say: You called? #458 in the house!
But then I reconsidered.
The dean sat at her desk, a stern look plastered on her face.
“Well, well. The delinquents finally get here.” She clicked her tongue– a sound I despised, for some reason. “The director has been waiting.” She turned to Mera and Keaton, not saying anything– but her look said it all. You guys are dead. Keaton looked at his lap, but Mera glared back.
Eventually, the dean gave up. “I’m calling in. He might be on a phone call, so bear with me.” She buzzed the intercom, and we waited. I scratched my leg with my foot, then tried shifting my posture to see if it made me look cooler. No such luck. I tapped the armrest agitatedly, looking at the others every 2 seconds. I didn’t want to say anything, because the tension in the air was making me uncomfortable. And besides, the dean was there. She would not approve. So I sat and waited, tapping my foot to keep my calm.
Finally, when it seemed an eternity had passed, the dean looked up from her computer. “You may go.” We started to stand up. “Stay out of trouble, next time.” Ari rolled their eyes, but the dean didn’t see them, apparently. We walked into the other room single file.
The director was a pudgy man, busting through his suit. His form was oddly shaped, which made me wonder, but I tried not to look at him in general. His face was worse. It was rosy and mud-colored. I felt a memory tugging at me– but I let it slide. We already had a pretty good idea that this guy was a monster.
There were only two chairs available. The man in front of us looked like he could take up several, but he sat in an upholstered leather chair similar to a throne. The other two chairs, opposite him and separated by his grandiose wooden desk, were fold out.
“Well? Take a seat!” He demanded. There was an awkward struggle as we figured who got to sit and who didn’t. Then, he waved his hand impatiently and ordered us instead: “Just– the blonde one and prisoner 120. Sit down, I need to talk to you two first.” Jason looked at Keaton, realizing that ‘the blond one’ was him, despite Keaton’s hair color. Jason, who was not one to get in trouble, sat down awkwardly in the rickety chair. Mera clambered into hers, looking upset.
“Sir?” Jason asked quietly. The director went red in the face.
“You do not speak unless I tell you to!” Spit frothed from his mouth, and he dabbed at it with his shirt sleeve. “Pardon. I know you are new here, and you may not be accustomed to our requirements. Please do be considerate.” Jason looked annoyed, but I focused on the glint in Mr. Richardson's eyes.
“Of course, sir. I meant you no disrespect.” He responded in a monotone voice.
“What did I just say?” Mr. Richardson crossed his arms on the table. “Oh, forget it. You children are so stubborn. Never learn.” His voice was gruff and coarse, like sandpaper. “You two have been a cause of some trouble.” He glared pointedly at Jason. “Especially you, I hear.” I almost snickered at the thought that Jason could be more of a troublemaker than me, but remembered what the dean had said. I kept my mouth shut.
He drummed his fingers on the desk, then reached down into his drawer to take out a file. “Well… here it says you slapped another inmate unconscious– we do not, in any circumstances, tolerate physical abuse. Do you understand?”
“I punched him, actually– I mean, yes, sir.”
“Once again, I did not ask you to talk.” Jason opened his mouth, then closed it. “I am disappointed with you, newcomer. You have been given the privilege of a fresh start here at our establishment, and you have already ruined your presence with the board. I would like you to lay low, or be extracted from our system and our penitentiary.” Jason nodded slowly, meeting his eyes. “You may speak.” Jason’s eyes traveled around the room– a sure sign he was coming up with an excuse.
“It was not my intent to knock him unconscious, sir.”
“Well–” Mr. Richardson started.
Jason interrupted before he could spew more nonsense. “He was abusing other inmates, as well. And it seemed like the best solution at the time. I do acknowledge that it was a rash decision, but the past is the past.” Jason stopped to take a breath. “And I also can agree that two wrongs do not make a right, but I have opted out for this special scenario.”
Mr. Richardson looked taken-aback– or as much as he could with his triple chin. Jason started up again. “Sir, I apologize,” he turned to Mera. “For acting out. I assure you it will not happen in the future.” He cleared his throat.
Mr. Richardson straightened his tie, his arms making a weird smushy sound when they moved.
“Mera!” He boomed. “Too many times I have had to call you to this office!” He banged his fist against the table. “Oh… too many.” He clasped his hands together and eyed her hungrily. “If you will, children– I will deal with Ms. Taylor alone.” Mera’s eyes widened. Her eyes went to Percy, and Percy met hers reassuringly.
I wondered what had gone down between them. I knew it wasn’t just about cake. Well, sort of. I guessed it wasn’t just about cake.
Percy raised his hand timidly. “Yes?” Mr. Richardson scowled.
“Do you mind if I remind her of something we must do after this, sir?” Percy said with a shaky voice.
“What?” He demanded, getting impatient.
“We have this guard… she needs something. But it’s quite embarrassing actually, and I don’t think she would appreciate us telling you.” Percy raised his eyebrows.
“Oh, alright.” Mr. Richardson was one to be a skeptic, but so far, Percy hadn’t done anything too bad. He had just hung out with Jason. Percy leaned forward to whisper into her ear. His words were not audible from where I was, but his face showed urgency in what he was telling her. Then, with one last showy gesture, he handed Mera a pen. Riptide. “What is the pen, 456?” Percy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“My good luck charm.” He coughed into his fist.
“Ugh. Just get out of here.” We filed out of the doorway. When the door was closed, we sat down in the Dean’s room. Old Stern wasn’t there.
“What was that, Jackson?” Percy’s eyes warned me.
Keaton seemed to study Percy a little more carefully now. Like he was… jealous? “What was it, Jackson?” Percy touched his pocket out of habit. Then he snapped to look at me, a look of accusation spreading through his face.
“It’s not my good luck charm.” He laughed. “That should’ve been obvious. Man, that Richardson is not the sharpest knife in the drawer.”
“Then what was it?” Keaton asked again, this time looking upset.
“Like those pen weapons. Except… better.” Keaton looked a little offended, to say the least, but he was intrigued. “You’ll know what I told her when she gets out.” So we sat in silence as the clock ticked, waiting for Mera to be released. I heard a scuffle, then the door creaked open. “Did you…?” Percy asked her, looking at the pen in her hand. Mera shook her head.
“He, like, looked at me, then his face contorted a bit and he changed the look, and then he had to take off. No idea why.” She handed Percy the golden pen. “Thanks, anyways.” I dusted my hands off on my lap.
“Well, we can go now, then.” Keaton nodded. His eyes bobbed from Mera to Percy, trying to decipher what was going on between them. He looked at his lap, defeated.
“Okay.” And we clamored down the halls, eager to be gone from the horrid room.
A/N: I know this chapter is soooo short but the next chapter is going to be out in a quick moment so no problemo i promise
#pjo#hoo#pjo hoo#pjo and hoo#pjo fanfiction#hoo fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfiction oc#pjo fanfiction oc#hoo fanfiction oc#oc#percy jackson fanfiction#percy jackson oc#percy jackson fanfiction oc#percy jackson#jason grace#leo valdez#jercy#prcabeth#caleo#jiper#percy jason and leo#let's be deluded
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Once ED-E and I made it to REPCONN and cleared out most of the feral ghouls, we realized that there was some sort of strange cult made of a bunch of non-feral ghouls. Their leader, Jason Bright, a glowing one, sent me on a quest to help him and his people get to the ‘far beyond.’ It involved clearing the basement of Nightkin to help get the rockets the test site still had up and ready for the ghouls to go on their journey. I had the option to screw the whole plan up but I didn’t do so because I’m not that kind of person. I managed to launch the rockets off with ease. What am I doing with my life? I’m supposed to be looking for that checkered suit asshat. Anyways.
~~~~~
I go back to Manny as the sun is starting to set.
Freddie: The ghouls are no longer at REPCONN.
Manny: Really? Unbelievable, man! I knew that wasn’t gonna be easy. But I had a good feeling about you. You look like you been through a lot.
Look huh?
Freddie: Now about the man I’m looking for…
Manny: Okay, I’ll tell you everything I know, like I promised. The guy you’re looking for, Benny, he was traveling with some members from my old gang. They were going to Boulder City.
At last, I get a name for the man who shot me.
Freddie: Where’s Boulder City?
Manny: It’s straight up Route 93 from here. Just keep following the road north.
Freddie: Any idea why they went that way?
Manny: No clue. I know Benny hadn’t paid up yet. Maybe that was where they were supposed to get square.
Freddie: Hm, well thanks, Manny. That’s all I needed to know.
Manny: Hope that helps. I owed you.
I make my way out of the dinosaur and into my motel room where I can finally rest up before I make my way to Boulder City. I tell ED-E to power down for today, he gently floats down onto the floor after doing so.
~~~~~
Not long after I fall dead asleep I wake to the sound of a gun going off. Is that Manny? Strange. I best go check that out. I leap from my bed and run over to the T-Rex, once inside I run up the stairs and open the door but instead of Manny I see a man in a dirty white shirt. He didn’t notice me even if when that door is kind of loud due to age. I tapped his shoulder and he quickly turns around with his sniper pulled out.
Freddie: Woah! Friendly fire!
He quickly puts it away.
Boone: Goddamn it! Don’t sneak up on me like that. What do you want?
He says very angrily with me. This guy looks like he hasn’t slept in ages but honestly who sleeps these days anyway.
Freddie: Were you expecting visitors?
Boone: Yeah. I guess maybe I am. But not like you. Huh. Maybe it should’ve been you I was expecting all along.
Why does it sound like everyone is flirting with me? Guess my head isn’t right yet.
Boone: Why are you here?
Freddie: Oh I just like meeting new people.
Boone: I think you’d better leave.
Freddie: Come on man, I’m just making friendly conversation.
Boone: I don’t have friends here.
Not getting rid of me that easily. I have to get this guy to open up just a little.
Freddie: Well, I’m not from here, buddy.
Boone: No. No you’re not, are you? Maybe you shouldn’t go. Not just yet. I need someone I can trust. You’re a stranger. That’s a start.
See what I mean?
Freddie: You only trust strangers?
Boone: I said it was a start. This town… Nobody looks me straight in the eye anymore.
Freddie: What do you need me to do?
Boone: I want you to find something else for me. I don’t know if there’s anything to find, but I need someone to try. My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch. They knew when to come and what route to take, and they only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don’t know who.
Woah, this got dark fast.
Freddie: You’re trying to track down your wife?
He gives me an angry expression.
Boone: My wife’s dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her.
Okay!
Freddie: How do you know she’s dead?
Boone: I know, all right? And that’s all you need to know.
He snaps at me and I raise my hands up to calm him down.
Freddie: What do I do if I find this person?
Boone: Bring him out in front of the nest here while I’m on duty. I work nights. I’ll give you my NCR beret to put on. It’ll be our signal, so I know you’re standing with him. And I’ll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself.
Freddie: Alright, Boone, I'll see what I can do.
Boone: Good. I’ll make it worth your while. And one more thing. We shouldn’t speak again. Not until it’s over. No one in town knows that I know what happened to my wife. Best they never know. Or the Legion will be after me next.
He hands me his beret and I make my way out of the dinosaur. Boone’s putting a lot of faith into me and hopes I can find whoever sold his wife to the Legion. I have to ask around and look around to find solid evidence on who did it. I’ve got your back, Boone.
~~~~~
First, I check in with Cliff Briscoe, owner of the little shop in the dinosaur. He says that he and Carla didn’t speak much. Said she was in his store once but didn’t stay long. He also said that Boone did most of the buying for them. He goes on to say that she had a look on her face like she’d smell something sour, but that the shop always smelled as fine as it always does. Secondly, I go find Ranger Andy. Said Carla was a knockout and that whenever Boone walked around her, he always had this funny grin on his face like he couldn’t believe his luck.
Ranger Andy: I knew we couldn’t. That wasn’t the only reason she stuck out. That girl never minced words. If she’s had better food or hospitality, she’d let you hear it. Trouble was, she usually had. I don’t think she meant it. She really was a sweet girl. I think she just wanted to remind herself that there are still nicer places in the world than Novac. Who could blame her for that?
Seems like Andy thought kindly of Carla, so not that person I’m looking for.
Next, I find Manny in his room. He tells me that Boone and he used to be snipers for the NCR but now their not a friendly terms.
Freddie: Why are you in bad terms with Boone?
Manny: Me and his wife, we didn’t see eye-to-eye on some things. We had some pretty big arguments. One day she turns up missing, and he hasn’t said a word to me since.
Boone must think Manny had something to do with his wife going missing. He tells me that he had a problem with Boone’s wife trying to take him away from Manny, he obviously had a big problem with some city lady taking his best friend away.
Manny: Believe me. When I heard the news my first thought was, I owe somebody, big. I figured Boone would come around after a while. But he hasn’t. And I’m starting to think that if he doesn’t find her, things will never go back to the way they were.
Freddie: Just how many people hated Carla?
Manny: Man, everybody. That girl didn’t have one friend in this whole town. She didn’t want any. She wanted to sit in her room all day and make herself miserable. And she went out of her way to be rude. She upset a lot of people. You wouldn’t have liked her, either.
I feel like Manny is taking a few liberties with this story, she couldn’t have been that awful. I thank him anyway and finally decide to check up Jeannie, the owner of Novac.
Freddie: What can you tell me about Boone’s wife?
Jeannie: How should I put it? I guess you could say she was kinda like a cactus flower. Real pretty to look at, but there was just no getting close to her. She never did take living here. She liked the big lights and fast living of New Vegas. I got the feeling she was trying to get Boone to leave with her, but I guess she got tired of waiting. I know he thinks she was kidnapped, but I’m not so sure she didn’t just run off on her own. You could tell she was thinking about it ever since they arrived.
Well, that whole story sounds like a bunch of brahmin shit! Something isn’t adding up with Jeannie’s story, so far I’ve heard that she loved Boone quite a lot and he loved her. Why the hell would she just get up and walk off? Especially with how dangerous the Mojave is. I think Jeannie is hiding something and I intend to find out. I wait around the main office until Jeannie walks out to go to her room. I’ve seen a safe just behind the desk there, maybe there’s something inside that could help me.
I get up to unlock the safe and once I’m in I see a piece of paper, after reading I found out that it’s a bill of sale… For Carla… I read that the Legion came by and offered to buy her off of Jeannie, she gave them rights of ownership and sale for one thousand bottle caps. Things get worse as I go on and read “...and those of her unborn child for the sum of five hundred bottle caps…”
Boone was right all along, Jeannie was annoyed with Carla because she was a bit of a snob and sold her as a slave along with her unborn child. This is the most horrifying thing I’ve heard so far. All because she didn’t like her?! Well, it’s time for Boone to get his revenge.
~~~~~
I go to Jeannie’s room and knock on the door, she opens the door.
Freddie: Hey, Jeannie, Come with me. There’s something you should see, in front of the dinosaur.
Jeannie: Okay. If that’s what you think.
Yeah, I do think that.
I lead her out of Novac and right in front of the nest like Boone said. She looks around at nothing while I put it on Boone’s beret and he takes the shot right then and there. I’m caught off guard.
Freddie: Fuck!
I jump out of the way as Jeannie falls to the ground, her head was completely blown off. Talk about some shot. I rush back to the dinosaur and up the stairs where Boone is waiting for me.
Boone: That’s it. How did you know?
I hand him the bill of sale.
Freddie: I found this in her safe, Jeannie did it.
Boone: I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’d be like them to keep paperwork.
Boone takes his beret back but gives me another 1st Recon beret he had with him.
Boone: Here. This is all I can give. I think our dealings are done here.
Freddie: What will you do after this?
Boone: I don’t know. I won’t be staying. I know that. Don’t see much point in anything right now, except hunting legionaries. Maybe I’llwonder, like you.
Freddie: Hey, why don’t you come with me? Let’s go after the Legion.
Boone: You don’t want to do that.
Freddie: We’ll kill more with two of us.
Boone: Yeah. That might be true. And that’s reason enough for me to take you up on it. I suppose. But this isn’t gonna end well.
<Boone has given you the Spotter perk, this will help you see enemies from far away or even the dark much better>
Boone: Fine. Let’s get out of here.
Freddie: Great. We heading to New Vegas. I have a score to settle. Wait, the name Benny doesn’t mean anything to you does it?
Boone: No.
I put on the beret that he gave me.
Freddie: Since you gave me this one, do you ever take yours off?
Boone: No.
What an open book this guy is.
Freddie: Alright. Let’s go then, I just need to go grab ED-E real fast. Been asleep this whole time. Poor little buddy.
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stephcass + “don’t give me space. that’s the last thing i want with you.” / ps i love ur writing! 💖
thank u so much!!!!!!!!!!!! i had quite a bit of trouble writing this but i think im finally happy with it so! hope u enjoy
Steph’s at the manor, for once, trying to mend the fragile pieces of her and Tim’s failing friendship by pretending she does actually care about the new video game he’s got, except he seems to have forgotten or just didn’t realise she was serious when she told him she was coming over, because Tim’s room is empty and Alfred has told her he’s not in the Cave, so instead she’s sitting in the kitchen acting like she wants to finish the tea Alfred poured her, and feeling more out of place than she has in a while.
Bruce has already been in and asked her if she wants to come downstairs. She couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or just asking out of courtesy, so instead she had declined and texted Tim for the third time in five minutes, threatening to cream pie his pillow or something if he doesn’t hurry up.
Steph hears the front door open and foolishly gets up to go and investigate. She’s halfway through a reprimanding lecture about manners and checking your phone when she realises it’s Cass who’s walked through the door, not Tim.
“Oh.” Stephanie says, her face going hot, and then she’s turning around and walking into the reading room and really hoping Cass has like, groceries to put away or her jacket to hang up or something so she doesn’t follow her in.
She double-texts Tim, which makes five texts in ten minutes, and chews her lip.
She could leave. She probably should leave. She’s half-way through Top Gun and it’s probably the first movie in a while she’s watched and not forgotten the plot of immediately after the credits roll.
Her phone buzzes.
Shit. Sorry. Forgot. I’ll be home in like an hour?
Love u
U can have my leftover Chinese 4 ur trouble
Steph scowls and texts back.
Fuck you.
She also can’t have his leftovers, because she’s pretty sure she’d seen Damian eating it when she first arrived.
“Stephanie.” A voice behind her says, and two years ago Steph probably would have jumped or something, but training with Batman did teach her some things before her untimely death.
So she turns slowly and really wishes she could pull a Jason and ‘peace out’ through the living room window.
“Hey Cass.” Steph smiles, feeling jumpy, and Cass smiles back. It actually seems genuine, which leaves Steph feeling guilty because she doesn’t deserve smiles from Cass. Steph prides herself on wriggling her way back into the lives of the Wayne men, but when it comes to Cass she would rather die again than relive the disappointment she knows Cass feels when she’s around her.
“You’re waiting for Tim?” Cass asks, and her speech is so much clearer than what it was, and she actually knows how to enunciate her feelings into her questions now.
Jason has done a good job with finishing up Cass’s speech therapy. Steph supposes that if anyone should have, it was him.
“Yeah but he uh. He forgot. So I might just go home, you know. Not much else to do here.” Steph says, already making to get up, and Cass frowns at her.
“Have I upset you?” Cass asks, straight to the point, and Steph wishes for anything - Damian coming in with a knife he’s snuck out of the Cave, or Bruce needing Cass’s help looking over a case, or Alfred needing someone to taste dinner, but Steph has never caught a break in her life, so it sure as hell won’t happen now.
“No.” Steph says, jutting her chin out. She’s not sure why she’s being so defensive. Maybe because, apart from Tim, Cass was the only other person she felt actually appreciated having her around. And now Steph has ruined that.
“Oh. I just thought- Well you just hang out with Tim and Jason and you’re even talking to Bruce again but you seem to avoid me when I try and talk to you.” Cass explained. It’s probably the most Cass has said out loud to Steph, and she’s a little taken aback.
“I mean. I’m not- You want to talk to me?” Steph asks, a little shocked, and Cass gives her a confused look.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Cass asks, and she sounds a little bit hurt, and Steph coughs to cover her hysterical laugh.
“I dunno. The whole gang war thing? Me dying? I guess I figured you were angry at me like everyone else.” Steph shrugs. It doesn’t hurt anymore, admitting that.
Cass just looks bewildered.
“Stephanie… You were - are - my closest friend. I was angry about what happened to you, not at you. And I was… Upset, too.” Cass says. She’s walked closer to Steph, who can’t actually meet her eyes, so just stares at their feet instead.
Cass is wearing some monster slippers Steph had bought her for a joke months ago, and Steph gets a lump in her throat that tells her she’s seconds away from bursting to tears.
“You never… You never visited me. Or anything.” Steph says, fiddling with her hair tie.
“I thought it would be best to give you space. From us. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or sad and we didn’t know what you’d be like when you came back… How you would react.” Cass explains.
The room is quiet. Outside it’s raining, and Steph can hear the fat droplets splatter against the windows.
“You don’t… Give me space.” Steph mocks, in a deep voice she usually saves for Damian, but she looks up at Cass nevertheless and continues.
“That’s the last thing I wanted from you. You were the only one who seemed to somewhat help when everything turned to shit and then you… Disappeared. I thought you were mad at me.” Steph says, the lump in her throat difficult to talk around, but she must get her message across because Cass’s eyes go soft and her mouth turns.
“I see.” Cass says. She’s looking at Steph like she can’t quite figure her out, which is hilarious, because Steph wears her heart - and emotions - on her sleeve anyways, even more so when it comes to Cass, which she used to hate but just wishes Cass would get it so that she can leave the manor and pretend this conversation never happened.
Cass reaches out and pushes some hair out of her face, behind her ear. Her hand lingers on her cheek, and Steph wants to do something stupid like push her face into Cass’s hand.
It feels warm. Steph hasn’t felt warm since she came back, and something in her drops when Cass pulls her hand away again.
She should have kept her promise to herself about staying away from the manor. She’s already composing the text she’s going to send Tim when this is all over, blaming him.
“I have missed you.” Cass says, and Steph’s heart skips.
It’s not meant to be this easy, Steph thinks, as Cass takes her hand and pulls her over to the couch, but it is. Something bad will probably come from Cass being able to read Steph like a book, but she figures she’ll deal with that later - once she’s beaten Tim up for “accidentally” forgetting about her coming over, that is.
#stephcass#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#answered#i hateeeee this ending i might re write it and put this on ao3 but! until then#guysgardener#fic: mine
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(A stitch in time.. saves.... Pops from being a huge asshole.)
Isaac:
*After sleeping.. for however long we slept, my body had a chance to heal up for the most part. I still felt week as fuck. Turning over in bed, your side empty. But I could smell food. You were in the kitchen and that made me smile. I managed uto roll out of bed without too many issues. My sides are still sore from ribs healing, carefully slipping into a pair of boxers before making my way out to join you. I had to lean against the counter for support but damn it, I made it.
I stood quietly and watched you, just last night you told me you loved me and I said it right back without hesitation. This time without being stabbed so I think we made some progress. My head tilts, doing an examination of your body. One of concern and maybe a little bit of me just wanting to check you out. Who could blame me? You were this tall, dark and extremely fucking handsome man and you loved -me-. I didn't know how I got so lucky but I wouldn't take this love or you for granted.
I carefully reach out and draw my fingers over your arm, both of us not really wanting to make sudden moves after everything. But I wanted to touch you. To feel your skin.* Hey, handsome..
Ewan:
I’d woken at the crack of dawn, Wings slept beside me, where he should be. His fingers on my chest, his face peaceful, God he looked so good damn perfect. I brushed my lips across his forehead and slipped quietly out of the bed. I put on the coffee machine, my mind replaying the things we’d been through; he’d been through to get me back. I sat down at the kitchen table, my injuries still not healed properly, but Wings had healed me, and I could still feel him inside of me working his magic.
I sat for a while, then smiled. My Angel would need to be fed. I began to cook bacon, eggs, and refilled the pot with fresh coffee. I heard your footsteps. A shuffle along the corridor. You weren't healed yet. Your touch set my skin a light, and when I turned, I saw the strain in your face. I didn't wait; I picked you off the floor and took you to the kitchen table, placing you on the seat. I kissed you slowly, tenderly. “You stay there,” I said after kissing you. “It's my turn to take care of you.” I kissed you and held up a finger. “Don’t argue with me.”
Isaac:
Oh so this is how things are going to be now? *I teased as you lifted me right up off the floor and carried me over to the table, putting me in a chair. I smiled up at you, cupping your face as you kissed me. The taste of your mouth always did something to me, causing that hum to sound out into your lips.* Someone is full of my grace and bossy this morning. Keep going. It's a huge turn on..
*I bit on my lip as I watched you, there wasn't any arguing on my part, the thought of you taking care of me really warmed my heart.. and other places. My body might not be at complete strength but I can feel my dick is working just fine.*
How are you feeling? I woke up frisky for fucks sake. Now I can't stop watching your ass. *A smirk claims my lips as I sit back and watch you work around that kitchen. This would be a brilliant time for that apron you got me. Only you in it without clothes would be.. groans.. fuck. Stop that before I tear the seam out in these boxers.*
Ewan:
I wiggled my arse, knowing exactly what it would do to you. “Yes, this is how it's going to be….” I poured the eggs into the pan to scramble them. “When you've eaten, we are going to take care of those wings of yours. They need cleaning.” A hint of amusement flowed through my voice. I loved running my fingers through your wings, and my dick loved your reaction to it. I took the bacon out; the only difference this time would be that I would be taking care of you, not trying to drain your dick of its contents.
The eggs quickly scrambled, and I plated the food up; the smells of the food and coffee filled the room. My stomach approved. I brought your food over with a coffee, kissing your head as I placed it in front of you. My Angel. I went back to my food and came to sit opposite you. With a smile, I began eating. The food wasn't as good as yours but edible at least, thankfully.
“You can't go back to the bar until you're fully healed; Jason will have to cope. He's managed before…” I laughed. “Plus, the ladies will help him. We will have to have another night for us all when you're fit and well again.”
Isaac:
*Food was brought to me, coffee as well. Served with a kiss to my head. I definitely wasn't used to being served. It made me blush a bit but I didn't mind it at all. I forked at a bite of eggs, bringing it up to my mouth. I groaned. Damn. These were super fluffy.* You may have to be the egg maker in this relationship..
*I winked over at my handsome man. Fuck. I love you, and you love me. How the hell did I get so lucky? You even want to help me with my wings. Which is very sacred to me. You know that. I sat quietly for a while and ate some of my breakfast, washing it down with the coffee. Which you always do so perfectly.*
Yeah.. we can get to the wings.. just don't be alarmed. They got damaged but I promise you, they'll heal. They always do. Once my body is all good to go, the grace will work on those last.
*I smiled over at you, letting my foot run over the back of your leg. Even though my body still felt somewhat weak, I couldn't stop smiling. You were here with me, back in this cabin and we have proclaimed our love for one another. I honestly have never been this happy.*
Ewan:
I watched out the corner of my eye as I ate my food, making sure you were eating yours. A sense of relief swept through me as you did. Eating would help you heal. I assumed. Feeling your foot against my leg sent a wave of warmth over my skin, but your words had me placing down my cutlery. “What do you mean, don't worry?” I hadn't seen your wings since we got back. I swallowed thickly; a wave of fear, panic rose in my chest. “How bad?” When you looked at me, I glared back. “Wings, how bad are they?” I stood and took the plates, striding across the kitchen; I didn't care. They still had food left on them. “Show me your wings.” I stood on the other side of the kitchen, giving you room. “Show me.”
The fear and panic were beginning to grow, my breath catching. Your wings, fuck, injured. You’d saved me, and your wings had been hurt. I stood waiting for you to show me; time stood still as you seemed to move in slow motion. “Wings, show me!” I said breathlessly. My heart began pounding in my chest; my palms began to sweat as I waited.
Isaac:
*You begin asking about my wings, guilt set in. I didn't want you to have something else to feel bad about. Hence the warning. I was just trying to prepare you for the condition they were in. You stood and took my plate as I just took another bite of eggs. I guess we're doing this now. I let out a soft exhale and set my fork down where my plate had been.*
Alright. I'll show you.
*I stood and let the cloak dissipate around me, letting my wings appear as I pushed in my chair. I couldn't see them properly so I wasn't sure on the exact state they were in. But I knew they looked bad. They fan out around me, showing broken quills, blood stains all around them and spots where there was nothing at all. The bullets had shredded them badly.*
Ewan.. So there were bullets. And as an automatic defense, my wings deflected most of them. That's why they're all broken and worse for wear. The blood is either mine, yours or one of the men I killed that night. *I turned and cupped your face, hiding my wings against my back. I look right into your eyes as my thumbs stroke over your cheeks.* They will heal. I promise. Please don't be upset.
Ewan:
I stood motionless, all except my eyes which slowly took in every individual feather. The small feathers had mostly missed any abuse, but all the other feathers, holes through them from bullets, jagged ends from fuck knows what. Feathers stuck together with blood, stains splattered across them. I felt your thumbs on my face after you’d folded your wings away before I’d finished looking at them.
“I know they will.” I tried my hardest to give you the best smile I could. I leant forward and kissed those perfect lips of yours. “Go and sit down. I’ll bring your food back.”
As you walked away, to go back to the chair as I asked, I turned to the counter. The rage I'd felt at looking at your wings was caught in my chest, festering. Your pain, I’d caused, your injuries I’d caused: your wings, my fault. My fingers dug into the counter; I counted in my head.....they said count to ten......I tried. Fuck. Shit. The rage, regret, guilt rose and spilt over. My hand scooped the plates in front of me, and as they hit the wall and smashed at the other side of the room, I turned and looked at you.
“Let me clean them.”
Isaac:
*The sound of the plates shattering startles me, jumping right off that chair and spinning around, ready for the next fight. Only there wasn't one. At least I hope there wasn't. By the looks of it, you were angry. I knew it wasn't really at me, but more towards the condition my wings were in. My heart raced, still gathering myself after the plates crashing against the wall. I glanced over at them and then back at you.*
You want to clean my wings? You sure as fuck better be more gentle with them than you look right now. Because right now, you're scaring me.
*I practically glared right at you. After everything we have been through, worrying about something that will heal is pointless. I kneel down and grab a couple pieces of broken china, coming over to the trashcan and dropping them in.* I'll clean the plates up after, okay?
Ewan:
My head dropped at your words. “I will be...Wings...” I turned my head and looked at you; that one look subdued the rage inside me; I hadn't meant to scare you; I pushed my hands from the counter and closed the distance between us. My arms wrapped around your body, pulling you in close to me. “I'm sorry.....”
The shower was big enough for Wings to spread his feathers; my heart broke as I looked at the quills in front of me. My fingertips touched them tentatively, gently, I coaxed each feather to release it's haul, the clear water running red when it hit the tiles of the shower floor. I knew when something hurt you, the song of happiness you sang, your hum faltered. I would stop and move on to the next feather. I wasn't sure how much time passed, but it was worth it. The rage had sated for now...as long as I didn't stare at the broken feathers. Guilt was a bitch, and she was whipping my arse.
Isaac:
*I felt a lot of guilt as I stood there being taken care of by you. I was the Angel. I am the one that's supposed to keep my head high and take care of others. No one looked after me the way you did. It made me love you even more. To love me at my worst. My lowest. My weakest. But isn't that what good love is supposed to do for you?
I stood perfectly still as you went about cleaning my wings. Though everything in me was wanting to turn around and kiss you, hold you, tell you how much this means to me, I hold back. Time. We have plenty of time. The guilt comes in because I can feel how sorry you are that this happened to me. My wings got damaged and even though in a few days they'll be good as new, right now, I knew you needed this. To take care of me in a way no one else can. I closed my eyes, my lips carrying a soft smile as I spoke up.*
I love you, Ewan.
Ewan:
Your words echoed around the tiled room above the sound of rushing water. I couldn't help the smile that formed on my lips and for second, I closed my eyes. The last time we were here, the happiness, the warmth, love. Then my eyes opened, Wings broke quills before me. I continued to wash them gently.
“I love you, Wings.” I slid my hands around your waist, being careful not to bend or hurt your feathers. “Wings, thank you.” We stood there, Wings in my arms, me willing his feathers whole, his whole. I stepped back, the broken feathers at least clean; I couldn't say they looked better; that would be a lie. At least now, though, they were the colour they should be.
Isaac:
*We spent a little more time in the shower, cleaning up and just enjoying each other's company. When we got out, you insisted on taking the time to dry the wings, being careful with the fragile ones. Once they were all cleaned and dried, I put them back away under the cloak and suggested for us to climb back in bed. I was tired already. The grace would take another day to fully power me back to good again. For now, every little thing I did took so much energy while still trying to heal. It sucked. All outwardly wounds had been healed and disappeared but inside I was still close to empty on the grace scale.
I didn't bother with clothes. It would have taken too much effort. And there was no way I would let my boyfriend dress me. Nope. I climbed in bed and gave you my saddest puppy dog eyes, wanting you to join me. Being this needy was different for me as well. But if I was going to rest and let myself recharge, I wanted you in bed with me so I could feel you, touch you and be close to you.*
Ewan:
Wings frame was slightly droopy, as though you were a balloon slowly deflating. I’d kept you standing for too long. I watched as you climbed into bed, the grace in my body reacting to the pain in yours, I winced, not because I could feel the actual pain, but, because I knew it was there. Fuck. Guilt. After you managed to get on the bed, wrapped in the sheet naked, I’d have offered to help you dress but you didn’t seem that interested.
Your eyes said it all when they looked at me and my feet answered the silent call from them. I was in the bed, gently edging you to my chest for a pillow, my arms wrapping around you. “Sleep Wings, I’m not going anywhere.” I kissed the top of your head not wanting you to move again for the night.
Isaac:
*Getting to curl up against you was just what I needed. You pull me in and make it even more perfect. A few more sleepy words, sleepy kisses and I am out like a light. Through dreams of you, I find myself fighting my way back to your arms again. I guess it was just who I was to the very core. The one who would scorch the very ground I walk on to be back with you. In your arms. To feel your touch. To feel your lips. I was absolutely in love with you. And I would do anything for you. Anything.
I feel the overwhelming urge to fight. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, a lick of electric races right up my spine. Something was trying to take you from me and I was ready to destroy whatever it was. I sat up ready to fight, one hand on your chest, the other hand already lit with Heavens fire, ready to fight.* EWAN!
((Michael))
I could feel my sons pain. The complete anguish of losing someone he loves. I did not pretend to understand the silly notion of loving anyone. It was a human condition and I surely did not identify with those creatures. Gods little experiment had gone on too long in my opinion..
Ewan:
My eyes flew open, my heartbeat so hard in my chest I wasn't sure whether it was a heart attack or just bored of being in my rib cage and wanted to escape. Something had woken me; adrenaline pumped through my veins, and my whole body was on alert. “Wings? Wings?”
You were sat bolt upright in bed, your palm aflame ready for action. I placed my hand on your back, sat up slowly, unsure if you were awake or dreaming. “Wings?” I asked in a voice that was a lot calmer than I felt. I reached for your outstretched arm; my ears had already taken in the quietness; there was also no scent apart from ours. My hand wrapped around your extended arm, “Wings, come back to me. There's no one there. I promise you.” My lips pressed against your skin. “I'm right here, next to you.” I slowly edged my body around you; that damn fire would incinerate me in a second, but that was nothing to what we had been through to get here. I slid my hand down your arm, ready for the pain.
Isaac:
*I was in a haze, was it a dream or was I here with you and the danger had just been a dream? I felt your kiss, your touch, heard your voice and then something was coming into my line of vision and for a split second all I could think was that I needed to protect you. I grab the figure in front of me with that deadly hand and with that second of hesitation, I see the face aglow with fire threatening to consume you. Completely horrified I shove you away from me and jump all the way back on the bed, slamming against the wooden bedframe. Both hands clutching my face in horror of what I almost did. If I hadn’t seen your eyes, I would have killed the man I’d fallen in love with. My entire body shook, I let out a sob at what I had done. I couldn’t even look up, I didn’t dare look upon your face. I was ashamed. I had given everything to heal you only to almost take you out because I was spooked.
I sputtered out a string of apologies, begging for your forgiveness as I wrapped my arms around my legs, bringing my knees up to my chest, hugging them into place there. My face stays hidden as I turn to the opposite wall, hiding my eyes, hiding my tears from you.*
Ewan:
“Fuck” The words a little louder than I wanted them to be, but I wasn't expecting the hand to be turned to me. The hand that was full of flames. My skin recoiled at the heat; it would be safe to blush; no one would be able to tell. Suddenly, everything went dark, my vision quickly clearing but with an imprint of fire floating around. My body moved backwards as you shoved me and jumped to the back of the bed; you curled around yourself, and for a split second, I was shocked. “Wings, it's okay. I'm okay.” You wouldn't look at me; I could hear your sobs, and my heart broke. “Wings, please.” I crawled to the back of the bed, my arms wrap around you tightly, pulling you to me. “I’m fine.....I may not need to use a sun bed for a few weeks but Wings....” I slid my hand under your chin carefully, urging, coaxing your head to look at me. “Wings, I love you, please look at me.” Once you saw me, you’d see I was okay, and you needed that.
Isaac:
*I didn't believe you. Not at first. No at first I assumed you were just underplaying the severity of the situation. I could have killed you. That was a fucking fact. With one touch of my hand. Incineration within seconds. I felt the shift in the mattress with your weight joining me again on the bed. I curled up tighter, not wanting to hurt you. I flinched when your hand slipped beneath my chin, you brought my head around to look at you. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes, pooling from them and streaming down my cheeks. Through the tears I can still see you. Unharmed from what I could tell. Your words make my heart ache. Truly ache. I kept my hands gripping my legs though, still afraid my hands would manage to hurt you somehow.*
Ewan.. I could have killed you. I'm a walking, talking, danger to you. To everyone. My existence is fucking cursed. *I used my forearm to wipe away my tears, still trying to make sure I don't touch you.* I love you, Ew. I need to tell you that..
*I suddenly felt this sharp pain in my head, a razor sharp stinging ringing between my ears, my hands clutching my head.* fuck.. make it stop! FUCK!
Ewan:
The tears were flowing freely when you looked at me; I closed my eyes. It pained me to hear the horror and pain in your tone. “Wings, you could have, but you didn't; you realised it was me.” Lifting my thumbs, I gently wiped away the tears your arm had left behind. My knees edged closer to you, and I placed my hands over yours, hoping the small gesture would make you realise that I wasn't scared of what you could do and that I trusted you. I was about to slide my hands down your arms and bring you back close to me, hoping you'd let go of your legs, when suddenly your hands moved to your head, and you were screaming.
Fuck, was something happening to you because you'd taken the fore back into yourself? I shot off the bed. “Wings?” I wasn't sure what to do, I got back on the bed. If you went up in flames, so did I. Wrapping my arms around you, I rocked you, pulling you in so close while you screamed.
Isaac:
*The pain scorches through my veins. It felt as if my muscles were shivering, terrified for the next wave of it. I felt incredible loss when you scrambled off the bed and before I could reach for you, you're back and your arms embrace me. My body envelops the fire, once lighting my hand now taken inward and extinguished. That's what this was, right? I couldn't think, couldn't focus on the cause. I clung to you like my life depends on it. And fuck. For all I knew, maybe it did depend on it.*
E-ewan. *My body curls up against yours as just as quick as it begins, it vanishes just as fast. The pain, like a flash of white hot lightning, it licked through my entire body and it left. It's just… gone and there's just you and I and you holding me.*
please don't let go. I don't know what this is and I need you.
Ewan:
Your body had balled up against me like a child to a parent, your words causing everything in me to want to wrap you up and hide you away from the world. “I'm not going anywhere, Wings.” I could feel your body shaking against mine, this time not in the throes of passion but something else. I reached out for the blankets, all tangled and strewn; I pulled, and they obeyed.
I wrapped the blankets around your shaking body, edged us both towards the pillows; perhaps if I could get you to sleep for a while, that would help. In honesty, I didn't know what would, but I knew two things. I wouldn't leave you like this, and nothing or no one was getting near you. Although I held you gently, pressing kisses to your head while my hand ghosted over your skin, my whole body was on alert.
Isaac:
*Something was wrong. I knew it. I felt it. I held onto you tightly, knowing you were the only thing anchoring me to reality right now. If you didn't have me in your arms I would be spinning out. Letting my mind run away with wayward possibilities of what the universe was trying to tell me. How long had something been wrong? My grace was back on line, like freeing up the means of celestial communication. My own workings of spidey senses if you will. I was afraid to vocalize my worries out loud, not wanting to alarm you after just getting you back. My behavior was frightening enough I'm sure. And I never would have forgiven myself if I had warmed you.
My hand rested over your chest, a faint outline of where my fiery hand made contact when I shoved you away from me. You were that close to going up in flames. And then what? I would have done anything in my power to undo it. If I could that is. Heaven's fire is nothing to laugh at. It's the end all be all. My judge, jury and executioner. I would have thrown my body over yours and begged to die with you. In vain of course. But I would have lived an eternity of guilt for killing you. My arms circle around your waist and I curl myself against you. The world was burning around us and my body knew it, it was closing in. I can feel it with every fiber of my being. But for tonight, you held me, you protected me. It was everything I needed.*
((Michael))
I simply detest being down here amongst the animals my Father created. Sadly my son had become one of those but of my own hand it was me to blame. I suppose that's why I must see to it that things correct themselves. Things like this are very delicate in nature, the ebb and flow of things as they spin through the measures of time. Things like this indeed are delicate. You cannot just unflap the butterfly's wings and arrange things as you want them.. but perhaps giving a helping nudge in the correct direction won't hurt.
There was so much to see to. As I look in on Isaac and his shifter, I have to remind myself that this is what needs to be done. He never should have been allowed to breathe in that first breath and now everything is in the balance, depending on what my next move is.. could make things right again. Continuing on this path with that man holding him will only prove everyone right. My son cannot be stopped unless I put an end to all this now. The situation is at a critical level. It was now or never.
Enjoy these moments, Isaac. Enjoy them while I allow you to..
#TBC
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Red Hood and The Outlaws : Loyalty (Chapter 19)
[Read on AO3] [Previous Chapter]
Chapter 19 : The Bait
Men aspire to be exceptional, to do incredible things. As children, they wish to become presidents, astronauts, vets or even princesses or knights or dragon slayers. They want to save lives. They want to make people happy. They want to make their parents proud. Normality bores them. Perhaps because it represents this endless routine they live in and witness every day. But few achieve that goal.
Only one child became Batman, as only one became Superman or Wonder Woman. And only one child became the White Wolf. [Y/N] [Y/LN]
Droplets of fresh water falling on her face woke her up slowly. She blinked. Her sight was blurred. Her head was so heavy, as her body. She growled. Something was restraining her, holding her by the arms. Her shoulders hurt. It took her few seconds to realise they were holding her entire weight, now hanging from the ceiling of a dark cave.
“ Where am I?”
“ Finally. Took you long enough, sweetheart” She knew that voice all too well. It never truly scared her until today. “Ben.” She whispered. “How did I get here?”
“You should have not wandered in Gotham City, alone and wounded. But I’m guessing you didn’t have anywhere else to go.” He had that satisfied smile on his face. She hated that smile “He dumped you, didn’t he?” She didn’t reply. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure to hear the pain in her voice. “Nevermind, he’ll still come here. He’ll look for you. He and his Outlaws. They’ll all come eventually.”
“ You don’t know them if you think they’ll come rescue me. They think I’m a traitor. They won’t risk their skins for me”
“ I believe they will. Especially when they receive our invitation.”
“ Our invitation?”
A man came out of the shadow. [Y/N] frowned to discern his silhouette in the dark. When she finally spotted a green and gold outfit and a very distinctive goatee, she gasped. “ Ra’s”
“ Greetings, [Y/N].” He had that vile treacherous smile on his face. “It has been a while since we saw each other. I heard so much about your adventure. It appalled me, truly. That one of my most precious formidable assassin would deny my hospitability and generosity, …” He cupped her face, his fingers clenching around it like sharp talons “…betray me and for what? A ridiculous infatuation with a bat?”
Infatuation? It was way more than that. But she didn’t dare say it out loud. She didn’t want to set him off. She was already in enough trouble. “But it didn’t surprise me.” She stared at him with a frown. “After all, you were both ‘fated’ to become besotted with each other. Two broken children, orphans, who saw their family taken away from them because of drugs, sidekicks trained to serve a special cause. And with that darkness inside of them. Of course, you couldn’t resist him as much as he couldn’t resist you.” She lowered her eyes. He was right. They were so much alike. That’s why she loved him, somehow. Because he showed her that she could be someone good too, that she could be like him. “And that’s why he’ll come for you and we will wait patiently for him, and the others, won’t we Circe?”
“Indeed.” Circe? This was bad, terribly bad. [Y/N] shivered as she saw the red-haired goddess approaching her. “Oh my. You are beautiful.” She caressed [Y/N]’s white hair with a smile as her red and yellow eyes were staring at her as if they were actually piercing her soul. “Even more beautiful than in my memories.”
“ I don’t think we’ve ever met.”
“ That’s true, [Y/N] Stanson. But I did meet your alter ego, a long time ago. The white wolf. Wepwawet.”
She had just called her Wepwawet. Who the hell was Wepwawet? [Y/N] couldn’t hide her ignorance and Circe could read it on her face. No magical powers needed. “You didn’t know?” Know what, witch? “Of course you didn’t. You’re just a pathetic human being. How come would you know anything about the gods?”
“ What are you saying, lady?”
“ I’m saying only a human cannot realise they share their body with a god.”
[Y/N]’s eyes widened. She was no god. She was just this regular girl possessed by some kind of demon for no explainable reason. Someone probably picked randomly to be cursed for her entire life, probably as a punishment for all of her sins.
“ Wepwawet is an Egyptian deity. A god able to turn itself into a wolf. A protector of Ra, the opener of the ways, the one that will lead his army. Actually, one of the gods your friend Artemis cherishes among many. Funny she doesn’t seem to actually like you.”
“ Well she can be a brat.” Ben chuckled. “But at least, right now, we know you’re a special brat.”
“ Indeed. Because thanks to you, my dear” Ra’s began to say. “Not only will you bring both trinities to us but through we will have full access to the power of Ra and release the greatest army the world has ever seen.”
“ You will open the way, accomplish your purpose” Circe continued “But for that. I need the Goddess. Not the human. Not the wolf. The Goddess”
She drew a knife from her belt. Its nacre-coloured blade magically shone like the moon in the darkness of the cave. The witch approached it dangerously from [Y/N]’s chest. The tip pierced her skin slowly. “It’s going to hurt. A lot”
“Faye? What’s wrong?” Jason asked as the scared old woman was staring at a cardboard box. It took Jason a mere instant to notice that the bottom was drenched in blood.
“ The mailman. He left this for you.” She handed him a letter with her shaking hands. He had never seen the old woman like that. She looked terrified and upset. It worried Jason whose eyes darkened in concern and anger.
“أغدر من ذئب
أغزل من امرئ القيس.
احذر عدوك مرة وصديقك ألف مرة فإن انقلب الصديق فهو أعلم بالمضرة"
He didn’t speak Arabic. But he knew who did. Jason slowly opened the box and then quickly looked away, disgusted by what was inside. A white wolf freshly skinned, covered in blood and rose petals. The stench was even more terrible than the slaughtered animal itself. But what was truly worrying Jason was… “[Y/N]” She was in big trouble. The message was clear and the Arabic letter meant one thing: Ra’s Al Ghul had her.
His first reflex was to call Artemis for help and advice. Together in the lab/kitchen of their unconventional hideout, they examined the bloody package.
“ It’s clearly an invitation from Ra’s Al Ghul.”
“ You mean a trap.” The amazon corrected with a frown as she was typing on the computer.“ The letter is a mix of Arabic proverbs. ‘More treacherous than a wolf. More flirty than Imru' al-Qais. Be careful of your enemy once and of your friend a thousand times, for a double crossing friend knows more about what harms you.’” The letter was of course referring to [Y/N] and Jason’s affair and how she had betrayed him. The last proverb, however, the double-crossing friend was still a mystery. But he didn’t want to waste time on stupid enigmas. She was in danger and she needed him. And even though she had broken his heart with her lies he couldn’t let her down.
“Red, can you try to track the mail thanks to the number on the box?”
“ On it. What’s it you’re looking for.” She asked as he was analysing some of the animal’s white hairs on the computer. “Anything on the skin that could give me clues on its origin.”
“ You want to go rescue her, don’t you?”
“ I’m not asking you to come with me, Red.”
“ No. Let’s do this.” She smiled at him. “We’re in this together.”
She was bleeding, a lot. She could feel and hear her blood dropping on the humid ground. Blop, blop, blop. As she was struggling to stay on her tiptoes, growls of pain would come out of her clenched jaw every time she would try to straighten up. And inside of her, the wolf was raging, trying to get out of her human envelope to break those stupid chains and tear apart that freaking witch and everyone else in this room, including the man staring at her. But that’s exactly what they wanted. “ Stop resisting.” Ben pleaded. “Let her out. You know, I don’t like seeing you like this.”
“ Somehow, I doubt it. Cause that would mean you care and we both you don’t have a heart.” She managed to smile ironically; glad weakness hadn’t made her lose her spunk.
“ Then why did I take a young orphan girl under my wing, ten years ago?”
“ I don’t know. You tell me.” Because she would love to know. Why did he take her with him? Break her out of Arkham? Bring her to ‘Eth Alth’Eban? Because he loved her? Because he pitied her? That poor orphan patricide girl.
“ I thought you loved me.” He was changing the subject. Of course he was. “ I did, once. Or at least I thought I did”
“ And then the Red Hood stole your heart.” She thought she heard sadness in his voice but if indeed it was sadness then it was because his ego was hurt, nothing more. She was sure of it. “Nobody stole my heart. I just stopped ‘loving’ you. And if you want to know why, just look what you’re doing to me right now. I guess you’ll have a pretty clear answer.”
“ You betrayed the league. You betrayed me.”
“ I did and I don’t regret it” That confession was a relief. She had wanted to say it for so long. “So you don’t care what is going to happen to you?” He asked truly surprised she didn’t value life at all.
“ Nothing really matters now” She had nothing left to lose. No friends, no family, nor the man she loved. “Really? So dying all alone in a dark cave doesn’t even sadden you?”
“ No. I actually like the way my life rhymes.” Alone at the beginning. Alone at the end. Still in the dark.
“ It’s time.” Circe said as she arrived behind Ben, like a ghost, with Ra’s at her side. He nodded and loosened her restrains. [Y/N] fell abruptly on the humid cold ground. Her entire body was numb from exhaustion and pain. Shivering on the ground, she could feel this weird hotness inside of her and this terrible heaviness as if her limbs were made of stone. She couldn’t stand up.
“ Come on. Get up.” Her old master said as he caught her by the arms to drag her down towards the witch. He let her fall at her feet. She growled from the pain.
“ Still not ready to let the goddess out?”
“ Fuck you” Circe looked briefly at the Demon’s head who nodded in approbation. “Very well. Since you’re immune to pain. Let’s try something else.” She peeked at the Pandora’s pit whose water was bowling.
The cave was endless. The team felt like this underground road was leading them nowhere except to a huge trap.
“ Since when are we suicidal?” Artemis asked as she was observing her surroundings, ready to get attacked at any moment.
“ I thought we were in this together.”
“ And I’m not taking back my words. I’m just asking when did we become that stupid.”
“ [Y/N] am in danger…”
“ … And the demon Etrigan has been released. But we’re still running into the lion’s den.”
“ So what? Do you think we should call the Justice League. I bet Diana would love to help.”
“ Certainly not. I don’t need her.” She was vexed, not understanding the sarcasm. It made Jason slightly chuckled. Usually he would have laughed but he was too worried to do so.
“ Am Reds hear that?” Bizarro stopped walking. Jason and Artemis pricked up their ears. They could hear a slight distant sound approaching them. “What is it? Bats?” Artemis asked.
“ No. Bigger.” Artemis didn’t wait and immediately called her axe as Jason pulled out his guns to load them with real bullets. The sound was coming closer and soon they began to hear small atrocious squeaks and menacing clanks.
“ Parademons!!” Artemis yelled
#Jason Todd#red hood#Red Hood And The Outlaws#red hood and the outlaws: loyalty#chapter 19#jason todd x original female character#fanfiction
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