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sky-berrie · 3 years

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How would the batboys react to a female SO with Paranoid Personality Disorder?

Hi there!

Thanks so much for the ask. I hope this is okay :)

-Sky

Bruce

As a person living with paranoid personality disorder, you might be terrified that people are out to harm you. Your place of residence, Gotham city, does nothing but exacerbate your paranoid thought patterns, since criminals run rampant through the streets. It’s hard to distinguish between paranoid thoughts and substantiated concerns. Is that sketchy person with the full face covering one of Black Mask’s False Face Society members sent to abduct you, or are they just a conscientious citizen taking extra precautions to avoid contracting or transmitting the COVID virus? Being in a state of constant fear prevents you from living your life to the fullest. Luckily, your S/O happens to be Batman in his free time.

Bruce eases your mind just with his presence. He’s probably the smartest, strongest, and most resourceful person you know and being with him makes you feel safe. Bruce is the kind of person who you’d blindly listen to during an emergency – if he told you to jump out of a burning plane, you’d do it without a second thought because he’s never let you down in the past and you’re confident that he never will in the future. If you’re feeling fearful in public, Bruce will grab your hand or put an arm around you securely and soothingly whisper in your ear that he’s right here and there’s nothing to worry about. Having paranoid thoughts means that it’s difficult to reason with you, so you probably aren’t convinced that there is no threat, but you do experience some relief from his soft touch and gentle words. He’ll ask if you want to leave and he’ll take you to your safe space. If you’re feeling fearful in private, Bruce will hold you close and rub your back to reduce your anxiety. If you’re by yourself and start to have those racing, panicked paranoid thoughts, you can always call Bruce. He’ll drop whatever he is doing and come take care of you.

Bruce will teach you self defense to help you feel more comfortable around people. He won’t arm you with any dangerous weapons because he doesn’t want an innocent person to get hurt if you get spooked. Bruce will ask if you want to move into the manor since it has strong security and comes with several vigilantes. If you would rather stay at your own place, Bruce will install a variety of safety systems to make you feel protected. He’ll even spend most nights at your place so you can sleep peacefully. Overall, Bruce is like your lifeline. He’ll know just what to do to help you through your difficult thoughts.

Dick

Dick is a social butterfly who’s had his fair share of romantic partners in the past so it’s natural for you to feel jealous when he spends time with other people. Dick will adamantly declare that he’s with you and only you. At first you might try to ignore the prickly feeling of jealousy because you don’t want to come off as a possessive S/O, but the clues accumulate and suggest that he’s cheating on you. For example, he’ll rarely spend the night with you. You’ll catch him sneaking into bed at ungodly hours of the morning. When confronted, he’ll make up an excuse that he just went to get a drink of water or use the bathroom. You’ll spot bruises scattered over his chest knowing you definitely did not leave those there. He’ll play it off as a gym injury.

When you raise your suspicions, Dick is hesitant to explain. You take this as confirmation of infidelity and you’re ready to walk out. At that point, he has no choice but to come clean about his secret identity as Nightwing. That sounds farfetched and you likely think he’s a pathological liar. Finally, Dick proves it to you and explains that he didn’t want you to be dragged into his dangerous nightlife. While you accept that as the truth, you’ll always wonder if he’s hiding more secrets. Furthermore, you’re probably pissed that he was gaslighting you. Dick will do everything he can to make it up to you. He’ll apologize profusely and in extravagant ways, be more transparent, and shower you with excessive love and affection. It might take a long time, but eventually Dick will worm his way back into your good graces.

It doesn’t take long for the green-eyed monster to rear its’ ugly head again. Now that you’re in the know, you’re hyperaware of the attractive vigilantes that Dick works with and it’s emotionally draining to be jealous all the time. You don’t want to be the type of person who tries to control their partner’s life, but when the suffering becomes too much to bear, you might ask him to stop seeing certain people. Dick will calmly assure you that there isn’t anything going on with any of his vigilante friends. If that doesn’t appease you, he’ll suggest that you hang out with the team and get to know them. He hopes that you’ll see that there aren’t any romantic feelings between them. Whatever you do, please don’t force him to choose between you and his hero life. It will tear him apart.

Jason

Trust is very important to Jason. He doesn’t trust many people as it is and needs a S/O who he can trust wholeheartedly and who will trust him in return. He believes that this relationship will fail if you don’t have confidence in each other. He’ll take it personally if you distrust him. Jason will get defensive and frustrated if you accuse him of being unfaithful, especially if you don’t have a shred of evidence to support your claims. He’ll be offended and deeply hurt that you think so negatively of him but once he’s had some time to cool off, he’ll be able to process everything more objectively. He’ll accept that you can’t control the way you feel. You’d explained it to him once that you do trust him, but there’s a separate voice in your head that tells you otherwise. Jason won’t give up on you though. He’ll come up with a proposition - he’ll agree to install a tracking app on his phone so you can monitor his whereabouts if you’ll promise to work on learning to trust him, whether it be via professional psychotherapy or reading self-help books.

On the other hand, if Jason is one of the only people you trust, he’ll be elated to know that you two have built such a strong connection. It’ll be easy to confide in him because he’ll gladly listen to your worried thoughts with no judgement. At first, he’ll reassure you that nothing bad is going to happen to you – he’s Red Hood and nobody is going to pull anything on you if they value their life. Eventually he’ll realize that trying to reason with you isn’t helpful so he’ll stick to active listening when you’re experiencing paranoid thoughts.

However, if Jason is fresh out of the pit and emotionally unstable, you two will probably bond over your mutual distrust and cynicism about the world. Although you and Jason will get along exceptionally well, it’s possible that your irrational thoughts may feed each other’s paranoia and exacerbate the feelings of mistrust and suspicion. If you find yourself unable to let things go, feel free to vent away when you’re with Jason. He is the king of holding grudges, so he’ll probably support you and even join in on trash talking that person with you when you’re angry. Learning to forgive and forget is something you and Jason can work on together. In a way, it brings you two closer together since you understand each other on a level that others can’t begin to comprehend.

Tim

Tim very compassionate and patient; however, he’s afraid of triggering you so he’s often walking on eggshells around you. He just wants to be the perfect supportive S/O for you and doesn’t want to mess up the relationship. His worst offense (in your eyes) is using ambiguous language that lends to multiple interpretations. For example, he might innocently compliment your clothes/hair/makeup and you might assume that he only likes you for your appearance or that he’s implying that you’re vain for wanting to look nice. The moment you shoot him daggers, he’s realized his mistake and starts to furiously backpedal. He tries to explain himself, but he usually ends up digging himself a deeper hole. Eventually, he gets better at expressing his thoughts carefully so that they can’t be misconstrued.

Tim diligently tries to learn your other triggers and how to help. When you’re stuck in a cycle of paranoid thoughts, Tim will get you to focus on what’s real instead of trying to make you see sense. He’ll help you relax by walking you through breathing exercises, playing soothing music, or whatever strategies you find helpful.

Tim isn’t proud of this, but he’s resorted to deceiving you when necessary. For instance, if you’re experiencing paranoid thought patterns and want to be alone, Tim will hesitantly leave, but he’ll probably secretly monitor you only because he’s worried about your safety. If you’re afraid that others are reading your mind, he might pretend that he invented an anti-mindreading helmet to ease your suspicions. He knows you would feel betrayed if you ever found out about his dishonesty, but he reasons that your safety and comfort are more important in the moment.

Damian

Arguments with Damian are brutal. No matter how insignificant the disagreement is, Damian refuses to back down when he believes he’s right. Paired with your own stubbornness and contentiousness, these quarrels generally result in an impasse. Eventually your anger subsides and the depression sinks in. You might assume that Damian doesn’t love you anymore and that fight was the end of your relationship. Maybe you start packing your belongings to move out right away. Damian comes up behind you and asks what you’re doing. When you tell him that you’re leaving because he doesn’t want you anymore, he’s instantly remorseful. He takes your bags out of your hands and proceeds to pull you in close as he tells you how much he loves you. He assures you that two people can disagree and still love each other.

Damian doesn’t want to argue with you and he certainly doesn’t want to see you upset so he’ll always excuse himself before the argument becomes too heated. He hopes that some time apart will allow you both to calm down and come to a compromise, but it’s never that simple. Most of the time, you’ll need a third-party mediator, like a therapist, to resolve your dispute. The act of seeking out a therapist will be a huge accomplishment for your relationship. Damian likes his privacy and doesn’t want someone else in his business and you might be afraid to share intimate information with a stranger in fear that it will be used against you. Nevertheless, you both want to make this relationship work, so you’ll continue to seek help.

Damian has a habit of being blunt. He doesn’t mean to criticize or insult you – in his mind, he is only stating the facts or his opinion for the purpose of helping you improve. Despite his goodhearted intentions, it’s easy for you to take his comments the wrong way and perceive it as a personal attack. If he sees that his remarks have upset you, he’ll acknowledge all the positive aspects of your performance. Still, you might cling to the disparaging comments and ignore the praise. Going forward, Damian will try to be more encouraging and constructive and will only express feedback if you invite him to do so.

#batfam headcanons #batfam x y/n #batfam x reader #batboys headcanons #batboys x reader #batboys x y/n #bruce wayne headcanon #dick grayson headcanon #jason todd headcanon #tim drake headcanon #batfamily headcanons #batfamily x y/n #batfamily x reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #time drake #Damian Wayne #robinchicklets

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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Useful Part 2

fluff with a little hurt and comfort. If you want answers as to the lack of angst, look through my recent posts for an explanation.

—* — * — * —* —*

“Wait, you have a WHAT?” were the first words that the rest of the Gotham-based vigilantes heard when they finally were able to track down where Damian had gone. Dick looked over at Bruce, who was noticeably tense. No surprise there, the man had just found out that he had a second biological child. One who was apparently a superhero already, without his intervention, and also apparently had a tragic background in the League of fucking Assassin Assholes. Not to mention that Damian’s track record with meeting siblings wasn’t great, even if this one wasn’t actually new to him. Nobody had any real fear of Damian relapsing on his no-kill rule, they knew he had matured far too much to be at risk of killing for something as immature as sibling rivalry anymore.

But there was still fear. Because this new Wayne was an Unknown Factor, and as a rule the Bats hated Unknown Factors. And they had no idea what the relationship between the two had been before they had been separated, or what it would become now.

“That wasn’t Damian’s voice,” Dick helpfully pointed out the obvious. Bruce only frowned, doing his best (and failing) to hide his anxiety about what they would find. Silently, the group inched forward to the edge of the abandoned building they were on top of so that they could look over at what was happening. What they saw was a girl, presumably the same one who had been in a ladybug onesie and had fearlessly begun to ask them to leave Paris— until she had laid proper eyes on Robin and fled, that was. That girl was sitting down next to an unmasked Damian, who had his arm around her shoulders and let her lean into his side. He even smirked cheerfully at her question before continuing to speak to her.

“A dragon-bat. I knew you’d love hearing about him, I’ll introduce you when you come visit the Batcave. His name is Goliath,” Damian admitted smugly. Despite the familiar attitude and pride behind his words though, his spying family couldn’t help but notice that he kept periodically rubbing the girl’s (they really needed to find out her name) shoulder in reassurance. None of them missed the tear tracks on both of their faces, or how red the girl’s eyes were. Clearly they had missed something big.

But nobody wanted to try to figure that out yet. This scene was too precious, too breathtaking for them to interrupt just yet. They had never seen Damian this vulnerable around someone outside of their little circle before, someone from the Time Before Bruce, no less. Most of the time, only Nightwing was able to see this side to Damian. And usually the roles were reversed, with Damian being the one consoled. They had never seen him in the position of the comforter before. The pillar of support.

It really cemented just how far he had come.

So they watched silently as the girl flinched, pulling away a bit and hunching in on herself. The laugh she let out was small and overflowing with self-degradation.

“You make it sound as if the rest of your family actually wants me to visit,” she replied sourly. Damian gently cuffed her over the head, frowning.

“Two things,” he held up two fingers from his free hand. “One: They will. They accepted me, and I was— well, you remember how I used to be. Once they actually meet you, and process the fact that there’s another Wayne now, they will bombard you with more welcoming than you will know what to do with. Two: It’s Our family, Marinette. Not mine, ours.”

Well, at least they had a name now. But it seems like they had bigger issues now, like Marinette’s clearly damaged sense of self. Jason and Tim traded knowing glances; it wasn’t hard for them to guess where, or how, she might have been damaged enough to think so lowly of herself.

They watched as Marinette shook her head.

“I don’t know. It’s one thing to try to… to get to know you again. We used to be close before… everything,” she haltingly argued, voice small and frail and uncertain. But she never once looked away from Damian’s eyes, trying to convey as best as she could what she was feeling. “But they’re different. They don’t have any reason to trust or like me, Dami. And I’m bad at, well everything, but especially,” she waved her hands frantically as if indicating the whole situation they were in. “I mean, listen to me! I can barely articulate right now, and I’m talking to someone I’ve known my whole life! I’m a mess. Nobody wants a mess.”

It was Damian’s turn to snort, and he pulled her right back into his side. “Please. If anything, that’s exactly the type of child Father goes looking for. We’re all a mess. Especially Father, trust me.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” she accused suspiciously, but sank into his sideways embrace anyway. Damian chuckled.

“No, I’m being honest. He’s terrible at emotions, not that I really have much room to talk. We all are pretty bad with them. But he’s the most obvious when it comes to that issue,” Damian smirked over at his sister conspiratorially. “For example. He still tries to tell people that he works alone, and pushes people away because he has this intense desire to protect, but doesn’t know how to say “I don’t want you to get hurt, stop worrying me,” so instead he says “Go away, I don’t need you,” only for us to see through that nonsense and remind him that the amount of people in his team is in the double digits already. He doesn’t want to admit he cares about us and is vulnerable—”

“Sounds familiar,” Marinette teased with a watery grin, startling a short laugh from her twin. He nudged her a little roughly (but not to roughly) and playfully glared at her. Marinette just giggled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied with a grin before waving his free hand in dismissal. “Anyway. Another example. He has no idea how to tell a stranger, “hey, I’m your father and I will not reject you. In fact, I’m completely willing to adopt you right this moment and whisk you away to Gotham and relative safety and hire an entire team of therapists to help you and buy you half the world if you asked for it,” so instead he and the rest of our emotionally constipated family just lurks on the edge of a building in broad daylight eavesdropping on us and expects us not to notice.”

“Wait what,” Marinette’s gaze instantly whipped up towards the sky, taking only half a second to locate the aforementioned eavesdroppers. Everyone except Bruce at least had the courtesy to duck down and pretend not to be there when they noticed she had seen them, leaving Batman standing seemingly alone on the concrete roof. Marinette blinked once. Twice. Then turned to Damian. “I’m gonna blame the fact that I didn’t notice them on emotional turmoil, because there is no way I’ve gotten THAT rusty.”

Damian smiled, but didn’t laugh. He knew that was a deflection to try and distract from Marinette’s quickly resurging self-consciousness. Her hands were already trembling again, and the fear from only minutes ago had resurfaced. The insecurity. He could practically see the words “I’m not good enough,” written in her irises.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, standing up and pulling her with him. “If anyone has to worry here, it’s me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Marinette whisper-hissed right back, eyes wide in disbelief and confusion. “You’re— You! Mister Perfect!”

Damian rolled his eyes, and his self-deprecating smirk matched the laugh Marinette had given just a few minutes earlier. “For the League, maybe,” he shrugged. “Never the Wayne family. Which is why I know you’ll be fine. If they put up with everything I’ve done and still call me one of them, they’ll accept you with barely a second thought.”

Marinette’s next argument was cut off by the sound of a dozen soft footfalls stirring up dirt not far ahead of them. The BatClan had landed from the rooftop.

Marinette gulped.

But if there was one thing— one thing she still remembered from her days as Marie Al-Ghul, it was how to fake pride and confidence. She straightened her shoulders automatically, lifted her chin, and pulled away from Damian’s supporting arm around her shoulder. Damian let her.

A little bit of old resentment flared up in him as he saw Batman walk up close enough to comfortably talk with them. Resentment that he no longer held onto, but that had haunted him nearly every night of the first two years he spent with his dad. The realization that maybe his twin was the one that was meant to be a Wayne. Marie had the blue eyes, the compassion, the more specifically detective-oriented mind. The calm head. Sometimes. Marie was exactly who he imagined when he thought of a naturally born member of the BatClan. Stubborn, clever, morally just. She had risked immediate death just because she refused to fight him, for crying out loud. Because she didn’t want to hurt the boy who used to be her best friend. The only ally she had ever had, growing up.

Meanwhile, he still had issues reigning in his anger sometimes. He had too much blood on his hands, he was more of a battlefield tactician than a long-term strategist. Still stubborn, but also completely unaware of the pain he brought others with his words or actions a lot of the time. He used to be such a rage fueled little demon, and thinking about how his sister fit the classic Wayne outline more thoroughly than he did had made him destroy more than a few practice dummies in frustration.

But now, looking at Marinette trying so hard to appear strong and proud when he knew she was still so shattered inside, relief overpowered the old and dull resentment. This was what she needed, he could sense that easily. She, just like him all those years ago, needed Bruce and the others to start to heal her and reforge what the League had badly molded.

“... Marinette, I suppose?” Damian nearly facepalmed at his father’s awkward attempt at a conversation starter. Marinette herself was clearly too keyed up and overthinking things to even register any amusement at the lame attempt, merely nodding with an overly serious expression on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Monsieur Wayne. Or that’s my name nowadays, that is,” She stumbled a little in her response before clenching her fists and forcing herself to continue as calmly as she could muster up. “My birth name was Marie Al-Ghul.”

Bruce’s eyebrows visibly furrowed underneath his cowl. “Was?”

“I…” Marinette finally looked away, shame creeping back onto her face. “I was explicitly told that I was stripped of the Al-Ghul name and would be killed if I ever dared lay claim to it again. So I not-so-legally changed it. And I was later adopted.”

Several sharp gasps or the hiss of breath through teeth bit through the quiet breeze. Nobody was necessarily surprised, Marinette could see it when she looked through her eyelashes and examined the winces and sympathy on the faces of the vigilantes before her. Batman’s shoulders were stiff, as if someone had paralyzed only his shoulder blades.

“And the people who adopted you?” Batman pursued. Marinette couldn’t read his tone very well, but it sounded vaguely angry so she quickly raised her hands in a placating gesture and her eyes widened significantly.

“They’ve been amazing! They don’t know anything about my past, or who raised me, but they are endlessly patient with me. I mean, honestly! Sabine caught me when I was trying to steal one of her gold bracelets in Hong Kong— and I know I’ve never been as good of a combatant as Dami, but I’ve always been better at sleight of hand and stealth so honestly that’s impressive— and she saw my dirty eight-year-old face and for some reason decided, ‘yeah I want this one as my daughter’ and roped Tom right into it and next thing I know they somehow tailed me to my hideout? I still don’t know how the hell they managed that, but Tom had a huge plate of steaming buns and I was so hungry and suddenly it’s two years later and I’m adopted and we’re on a plane to Paris—” Marinette threw up her hands. “I still don’t fully grasp what happened sometimes.”

She belatedly seemed to realize that she had just gone on an entire breathless rant at the speed of sound, and slapped her hands over her mouth before lunging into a deep bow. “I apologize! I spoke horridly out of turn!”

To her surprise though, she was met with a soft laugh instead of a scolding. She jerked in surprise, whipping her head up only to see Batman holding a hand over his chin to hide his large grin. It only took another second for the boys behind him to laugh a lot LESS softly. Nightwing strolled over casually and swung an arm around both her and Damian’s shoulders, playfully nudging her brother with his knee.

“I think she fits right in, don’t you little D?”

“Of course,” Damian scoffed, though his eyes were playful. “She is a Wayne by blood. She ‘fits in’ more than you strays.”

“Dami!” Marinette whipped back to him and puffed out her cheeks. “That was uncalled for!” she barked. Damian held his hands up in surrender.

“Relax,” he said as soothingly as he could manage. “They know I’m joking,” he dropped his hands and a knowing smirk took over his face. “And besides, now you’re relaxed so my plan worked,” Marinette could only blink at that. She… did feel more relaxed, actually. “Also. I told you you’d be accepted easily. They already consider you one of us.”

“Wha— there’s no way—” she frantically looked at each of the older men around her, but each of them just shot her a smile or grin and a short nod. Her shoulders and jaw both fell, and it broke a little of everyone’s heart.

Marinette looked so utterly shocked, bewildered to be accepted as if it was still something profoundly foreign to her. And there was that disbelief in her eyes, that distrust that screamed that she expected some sort of lie here. That told that she thought this would all crumble away at any second. If anyone had any reservations about bringing her into their inner circles, it vanished right that moment. She needed support, or she’d crumble away and they all knew it.

“How about we start by talking about the situation with Hawkmoth?” Red Robin spoke up, walking forward to stand beside Batman. “I assume that’s a little more in your element?”

Damian silently vowed to thank Tim later for that. In a silent, completely anonymous way of course. Couldn’t have Tim thinking they were friends or something now, could he? Marinette instantly straightened up and nodded, her confidence returning with a little more sincerity this time.

“Yeah. Yeah, let me transform again. It’ll be easier to explain.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was three weeks later, on Marinette’s third now-weekly visit to the Batcave, when the question finally came up. Jason had asked to spar with Marinette for the first time, having seen her in action as Ladybug and wanting to test the girl when she didn’t have superpowers to rely on. Damian hadn’t been down in the cave to warn him, and the result was Jason’s gut sinking as Marinette scrambled as far away from him as she could, eyes wide and chest heaving in the beginnings of a panic attack.

“Shit,” Jason muttered before he quickly knelt down and did his best to talk her down, to calm her until her breathing slowed and her pupils were back to normal. It wasn’t long afterwards that Marinette started hugging herself, refusing to look at him. But he wasn’t going to just back down, he wanted to solve this issue. If even the mere suggestion of a spar was enough to set her off, he needed to figure out why and fix it.

So he carefully lowered himself so he was sitting only a foot away from her, resting his arms across his knees casually.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t think it would be a sore subject. That’s on me.”

Marinette just shrugged, but didn’t answer him. She just buried her face in her arms and took a shaky breath.

Jason let the silence linger for a while before trying again. “Does this have to do with certain Asshole Assassins?”

That startled a slightly hysterical bark of laughter from her, and she had to wipe away a few tears when she raised her head and finally turned it in his direction slightly. Not enough for her to be looking at him, but just a subtle turn to show that she was listening and speaking to him. “Yeah.”

“You know, you never told us why you got disowned,” Jason tried to make his words as casual as possible, but wasn’t surprised when Marinette still stiffened and took a sharp breath. He didn’t push. The stage was set, and he’d wait until either she took the opportunity to open up or told him to leave well enough alone. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and her foot tapped on the ground a bit. Clear signs of her anxiety around the subject, and Jason’s hopes vanished a little. He would probably have to wait longer for her to be ready to share.

But, to his pleasant surprise, he was wrong. She took another few minutes to gather her thoughts, but she did eventually open up to him.

“I refused to fight Damian,” she admitted. “It was… We were seven. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight to the death, but it was a very important spar. We were using live weaponry, and we were told to fight until we couldn’t anymore. Whoever fell first would be relegated as a mere soldier, and have to fight for status like any other assassin in the League. The winner would officially be named as G— as Ra’s Heir. I didn’t want to fight, because I knew Damian would win but I also knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as Ra’s probably expected if I gave it my all like he wanted. I knew both Damian and I would be heavily injured if I did as he asked, and it wouldn’t be worth it. If I misjudged anything, any single hit, I could have accidentally injured Damian permanently and ruined his worth in Ra’s eyes, and that wasn’t an option. I didn’t care that throwing the fight was as good as giving up my life, because at least I could be sure that Damian kept his. I could make sure that he was treated well, or as well as anyone could hope for in the League anyway. I could, with only a few words, make sure he became indispensable. Ra’s and Talia never liked me as much as Damian anyway, I figured… I figured it was nobody’s loss,” She swallowed heavily, clenching her eyes shut. “I was always just the spare. The extra. Damian was their crown prince, the one with actual value. Even to me. I saw him, and I saw everything I wanted to be. I… I tossed down my weapons and let him stab me, because I figured I owed it to him for being such a failure in comparison to him. That I owed it to him to do everything I could to make things easier for him, since I was just an unnecessary obstacle—” strong arms wrapped around her, and she turned to sob into Jason’s chest as he just silently held her.

“Idiot,” Damian whispered, making Marinette jump. Her twin sat only a few feet away, though only Jason would have known when exactly he had gotten there with them. He shook his head at her. “I never would have gotten as far as I did without you,” he whispered, looking up at the cave ceiling. “You were the only real rival I had. When you left, everything was either too easy or nearly impossible, nothing was the same as trying my best against someone who was just as good as me. And when I got here and met the others, I didn’t think any of them were worthy of taking your position, you know,” he scoffed a bit as he got lost in his memories. “That’s why I hated Tim for so long, I think. He reminded me of you so much that I wanted nothing more than to punch him for daring to replace you—”

“Heh, the Replacement twice over, huh?” Jason joked. Damian chuckled with a small eye roll.

“Plus, he just has a really punchable face,” Damian added, trying to distract from the emotion behind everything he had just admitted. “Part of me thought you were dead. The other part refused to believe that. And seeing Tim and how some of his mannerisms were the same as yours,” Damian shrugged a little. “It stung. Especially that second year, when I started to regret that you never had the chance to come here and join them with me. Meet them with me.”

Marinette sniffled. “... Who are you and what have you done with Dami? He’s never this sappy.”

Damian flicked a pebble at her head with a good natured glare, successfully diffusing the serious air a little. Marinette wouldn’t ever be normal, and it would take a while before she was no longer fragile, but she could get there. Especially now that her bridges with her brother had been mended, and and a whole new family had cropped up to help support her.

She was glad Damian had convinced her to try, again.

#maribat #platonic daminette #sibling daminette #bio!dad au #bio!dad bruce wayne #ml x dc #mlb x dc #Useful

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squishneedsahero · 3 years

Text

A Swing and A Miss

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 9 of 13

Word Count: 2001

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

You and Bruce had been sitting on the couch together when his phone went off, it was a phone call. Who it was from you didn't know, all you knew was that he got up and went to the other room to take it. He doesn't usually do that, but on the rare occasion he does leave the room to take a call you don't mind as it's usually for a good reason.

Bruce walks back into the room, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking done. "I need to go take care of something. I'll be back later."

"What is it?" You try to ask, and aren't surprised when Bruce doesn't answer. "Okay, I'll see you when you get back," you say going up and kissing him gently on the lips. He kisses you back then heads down to the cave.

You don't sit back down, instead going to find something to do, to occupy your mind while Bruce is gone. Something had him upset but until he was ready to talk about it you weren't going to get it out of him, so that meant you got to either worry or keep busy.

Keeping busy was obviously the better option, so, you went and found the kids to sit in the same room as them. There's your two sons, Dick and Tim, your one adopted daughter Cass, plus Stephanie and Barbara who were like daughters to you.

"Hey mom," Dick says, looking up from where he was on his phone next to Babs, "where's dad?"

You shrug slightly, "not sure, he said he needed to take care of something and took off towards the cave."

"Oh, you want me to go check on him?"

"Not yet," you smile at your oldest who was always trying to take care of you, "he just left. I'm pretty sure he just needs to figure it out on his own first then he'll let me know what's going on."

"Alright," Dick concludes the conversation, but you can feel the eyes of the other kids on you.

Cass catches your attention and signs, "you can come sit with us," from her spot on the couch. She then pats the empty seat next to her.

You thank her in ASL with a hand to your chin as you go take a seat next to her. Cassandra was quiet, having an easier time communicating through asl than out loud. It always made you smile on the rare occasion you got her hear her soft little voice, and to know she was comfortable enough to talk to you, but you had learned sign language specifically for her, wanting to make sure she was comfortable all the time.

You gently put an arm around her and kiss the side of her head, then you go to remove your arm, knowing she doesn't always like to be touched. But she stops you from letting go of the hug and leans against you, maybe she just knew that you needed it at the moment to help get your mind off Bruce but either way, she didn't let go so you didn't either.

Stephanie scoots closer to you, taking the other seat next to you and offers you a controller. "We're playing Mario Kart, you want to play a few rounds Mrs.Wayne?"

You laugh gently, "I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice, all of you would easily kick my ass."

"Come on, pleeeaaaasssee mom," Tim joins in in begging you with his ex, turned best friend.

You laugh and take the controller, "fine I guess I'll try a few rounds."

"Yes!" Dick joins in, cheering you on as Babs gets things set up.

Tim had hotwired the two Wii's so all of you could play together without having to figure out how to do it online. So, the six of you were easily able to start a game and begin racing the many different tracks just having fun together as the kids knowingly distracted you from your worries.

It's a more than a few hours later when Bruce returns home. The kids had all gone down to the cave to get ready for patrol, and you had gone with them. They were about to head out when the roar of an engine cause everyone's attention and Bruce parked the bat mobile and got out, looking stressed and tired.

Dick goes over to him and tells him they're going to head out, and can cover things tonight.

Brice nods and doesn't argue, simply turning to look at you as the kids leave. He doesn't approach you until they've all left and you don't give him a choice but to hug you as you hug him.

"Do you want to change?" You ask, knowing he's obviously upset about something, but willing to be patient while he figures out what it is he needs to tell you.

"Sure, I'll change and we can go sit in our room," he says and kisses the top of your head before turning to get out of the batsuit.

It doesn't take him long to change, and the two of you head upstairs, hand in hand and take a seat on the couch in your bedroom. He just holds you for a while, obviously thinking through what he needs to tell you, and this only causes you more worry.

"Bruce, my love, you know you can tell me anything," you try and reassure him with a kiss on the cheek.

This reassurance works, as he finally speaks up, gently saying, "I have a son, he's 9."

This surprises you, and you don't exactly have a good response, you lean back away from him to look at his face as you quietly ask, "you have a biological son?"

"Yes, I didn't know until today, but he's 9... we've been together 11 years, my love-" this is when he begins to break his normally stoic demeanor.

This is also when you catch on to what he is saying. You had been with him at the time this child was conceived. That hurt. You turned to look away from him, not moving away but taking a moment to think.

There's a few minutes of silence before you speak, "how did it happen?"

You give him a chance to explain and he jumps on it, beginning to tell you what he knows. Starting with the fact that Thalia Al'Ghul was the mother, how she had apparently drugged him in order to have a child with him. His son had been raised by the League of Assassins, taught that he was the one to inherit the mantle of Batman.

It was... a lot. And it hurt to hear, especially due to the fact that you and Bruce had been unable to have a child of your own for many reasons. But, you turn to your husband, the man you were still head over heels for and say as gently as you can, "I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now but it isn't anger."

He looks at you and brushes your hair out of your face, "are you sure you're alright?" He's clearly still worried about his standing with you.

You gently lean to kiss him on the lips, "I'm not sure I'd call it alright, but we will be fine. My husband isn't a cheater, and that would be my biggest worry."

You can see more of the stress and worry leave his face as you speak and he pulls you into a tight hug. "I am so sorry my love. Thank you for giving me a chance to explain-"

You lean back from him once again, taking your hands to cup his cheeks. "Bruce, you didn't know. She drugged you and I trust you enough to know that's the truth. I'm going to need some time to get used to the idea, and figure out exactly how it is I am feeling. But promise me that we will be open and communicate about all of this as we get more information, deal?"

Bruce sighs in relief, "Deal," with that he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you deeply.

It's at this point he informs you that Thalia had sent Damian, their son, to live with Bruce for a time. Damian would be coming the next morning and Bruce hadn't been able to have any say in it, barely able to convince them to wait long enough for him to talk to you first. It was yet another thing you could only describe as a lot but this was life, you had to roll with the punches or you'd never be able to move forward.

Two days later you still had yet to meet Damian. You were ninety-five percent sure it was because the boy was avoiding you. You sat eating breakfast and contemplating this when you hear someone behind you say, "Tt, you must be my father's harlot."

You raise your eyebrow and turn around to face the boy, "Harlot?"

"That is what my mother calls you," Damian says looking at you disgustedly.

You are so exhausted by this entire situation that the sass just slips out of you and you laugh. "I mean, that's one way to go about saying she's jealous of me because I have a ring and she doesn't."

Damian is clearly surprised by the fact that you just laughed off him calling you a harlot. He, "tt,"s again and just walks right back out of the kitchen, unwilling to admit you had surprised him.

You watch him leave, and he passes Bruce as he does. Once Damian is gone you shake your head and go back to your breakfast.

"I see you've met Damian," Bruce comments.

You offer him a slight smirk and a shake of your head, "yep, finally showed himself just to call me a harlot."

"A har-" Bruce starts, clearly outraged by the fact that anyone would dare call his beloved wife a harlot.

"Yeah," you laugh again, "he left just as fast because I laughed at the thought."

Bruce sighs, relaxing with how you had taken it, he takes a seat next to you and wraps you in a hug. "I'm glad that you didn't let him get to you."

"Yeah, though as far as introductions go, I think he's going to take some getting used too."

"Yeah, he's quite the character after being raised by the LoA."

You smile and lean against Bruce as you finish your food, "yeah, but eventually he'll have to figure out I'm just as stubborn as him for having put up with your shit for this long," you tease and he laughs.

It's a few hours later the next time you see Damian and he tries to insult you in yet another way, "you're weak, and would never be able to take anyone down. You aren't worthy of father."

This one is creative, you'll admit that but you shake your head. "I never claimed to be a fighter, if you'd stuck around earlier I could have told you that. Though, the first time I met your 'father," you say mocking his tone, "I kicked a green haired clown in the head so that has to count for something."

Damian once again just leaves, you weren't supposed to take these things so well, you were supposed to run off crying, not agree with him.

This goes on for a while, him trying to insult you and you just not having it. It goes on until he stops, knowing he'd have to find some other way to get under your skin. Meanwhile you try to get to the bottom of his behavior. Why does he feel like he needs to put you down in comparison to his mother and how can you show him he can trust you enough to not have to do that to keep a place in this family? It might take a while but you'd sure as hell figure it out.

#batfam #batfam x you #batfam x y/n #batfam x batmom #batfam x reader #batman x you #Batman #batmom #batmom reader #batman x batmom #batman x batmom!reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n

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consumeconstantly · 4 years

Text

A Discowing at the Wayne Gala

Summary: Getting Jason to go to the Wayne Gala each year was more difficult than putting the Joker away in Arkham; he insisted the part was full of pretentious, rich social climbers who were horribly boring. As it turned out, all he really needed to persuade him was an upset, drunk girl rambling about how much she was going to deck her highschool enemies there to convince himself that he’d be in for a great show. (AKA the extremely chaotic and nonsensical salt/crack fic)

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“I, Mar--” she hiccupped, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng solemnly swear to rip Lila a new one with Discowing’s godawful costume.”

“You say it girl!” called some random person from across the bar.

“I will--” another hiccup “--use Batman’s Batmobile to run over Kim. And slam Red Hood’s ugly ass helmet onto Adrien’s stupid face.”

“Better yet,” Marinette pounded the table, “I will use their stupid utility belts to dismantle Gabriel’s empire. Somebody give me a yeah!”

“Yeah!”

All in all, the sight wasn’t that atypical for a bar in Gotham, if it weren’t for the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was barely five feet, wore pigtails, and knocked five men on their asses when they tried to approach her.

“Take that, Hawkass,” she hissed. “Think you can pull a fast one on me when I’m drunk, do you? Well I’ve got news for you!”

Her words slurred together, and she leaned on the bar for support. “When I get my way, you’re going to be tied up into a pretzel and dumped into a volcano, then the tundra and then we’ll see how you like your stupid little jewlery touched.”

“Dupain-Cheng,” her blonde companion hissed. “Get yourself together. We don’t need another one of your breakdowns now. You know we’re going to be busy tomorrow night, and I don’t want to deal with you completely hung over all throughout the gala.”

“Aww,” Marinette squished her cheek onto Chloe’s “You know you love me.”

“Yes, yes, but I’m not going to tolerate this bullshit. If you want to make good on your plans, you need to be in tip top shape.”

“Ughhhh, why are they even invited to the stupid gala? It’s not even like they’re rich! Oh wait, I guess they are…” Marinette pressed her face to the bar, which was undoubtedly dirty. She reveled in it’s coolness, brushing her bangs out of her face. “And why do you have to be right? I guess I have to stop drinking if I want to make any of my plans work.”

“Your plans will work, hungover or not. It’s just a question of how much you’ll be able to enjoy them. I don’t want you complaining for months after the fact that you don’t remember half of what happened.”

“I guess you’re right. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I'm feeling a little too warm to ice them out.” Staggering, Marinette got to her feet. “Call an Uber?”

“It’s already here.”

“What made you change your mind?” Tim frowned at Jason, doubtful that he wasn’t going to cop out at the last second. He was sure that he was only putting on his suit as some sort of deliberate ploy to get out of the Gala. Truthfully, it wasn’t required that all of them attend the Gala, but it was one of the few events that brought together most of the Wayne family.

Jason ran a hand through his hair and smirked. “Let’s just say I’m expecting quite the show.”

Jason kept a hawkish gaze on the entrance, waiting for the appearance of one short, pigtailed girl, and a taller blonde. They arrived almost forty five minutes into the Gala, which was good timing; not late enough to be considered rude, but most people have already arrived and have made their rounds.

Marinette looked different out of the dim lighting of the bar, and even though she definitely looks like she’s nursing a light hangover, she still managed to look stunning. With a matte-black floor length dress that attracted all light in the vicinity towards it, it’s hard not to look her way; Tim, for one, stared at the outfits that Marinette and her companion are wearing with stars in his eyes. Any moment now, he’s going to approach them. Or he would if he weren’t on Jason-sitting duty.

“I’ll play nice,” Jason promised.

“You? Nice?” Tim sounded incredulous, and it’s not like he can fault him. Whenever Jason did successfully get roped into coming to the Gala, it’s a sure thing that he gets at least one fist fight started, if not an everyone for themselves sort of situation.

“They’re the reason I decided to come. It’s not me you have to be worried about.”

Tim groaned. “Really? They’re trouble makers? But they’re wearing MDC!”

Jason chuckled, slipping a hand into his pants pocket. Tim was weirdly obsessed with the highly secretive French designer. Nobody ever saw them in person. “Wearing your fashion icon doesn’t mean they can’t kick ass.”

Tim rocked back on his heels, looking at the two girls calculatively. “That’s right. If anything, they’re more likely to kick ass, because that’s the kind of confidence that MDC inspires in their designs. Well, if you’re not going to fight them, I’m going to introduce myself.”

“And I can’t leave my little brother alone.” Jason said, watching the blonde girl point in the direction of, if he wasn’t mistaken, Gabriel Agreste’s son and his plus one.

Who knew that doing a preliminary reading of the guests would be so informative? He could only guess what kind of beef Marinette had with Agreste Jr.--Bruce had enough problems with Gabriel; even though Wayne Enterprises only dabbled in fashion, Gabriel was a ruthless man when it came to his competitors, and tried to edge them out of the market multiple times. Foolish on his part, not taking into consideration that both Bruce and Tim were very, very stubborn people who only get more difficult to face when dealing with a challenge.

Wayne Enterprise might primarily be considered with R&D and technology companies, but underestimating the amount of influence Tim could gather when someone pissed him off was just a bad idea.

“Hi, I’m Tim--”

“--and it’s lovely to meet you, but we’re on a mission right now,” finished the blonde girl, who Jason was now 98% sure is Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of Paris’ mayor and Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois. “Dupain-Cheng, it’s your time to shine.”

“God,” Marinette muttered underneath her breath, ducking her head. “I can’t believe you’re holding me to what I said while drunk last night.”

“It’s not just what you said drunk last night, it’s the most effective way of dealing with that liar. She’ll be so embarrassed she’ll hide away forever. Maybe get some plastic surgery and change her name. Daddy will make sure she can never step foot in Paris again.”

“Chloe,” Marinette groaned. “We all know how that panned out last time. Do you want a repeat performance?”

“By that time Hawkmoth will already be taken down. No need to worry about evil butterflies.”

“Evil butterflies?” Tim frowned.

“We can fill you in later, Marinette has a car to steal.”

“Chloe!”

“Oh stuff it, Dupain-Cheng, you’re no goody two shoes, even though you pretend to be one.”

Marinette whispers into Chloe’s ear, eyeing Jason and Tim. “Do you have to discuss that with other people around?”

“Well,” Chloe crossed her arms. “You boys aren’t going to rat us out, are you? They’re part of the infamous Wayne family. They’ll definitely be in.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You know they already reached out-- I can’t risk--” Marinette kept cutting herself off. “Fine, but if you-know-what falls through, I’m putting it all on you.”

“Like they’re going to pass you up just because of what’s going to go down at this gala. If anything, they’ll be glad to know that you’re as vicious as you are creative,” Chloe checked her nails and touched her hair, making sure it was in place.

“Sorry, what? I’m a little bit lost.”

“Keep up, Drake. I’m beginning to doubt your title as child-genius.You have the unique opportunity to watch history in the making.”

“Wait,” Tim’s jaw almost dropped at the display in front of him. “How did you even--”

“Trade secret. Marinette doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“But that’s the Batmobile.”

“Yeah, and?”

Jason laughed. He stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile, Marinette stole the whole thing. What a sight.

Here’s how the rest of the night went: Chloe plied Marinette with copious amounts of water, trying to get rid of her headache. Marinette hopped into the driver’s seat of the Batmobile (to which Chloe cackled, “And she doesn’t even have a driver’s license yet,” and Tim paled to the shade of freshly fired ceramic plate.) They ran over Kim, who, somehow managed to get into the event as a server of sorts, at which point Tim swore that the background checks would have to be upped again. Marinette landed the Batmobile in the middle of the gala, barely managing to avoid several innocents who were in her path. She reached into the convenient storage compartment that Jason was previously unaware of and pulled out the Discowing outfit and his helmet-- seriously, how did she get those?-- and slammed the car door.

Security, of course, was waiting for them. How couldn’t they, with that big of a disturbance? Half of the guests were up in a tizzy-- mostly the ones who were experiencing their first Wayne Gala-- and the other half were looking on, amused. Tim waved the guards off as Marinette made her way to Lila and Adrien, like a vengeful Valkyrie.

“You,” Marinette grimaced. “Chloe, say the words, I forgot them.”

“We decided that words were useless, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Marinette said, before promptly slamming Red Hood’s helmet onto Adrien’s head hard enough for him to fall to the ground, likely concussed. Lila, who started screeching and running away made for a surprisingly difficult target. Well, difficult in the fact that she was using other people as shields, but once she came across a group of Experienced Wayne Gala Goers, she got pushed out of her comfort zone.

In eight inch heels and with her hair down, Marinette stalked towards her prey.

“Lila Rossi,” Marinette intoned. “Your sins will be judged.”

“What are you going to do, Marinette? You have no power here. We’re in America now. No Ladybug to back you up. No public opinion in your favor.”

Marinette shuddered. “Ugh, your voice makes me want to vomit. In any case, I sentence you to life in Discowing’s costume.”

“You can’t make me wear anything!”

Famous last words, Lila.

“I’m still so confused. What just happened?”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe gave Tim a pat on the back. “You’ll get used to this kind of thing if you end up hanging around Marinette more often.”

“I think I’m in love,” said Jason.

“Get in the back of the line. The only thing Marinette has time for now are her plans to take down Hawkmoth.”

“I’m not opposed to joining you. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” Jason paused. “By the way, has she already stolen the utility belts to take down Gabriel or does she need more? I’ve got contacts.”

"Fair warning, everything in Paris is at least twenty times crazier than what you’ve seen here today.” Chloe swiped through a few notifications on her phone. “And please, do you think someone who hotwired the Batmobile needs your help getting her hands on a couple utility belts? If she really put her mind to it, she could get the Lasso of Truth from Wonder Woman.”

“Yeah, Jason, I’m definitely not going to join you on that trip.” Tim turned his attention towards Marinette, who was currently passed out on the hotel couch. “Anyways, You two are wearing MDC, right? I have a meeting with them tomorrow!”

Chloe looked at the poor boy with pity. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

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i’m really churning out these jasonette prompts like butter (god butter is so freaking good you ever eat butter straight? i do. heart attack city & the next paula dean) even tho i only thought about joining in right when july was ending but here we are

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deaddee-anime-brownfanlady · 3 years

Text

BATJOKES Vigilantism & Fatherhood DRAMA AU: Bruce Wayne and Jack on Differencing Parental styles also Conflicting Moral issues, Baby troubles bits.

(So before I continue on with the rest of the small details of Joker & Harley Quinn first time meeting & them becoming like this crime spreeing friends duo / also how Joker “Jack" meets up with Bruce again & them reconnecting becoming more romantically involved...yet also having to deal with the Children of Arkham.) [Right here is just a side slice of Bruce & Jack dealing with being first time fathers to their son also along with other regular weird bullshit within Gotham City.] With having little Malik newly apart of both their lives now, lives that are already filled with enough adrenaline fueled high obtaining levels of stress also danger that’s comes with being heroes and doing the whole vigilante thing in keeping Gotham safe. Now double that with a baby within the mix as well, on top of that there still dealing with the after effects of the entire Children of Arkham mess also the possibility of Lady Arkham most likely still being alive also having to deal with other villain rouges & Bruce and Jack now have a son to worry about amongst everything else, so yeah there hands are pretty real full. While Jack might be fully rehabilitated...that isn’t to say that his mental problems / issues are “gone for good” or “ he no longer has them” even though he's been doing so much better also been very good as of late especially with officially moving in with Bruce, he still every now & then prone to getting bad panic attacks or gets way highly overwhelmed or have night terrors sometimes, he has scheduled therapy sessions with Dr. Leland which helps a lot as well as being medicated too which clams his hyper overactive brain. With Malik around both of there routines had greatly changed, especially in terms of nighttime-patroling which before tend to usually involved both of them but now with a infant son they have to take turns or one of them stays behind. Even with Alfred helping out with Malik when Bruce & Jack are out working on a case or dealing with some villain rouge , they can’t help but still worry about their little boy especially Jack, Bruce knows that if there is any danger at the manor he perfectly setup extra protective precautions within every single inch also rooms of Wayne manor, including the nursery most importantly. Also he knows Alfred will always be willing & ready to be on the lookout for Malik who is particularly his grandson. NOW ON BOTH BRUCE & JACK DIFFERENING PARENTING MOMENTS & BABY MALIK TIDBITS : While Malik isn’t yet at the age to talk as of now, but further on down the mouths or so he’ll eventually start calling Bruce "Dada" & Jack "Baba" although that soon will change into "Papa". | When it comes to bonding & playtime, Bruce enjoys lifting Malik up in the air and holding him tight to pretend fly also whoosh him around like a airplane , other ways Bruce likes to bond with his little man is to help him with his little baby exercises or most of all he loves having Malik sleeping & just laying on top of his chest, holding Malik so close & tight to him always calms him down or helps takes his mind off the constant pressure also worries of keeping Gotham city safe. Malik always manage to help grounds him and drives him even more to make Gotham a better place. Now another thing Jack loves to do for his sweet tiny boy is dress him up in all kinds of crazy outfits & cute clothes, such as super bright also colorful onesies with different kinds of fun patterns. Like polka dots or zigzags or ones with animals on them, he enjoys dressing Malik in funny, adorable themed clothing like having him as a bat with the little ears also including with little flappy wings, he’ll have him dress as a bear or an ducky also a shark too. | Bruce sometimes thinks that Jack tends to goes a bit overbroad with the outfits but he tries not to get on him too much about it since he knows how much its means to Jack, ones of Jack favorites things to do in terms of bonding or playing with his dear boy is blowing raspberries on Malik chubby cheeks also on his tummy and play pretending to eat his little feet & toes or making silly faces also other weird faces that would mostly either creep out or put-off anybody else...considering Jack sometimes inhuman unsettling wide full teeth smile & grin that’s freaks some people out ; but for little Malik it tends to get a giggle out of him or hearing his Papa laughing and non-stop off-kilter giggling always gets a excited or happy gurgle/coo out of him because he knows Papa is near or around. | Yet another thing Jack loves to do when it comes to entertaining his boy is to uses one of his many stuffed animals as like puppets and add funny voices to each of them with their own little personalities as a way to either make Malik laugh or a way to comfort him when super upset. | NOW ON SOME MORAL ISSUES / PROBLEMS BETWEEN B & J. | As mention before when Bruce & Jack are out and about as Batman & Joker handling criminals or villains or other hardcore crimes in Gotham, while they tend to usually work well together on a case or being a power house duo. They tend to have their every now and then non-stop back & forth arguments with each other on dealing with Batman/Bruce *No Killing code* , Jack ‘Joker’ deeply feels that some or a good half of most of the scumbags they deal with...especially ones who’ve done things like Rape or child abuse & such would be much better off dead instead of them lock in prison and yet every time when Jack expresses these thoughts or what he feels should be done, its always ends up in a fight on morality or on “what heroes can’t do” with Bruce. Bruce sometimes have to constantly reminds Jack on not going way too hard when they be crime-fighting criminals or even the big names villains since he knows how much violence gets Jack riled up or seriously turn him on or how he tends to enjoy it a bit too much sometimes, Bruce has to reminds Jack that if he does kill or goes off the edge again then all that hard work on bettering himself would be for naught or if he gets sent back to Arkham again then Malik wouldn’t have his loving Papa around anymore. While Jack still seriously don’t believe in the whole “Heroes don’t kill” junk, he wouldn’t for the life of him ever risk losing his little prince; But one thing for sure with Jack that if anybody and he means anybody whether they be mob bosses or low goons or high level super-villains or basically anyone ever tries to do anything to harm his baby boy...then they can kiss their asses goodbye for good because he’ll make sure there killed painfully and horribly in the most worst ways possible...he doesn’t care if it against Bruce code at all, like if someone trying to hurt his son in any kind of way there dead period end of story. He sure that Bruce can at least understands that.

#batjokes #batjokes au #batman x joker #the joker #batman #batman telltale au #dadsbatjokes Au #joker #batjokes headcanons #jack napier×batman #dadbatjokes au #jack napier #john doe telltale #joker x batman #batman telltale #bruce wayne #joker headcanons #bruce wayne headcanon

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wajjs · 3 years

Note

prompt part: the taliajaybru continuation of your bb dami fic? where everyone is still soft and nothing hurts (too much) and bruce catches up on how to be with the people he loves?

omegaverse, omega!jay (ft. male breastfeeding - a very short scene at the very beginning)

continuation of this fic

In my darkness I search for you

Breeze comes in through the window that had been closed.

Breeze comes in, makes the curtains flutter, and Jason doesn't look up from where Dami's head is nestled in his arms, face pressed to his chest. He doesn't look up as he strokes the thin hairs on the back of the head, as he smiles down at the expression of pure concentration Damian has while staying latched onto his nipple.

Jason doesn't look up and he doesn't need to, because he knows who is standing in front of him, tense and agitated and—he wonders what kind of thoughts are plaguing that head. What kind of picture does he paint, and how is it being interpreted?

Damian's tiny hands flex on Jason's chest and it makes him laugh.

He also thinks he can hear a single broken sob coming from the pillar of kevlar, weapons and living, breathing anguish.

When he goes back to the manor, he's carrying a small travel bag with diapers, a few onesies, towels, and Damian's favorite toys. It's clear he's not here for a prolonged stay. He also doesn't come back to the family house through the cave in the middle of the night, like a ghost from days past that descends upon everyone present like a curse. Instead, he walks up the steps to the front door and bounces his baby in his arms. And he waits.

Not for long, though. Because there it is Alfred, looking like he always does and if Jason notices new wrinkles, he doesn't say a thing. He smiles, a small, shy thing, and shifts Damian to just one arm, propping him up on his side.

"Hey there, Alfie," Jason says. If there's a pang of nostalgia clanging in between his ribs, he stays quiet about it.

Alfred's eyes are wide open. This is the most caught he's ever looked.

"Master Jason," he gasps, hand shaking around the doorknob. The lack of steadiness becomes even more obvious when the older man's eyes drift until they are focused on the baby.

Jason understands the surprise. But also, it's getting cold and Damian is still getting better from that trip to—

"I apologize," Alfred quickly recomposes himself, stands to the side as he opens the door as far as it goes, "please, master Jason, please come in."

He smiles and steps inside. Familiarity rushes through him. The house seems stuck in time, as always, and he… he's changed so much.

Bruce can't stop looking at him. The man is pale and silent and he looks at Jason and his baby like they are both going to vanish the minute he blinks. Jason doesn't reassure him that this isn't a half-crazed delusion, this isn't a vision, he's here, he's real. No, he makes no attempt at comforting him. Jason knows more than well it would fall upon stubborn ears.

Alfred is the one sitting by his side and smiling as he watches with an avid eye while Damian plays in his baby chair. Well, not his, but the one that's never left the manor, much like everything else that ever entered here. Still sturdy as ever, and Jason sits next to his child and he kisses the soft hairs.

Sometimes he can't believe this is his reality.

"How," Bruce finally asks.

Even with the fireplace lit up, the room drops to sub-zero temperatures.

"I think you're well acquainted with how babies are made, B."

That's not it, though. The three adults present know.

"How did you come back?"

At least they are talking, Jason thinks, and Bruce has yet to force him into completing one medical scan after the other. It's only a matter of time for that, though. Everyone is well aware.

At the end of the day, well into the night, he's sitting by the small table in the kitchen, Damian dozing off in his arms, waiting for the kettle to start whistling. It's late, now. Late enough for Batman to be expected to be seen prowling the city, and yet the man under the cape is here, by Jason's side. Closer, so much closer than before.

"He looks like Talia," Bruce says and the air he exhales as he speaks brushes Jason's cheek.

"I know," with a rogue smile, he turns towards the other, shifts his hold so his intentions are clear. "Do you want to hold him?"

In typical Bruce fashion, the answer he gets is: "Stay."

And there are so many things left to be said. So many silenced truths waiting round the corner for their best moment to strike. Speeches Jason has rehearsed, over and over, in front of a mirror—fueled by fear and pain and anger and… and grief. Things he's thought about in the middle of training around the world with Talia's guidance.

Things that moved to the very back of his priorities when he discovered that he was—

And so he resigns himself to be, for once, the bigger person.

"I'll stay for the night."

Talia's a beauty that escapes definition, elegantly sprawled on the couch, and Jason feels warmth when he sees her the moment he crosses the door. It's as much his instincts telling him that's my alpha as it is him loving her beyond all that. There's a soft noise forming deep within his chest that has Damian reacting as well, and she laughs with such a wonderful melody.

"We missed you," he says as Damian tries to reach out, both arms extended towards her.

"I'm happy to see you doing much better," Talia stands and picks the baby in her arms. He belongs there as much as he belongs in Jason's hold. "I apologize I couldn't help when you needed me."

"Nonsense," Jason huffs a little, his cheeks getting warm, "you help us all the time. We wouldn't—"

She shushes him with a soft kiss on his lips. It makes Jason's blush grow darker, stirs up half asleep needs and wants and…

He exhales shakily, slumping against the nearest wall and letting the bag fall to the floor. Talia's eyes shine with a new light, one he's seen quite a few times before. They both know what this means.

"I shouldn't," he swallows, runs his hand over his forehead to push his hair out of his face, "I shouldn't go through one so soon, right?"

"You've been with him," her words are not reprimanding. They never are, when she gets it so well, "you've been around him more and more, lately. There are even rumors going around in high society circles. Gossip."

"But," looking at her face, taking in her expression, he shakes again, bites his fist because he needs a distraction. It's not happening just yet, but it's coming. The one thing he did not miss at all. "That… that couldn't be it…"

Talia smiles. She steps closer to him so she can kiss him again. "You've always loved him, dearest."

Jason's knees get a little weaker. He tries not to cry.

"I love you," he says. Desperation adds weight to his voice.

"I know you do," cradling Damian in her arms, she brushes his cheek with her lips, feels his exhale close to her ear, "and I love you, too, dearest."

What Talia doesn't have to say out loud, because he gets it, is: worry not. I'll find a solution.

The ridiculous thought of he's too big for this room keeps repeating itself, like a blinking neon billboard, inside Jason's head. Over and over, till words lose meaning and—

His breath hitches high in his throat and Bruce, god, Bruce Bruce Bruce, he gives him a twitch of his lips that passes for reassurance, an almost smile that Jason used to live for. He's different now, he's grown, he's, he… Talia is right, and Jason looks for her, sees her sitting by the edge of the bed, right next to him. He feels exposed, vulnerable in ways he hates, but he's safe. He's the safest he can be, here, with them paying attention to him.

"Jason," Bruce's voice is soft yet commanding and their eyes meet again. "I can leave if you—"

"No," he says too quickly, reaching out, sitting up on the bed so he can hold onto the other's clothes, "no, don't."

"Beloved," Talia scolds Bruce from behind Jason's shoulders. She's the one pushing him back down onto the mattress, the one massaging away the lines of tension taking over. "Don't tease him like this. Surely you know he's been waiting for you all this time."

Forced into view, being made to be seen, Jason gulps, closes his eyes so he doesn't get to see whatever expression is forming on Bruce's face. He's. He's embarrassed but there is warmth simmering low and insistent in his gut, warmth that gets stronger the more he's made to wait. All the scents, the smell of alpha, they are all making him dizzy, making him want. And he's achingly empty. Why aren't they…?

"I'm sorry, Jason," Bruce whispers and Jason gasps, there's the dip in the mattress, the line of heat of a body broad and big like his own laying on top of him.

Then, then there are the touches. The softest drag of fingertips over his cheek, the line of his jaw, the dip of his collarbones.

"I didn't mean to make you wait so long."

When he blinks and looks at them, at Talia, at Bruce, he's both lost and found. He needs. Legs falling open in the most natural of invitations, he bares his neck, presents himself, shivers and swallows back breathless gasps that betray just how much he craves. Like this, in the cradle of their embrace, like this Jason doesn't have to think of his fears, his anger, the wounds that never heal.

With Bruce on top of him, shedding their clothes, with Talia's fingers in his hair, with all this thorough attention, Jason doesn't have to think about all that he's lost or given up.

Like this, for this moment, he can pretend.

In the peak of winter, bundled up in worn out sweaters, cheeks red and an easy smile on his face, Jason sits on a cushion on the floor, watching as Damian plays next to him. He's giggling, babbling, round and soft and so happy, it's like there are actual stars in his eyes. The two of them paint the most incredible and magical of pictures. An allegory of second chances and new beginnings, of love, of dedication. Of loyalty.

Talia stands by the door, she's always looking, always from a certain distance, like someone who's always protecting. And there is much to protect, here. Much to keep safe.

Bruce stops by her side and his eyes follow the line of her sight. The smile that he gives, it's the most natural smile he's shown in years.

"You saved him," Bruce speaks barely above a whisper.

"Beloved," Talia sighs, leans into his side like all three of them are indeed normal people, like this arrangement won't bring problems, like they get to have a chance at a normal life, "I didn't do anything. He actually saved all three of us."

#jaytalia #brujay #taliajaybru #talia al ghul #jason todd #bruce wayne #omega jason todd #blob writes #blob's prompt party #the very last one!#setsailslash

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organabanana · 3 years

Text

red || harley quinn/poison ivy

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Harley Quinn (Comics) Batman - All Media Types DCU

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Relationships: Pamela Isley & Harleen Quinzel

Characters: Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel

Additional Tags: Past Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel, Abusive Joker (DCU), blood (plenty), Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Femslash February 2021, Femslash February, Sex

Series: Part 1 of the Femslash February 2021 series

Summary: A breakup, a healing process, color therapy at Arkham, and a series of life-changing realizations by Harley Quinn, with help from Poison Ivy.

Notes: Written for prompt #1 of Femslash February 2021: Red. Written around Issue 1 of Harleen: Black + White + Red by Stjepan Sejic which is an absolute masterpiece. I feel like this can be read even if you haven't read the comic but honestly it's super short and you should go read it because it is a work of art.

[ao3 link]

She doesn’t kill him.

She could kill him. That’s important to note. She could kill him. But she chooses not to. And for once — for the first time since this whole nightmare started — she doesn’t do it for him. It’s not because she loves him so much she can’t bear to kill him. It’s not because she thinks maybe one day they’ll get things right.

No. She doesn’t kill him because she doesn’t want to kill him. She wants him gone but not dead. Well — she wouldn’t necessarily mind if he happened to die. Have Bats forget his self-imposed limit and finally kill him. No, she wouldn’t mind. She just doesn’t want to kill him herself.

They stick with you, you know? The people you kill. Even if they deserve it. She would know. And she doesn’t want to carry his death around for the rest of her life. She just wants him gone.

So she stands there, bleeding and panting and struggling to catch her breath as she looks down at his unconscious body. That’s her blood on the knife by his hand. On his knuckles and splattered on his face, and you know what?

“You know what, Jay?” She says out loud, because why not? It’s not the first time her blood’s ended up all over him. Not the first time or the second or the tenth or the fifteenth. She kicks the knife away from him for good measure, even if the bleeding crack on his temple makes it clear he’s not gonna be getting up any time soon.

Still, though. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s tricked her.

Wouldn’t be the first time she’s let him trick her.

Because, you know what?

“I’m smarter than you think.”

So she stands there, Harley Quinn, with her blood-stained mallet and her blood-soaked harlequin costume, looking for all the world like the psychopath her Arkham file says she is. And — just look at her. She wouldn’t need to be a psychopath to kill him. To kill the man who turned her from a promising young psychologist into his peppy murderous sidekick. The man who’s kept her in a sadistic cycle of toxicity (both literal and emotional) for all these years.

The man who — for fuck’s sakes — just tried to kill her with a butcher’s knife.

(Though that last one might have been self-defense, to be fair.)

What she’s getting at — and she’s getting at something, she swears, that’s why she hasn’t moved yet — is that even the most even-tempered, mentally stable, never-even-heard-of-Arkham woman would probably consider killing the man who put her through that. It’d feel empowering, even.

But here’s the thing: Harley Quinn is smarter than most people think.

You don’t just forget all your training and your doctorates and your research just because you’ve spent several years on a murderous spree with your sadistic lover, you know?

So she knows she wasn’t a helpless damsel in mental distress being manipulated by the handsome criminal mastermind.

Oh, no.

She chose to get involved with him. She chose to give into the want and the danger. She chose to keep going back for more because somehow, in some dark and twisted corner of her reptilian brain, the little moments when they were good were so amazing — so perfect — that they made everything else worth it. She chose to pull a trigger and kill a good man for him.

And now she chooses not to kill a bad man.

For herself.

“And that’s fucking empowering, Jay.”

***

She goes to Poison Ivy’s lair because… well, because where the hell else is she supposed to go? She can’t walk up to Gotham General’s ER and ask for some stitches and painkillers unless she wants to be back in Arkham within the hour. She doesn’t have her own place.

But she has a friend. So here she is.

“Hey,” she says as soon as she walks into the greenhouse-slash-evil eco-terrorism lab, “door was open.”

No, it wasn’t. It’s just Harley knows the combination to get in. Didn’t steal it, either. Ivy volunteered it. Harley’s always kind of suspected there was some pity involved in that decision, but she’s not gonna be picky about the deep unspoken motives behind the actions of the single person in this God forsaken city that’s been consistently good to her.

The second Harley steps further into the room and the gentle warmth of the grow lamps hits her, she sees Ivy’s face change from her usual unreadable near-smirk to sheer horror, and she knows she must look even worse than she thought she did. She knows for a fact it’s not easy to shock Pamela Isley.

She gives Ivy a couple seconds to try and come up with something to say, but words seem to fail her, so Harley decides to just cut to the chase.

Heh. Cut .

“I broke up with him.”

There’s a sort of unspoken rule between them that says his name is forbidden when it’s just them.

“Did he do all that?” Harley swears she can see the exact moment Ivy’s worry makes room for something that looks almost like rage. “Did he do that to you?”

Harley shrugs and manages a wink even if the cuts on the bridge of her nose sting when she does. “Should’ve seen the other guy.”

The joke falls flat, as expected — Harley’s pretty sure some of Ivy’s ferns have more developed senses of humor than Ivy herself — but Ivy finally manages to stand up and get moving, which is good. Harley kinda needs a hand. And medical attention.

“I won’t know how bad those really are until I’ve cleaned them up.” Ivy says, already opening the cabinet where she keeps all her medical supplies.

It’s funny because Harley’s been here a million times, and she’s been patched up by Ivy just as many times before — not always because of Jay, sometimes it’s one of the batlings getting frisky — but she never realized until now that Poison Ivy doesn’t need medical supplies.

Ivy can heal herself. She can synthesize her own meds. She keeps that cabinet stocked just for Harley. That’s friendship, right there. Right?

With a bottle of alcohol in one hand and a box of gauze in the other, Ivy makes her way back to Harley. But instead of getting to work right away, she stops and looks up and down Harley’s body. And for the first time, Harley looks down, too. At the blood-soaked stretchy fabric of her costume, at the gashes everywhere with cuts underneath.

She’s a mess and a half, isn’t she?

“Let’s just—“ Ivy shakes her head and leaves the alcohol and gauze on the nearest flat surface. That won’t be enough to fix this. “Let’s just get you in the shower.”

The next minutes feel like she’s watching them from outside her body. Like she’s watching infamous eco-terrorist Poison Ivy, of all people, carefully peel off her costume and guide her into the shower stall through a television screen. Like it’s not really happening to her.

But it is. Happening.

So when Pamela Isley doesn’t even hesitate before walking into the stall right along with Harley? Harley feels that. She feels it when Ivy grabs the detachable shower head and turns on the water and tests it on her own skin, first, just to make sure it won’t be too hot or too rough on Harley’s. She feels the cool water washing over her skin, and the gentle touch of Ivy’s fingertips as they scrub at the dried blood, and she watches the water turn red as it swirls around her feet and down the drain.

And it’s a bit too much, you know?

This whole thing.

Almost killing the man she loves (still, even if she’s decided that’s not a good enough reason to stay with him), and breaking up with him for good, and the amazing contradiction that is a woman with poisonous skin touching Harley more gently than anyone ever has before.

It’s really no wonder she starts crying.

“This one will need stitches,” Pamela says, like she can’t hear Harley’s sobs or feel the way her body shakes. Because Harley’s already naked and bleeding and in pain, and Ivy pretending she doesn’t know she’s crying feels like being given a bit of her dignity back. And she fucking needs that right now. “Most aren’t too deep, though.”

Ivy keeps talking, narrating what she’s doing even if Harley knows for a fact she normally works in silence. But Ivy knows Harley needs it. So she talks about how the cuts on her face will probably leave some scars, and how the deep one by her bellybutton will need stitches, too. And when the water starts running clear because there’s no more blood to clean but Harley is still crying, Ivy starts all over again.

“This one,” she says, voice even and soothing in a way nothing has felt in years, “this one will need a couple stitches,” her fingertip gently taps the skin right next to the cut on Harley’s hip, and there’s something oddly heartwarming in the knowledge that that little tap would’ve killed anyone else in the world, but not Harley, “most aren’t too deep, though, Harl.”

***

She stays at Ivy’s for a couple nights at first, just because she has nowhere else to go. Then she stays for a week because you can’t really find a cute little one-bedroom rental in Gotham overnight when you’re in-between jobs as a psychotic murderess.

Doesn’t look great in applications, you know?

One week turns into two and then three and then suddenly it’s been three months and she’s pretty sure she’s living with Pam now. Which comes in handy, because she’s pretty sure she’s working with Pam now, too.

It’s funny because their criminal interests don’t seem to align at first sight. Harley mostly likes the chaos and the action, and Ivy just wants people to stop polluting the air. But they work well together. Ivy picks the targets and Harley the method, and it’s fun. It’s fun and it’s freeing and — listen, she knows she’s still killing people, okay? But it’s for a good reason, and she’s her own boss. It could be worse. She could’ve joined a pyramid scheme.

And living with Pam is nice. They get each other. They really do. Pam is hermetic, which makes Harley want to poke and prod and figure her out, but she respects Pam enough not to do it. And it goes both ways, too — in three months, Ivy hasn’t mentioned that first night even once.

It takes Harley three months, two weeks, and four days to realize why Pam always seems a bit surprised when Harley goes for a run or a walk or really any one-woman activity outside the lair and then comes back like she said she would.

It happens one night when Harley feels that familiar urge to blow off some steam by doing any kind of physical activity and leaves their home for a run around the park. As usual, when she comes back Ivy looks a little surprised. Like she was expecting her to not come back, for some reason. But then Harley notices something else. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of detail. The smallest, subtlest kind of sigh.

Pam isn’t just surprised Harley’s back. She’s relieved .

And Harley knows why, of course. She knows Pam’s waiting for the other shoe to drop — for Harley to forget she’s better than the Harley from three months, two weeks, and four days ago and go back to him.

“Y’know, Pammy,” Harley says, walking over to sit on the very edge of Pam’s desk, “I really like it here.”

She could’ve said more. She could’ve acknowledged the mammoth in the lair and point-blank tell Pam she’s not going back to him. But for some reason, that feels like intruding, somehow. It feels like telling Pam she’s noticed the sigh and the relief. And she figures her best friend deserves the same kind of privacy she gave Harley that first night.

“I figured. You know, since you won’t leave.”

Pam’s kidding. As it turns out, she does have a sense of humor — it just happens to be a bit subtler than what Harley’s used to. Most things about Pam are subtler than what Harley’s used to.

“I couldn’t do that to ya. You’d miss me way too much if I left.”

“Feel free to test that theory. I could use some quiet around here.”

Harley grins. Something wide and genuine in a way her smiles haven’t been for years. Pam wants her around. She doesn’t want the quiet. She wants Harley in her space, making noise and turning straightforward plans into complicated (and often dangerous) adventures.

For a split second, a thought forms in her brain. Something — something she nearly manages to fully process, but not quite. Something about the reason why Pam wants her around. Why Harley doesn’t want to leave. Why she sometimes thinks about asking Ivy to touch her again, like that first night. For no reason.

But the thought is gone as quickly as it appeared.

“I’d break your heart, Pam-a-lamb.” Harley hops off the desk and winks at Ivy and doesn’t chase after the thought because she’s not feeling particularly adventurous tonight. “I’m a better friend than that.”

***

Six and a half weeks later, Harley realizes Ivy is in love with her.

She’d say she realizes she’s in love with Ivy, too, but she tries to be honest with herself and it’s more acknowledgment than realization at this point.

It doesn’t happen at the best of times. It could’ve happened at home, for one. That would’ve been convenient. Maybe even outside during a night walk or something. But no. Of course she has to have her big realization in the middle of breaking into a building that’s chock-full of guards ready to protect a CEO with appalling recycling habits.

(Or whatever he actually does. All she knows is it pisses Pam off, and that’s enough for Harley to be down with murder.)

It happens when they’re up on the roof, waiting for the guard on the top floor to finish his round so they can sneak in and do their thing. They’re hiding in the shadows, standing close together even though there’s plenty of room and it’s not cold at all. It just feels better to be close, that’s all.

“He’s gone,” Harley whispers as soon as he disappears into the elevator, “do your thing, Red.”

And so she does. Pam places her palm on the skylight they’ve been looking through, and a vine starts growing around her arm and toward the glass. It’s not the first time Harley’s seen Pam use the Green. Obviously. It’s not even the hundredth time. But for some reason, it looks particularly enthralling tonight.

“I love watching that,” she breathes out, even though she’s not sure why.

“Watching what?”

“That. You.” It’s only when she reaches over to place her fingertips against the growing vine that she realizes she’s never really touched Pam. She’s been touched by Pam, of course. She’s prone to needing medical attention. But she’s never touched Pam.

And it feels like kind of a waste. Since she’s immune to her poison and all.

So from the vine — which feels more alive than any plant she’s ever touched — Harley slides her fingertips down until she feels warm skin instead. And that’s when she sees it. Pam doesn’t move a single muscle — she doesn’t even look at her — but there’s suddenly a red rose blooming on the vine.

“Oh, Pammy .”

Harley can’t stop smiling. Who cares if they’re about to kill an eco-unfriendly asshole and there are a million things that could go wrong? Well, she cares. Ivy cares, she’s sure. But this feels much more important than murdering some rich guy right now.

“Red, I lo—“

And that’s when it happens. Listen, she’s never happy to see Bats. Never. But of all the moments when he could’ve showed up to surprise them before they can finish a job?

Right when she was about to confess her love to her best friend is about the worst possible time.

Maybe that’s why the whole thing doesn’t go as smoothly as it usually would. This happens at least twice a month, after all, so fighting Bats feels more like a dance than any sort of true fighting at this point. But she’s still rattled from the sheer enormity of what nearly happened, and when they’re about to escape Harley trips over her own feet and finds herself looking up at the big guy himself.

Ugh.

On the bright side, she knows Bats won’t risk letting her go to go after Ivy as well, so, you know. Small victories, right?

“Don’t make me wait too long, Red!” she calls out, just because she knows it’ll piss him off. Pam doesn’t need Harley to tell her to get her out of Arkham as soon as possible. And tonight Harley’s figured out why.

***

“Stop grinning like an idiot and come on !”

“Thirteen days,” Harley says, tone mockingly offended even as she pants and struggles to catch her breath. They’re home, finally. Even if they found the lair, which they never would anyway, the Green would keep them out. “What took you so long, Ives?”

Ivy rolls her eyes. Thirteen days is nearly two months less than the time it took them to get out the last time they were locked up together, so it’s no wonder she knows right away that Harley’s not serious at all.

“You know I like a solid plan. I’m not much for winging it.”

“Yes, you’re boring, Pammy. I know.”

Ivy scoffs and sits down on the couch in the middle of the room. Well -- she collapses onto it, really, if Harley’s being honest. A quick glance around their home, with every surface covered in plans and maps and more clutter than Ivy would ever allow, lets her know her best friend’s probably spent the last thirteen days and nights planning her rescue.

If Harley could sprout a vine or two right now and make a couple roses bloom, she would.

“Are you all right?” Ivy looks at her, tired eyes studying her from head to toe. “How was it?”

Harley shrugs. “It was Arkham.” They’re both familiar enough with the place. Sometimes the person in charge is more sadistic, sometimes they have a more gentle approach. Either way, it’s gonna suck. “They have a new therapist. She does color therapy.”

Pam lets out a quiet chuckle. “Color therapy, huh.”

“Mhmm.” Harley tilts her head. Pam looks like she’s balancing on the edge between being awake and asleep. Like if Harley just kept her mouth shut for a couple seconds she’d completely pass out. “Would show me colors and ask what they made me feel.”

Should she feel bad for continuing the conversation? Maybe. Pammy does look exhausted. It’s just Harley’s missed her for thirteen nights because of Bats, and before that for over four months because of her own obliviousness, and for years before because of reasons not worth thinking about.

So excuse her for feeling a bit greedy about their time together right now.

“Did it work?”

“Sure did, Pammy. I’m just here to pack up my shit and join the batgang.”

The sound that comes out of Ivy isn’t even a real chuckle. It’s a sort of hint that maybe under different circumstances she would’ve laughed, but right now the best she can do is a half-smile and a quasi-snicker.

Harley’s pretty sure she’s never loved her more.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, Red. We’re talkin’.”

“We’re always talking, Harls.”

“Not for the last thirteen days, we haven’t.”

“C’mere,” Ivy pats the empty space next to her on the couch, “what do you want to talk about?”

It’s not the first time she’s sat next to Ivy on a couch, so she knows her gesture was meant to encourage Harley to sit somewhere on the couch but keeping a respectful distance. Personal space, and all that.

Of course, that was before. That’d feel downright ridiculous now. So she sits right next to Ivy, feeling the warmth of her skin through the rough fabric of grey Arkham sweatpants.

“Wanna know what color they wanted to know about, Pammy?”

Harley decides the brighter green across the bridge of Ivy’s nose counts as a blush.

“Hmm…” even Pam’s hum sounds more alert than before, like she’s suddenly realized this isn’t just another rambling midnight conversation on the couch, “black?”

“For Bats? Nope.” Harley’s fingertips trace slow lines along Ivy’s fingers, across the back of her hand and towards her wrist. When she finally looks up, she realizes Ivy’s watching their hands, too. “Guess again.”

Ivy swallows and lets Harley wrap her fingers around a green wrist, moving Ivy’s hand to rest on Harley’s thigh.

“Blue?”

Harley giggles. “Blue,” she repeats, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to Ivy’s shoulder and smiling when it makes Ivy’s fingers flex and squeeze Harley’s thighs, “why would blue mean anything, Ive? Nothing’s blue.”

“Your eyes are blue.”

“Maybe they’ll ask you about blue, then,” Harley shifts closer, chin resting on the spot she just kissed, “what does blue mean to you, Ms. Isley?”

Ivy stays silent for a handful of seconds, thumb mindlessly brushing against the Arkham sweatpants Harley suddenly wishes she’d taken off before sitting down.

“Chaos.”

Harley rewards the teasing smirk on Ivy’s face with a kiss to her jaw. “But in a good way, right?”

“Hmm,” Ivy pretends to think, “sometimes.”

“ Most times.”

Ivy doesn’t argue. Harley has a feeling the true answer is always, anyway, so this is meeting halfway.

“I’m good for ya, Ive,” Harley says, shifting closer so she can tuck red hair behind Pam’s ear and kiss the spot right by her earlobe, “and you’re so good for me.”

“Harley--” It’s somewhere between a sigh and a breath but there’s an edge of something serious underneath. Something that makes her tense slightly with the fear of this becoming a whole conversation about things that make you sob in the shower or sigh with relief when someone gets home.

“Shh,” she whispers against Pam’s ear, “guess again.”

“ Harley .”

“Please, Pammy.”

A sigh.

“White.”

Harley shakes her head, letting her nose brush against Pam’s skin. She smells like freshly cut grass and jasmine and a field after the summer rain. When she takes in a deep breath, Ivy’s scent fills up her lungs and makes her wonder if she’ll ever be able to smell anything else.

She kinda hopes she won’t.

“You know I know you’re avoidin’ the obvious on purpose, yeah?”

Ivy turns her head and looks into Harley’s eyes for a second, and then two, and then she leans in and steals the air from Harley’s lungs.

Her lips taste like rosewater and something Harley can’t pinpoint. The kiss is slow and steady and demanding , increasingly deep in the kind of unrushed way that makes Harley feel almost surprised when she suddenly finds herself straddling her best friend’s lap.

Ivy kisses her like a woman who’s been waiting for so long the concept of time doesn’t mean anything anymore. Like the wait has been so long the reward should be, too.

“Ive--” Harley pants, struggling to catch her breath when there’s no room for air in her lungs anymore. Ivy’s lips are flushed red, kiss-swollen and parted to let out warm puffs of air. “Pammy, I--”

“Green,” Pam says, voice low and quiet and as soft as her hands slipping under that ugly Arkham shirt. Her fingertips trace the scar by Harley’s belly button -- that needed a couple stitches a lifetime ago -- and keep climbing up, up, up until they’re grazing the underside of her breasts. Harley can’t breathe, but what a way to go. “Did they ask about green?”

Harley shakes her head, teeth catching her bottom lip as Ivy’s hands cover her breasts.

“They didn’t ask about green .” Pam says, one eyebrow cocked in question as if the pressure of her hands isn’t making Harley’s back arch to push pebbled nipples against Ivy’s palms. “Should I be offended they didn’t make the connection?”

The sound Harley makes was supposed to be a giggle, but it turns into a moan halfway through and honestly she doesn’t really care.

“Pammy…”

There’s something building up inside her -- something big and warm in her chest, pushing against her lungs and her heart. She’d say it’s love, but it’s too solid for that. Love is chaotic. It knocks your life off-kilter and makes you feel like you’re walking on a tightrope towards someone but the slightest gush of wind could push you off. Love hurts but it’s worth the pain. Love isn’t like this, steady and warm and solid and relentlessly there . That’s not what love is like.

Right?

“What is it?” Ivy’s voice is as soft as the brush of her thumb against Harley’s nipple.

It’s like someone’s suddenly helped her off that tightrope and told her it was supposed to be a nice little path all along.

That it’s not supposed to be a lonely walk towards someone, either. Ivy’s already right here.

Harley opens her mouth to say it out loud -- to tell Ivy about this amazing discovery she’s just made -- but she changes her mind. Ivy knows, anyway.

“You still haven’t guessed the right color.”

Ivy smiles.

“You said it was the obvious. I already guessed the obvious.”

As amazing as everything feels right now, Harley’s never been the best at delayed gratification, so she finds herself pulling one of Pam’s hands down and out from under her shirt to bring it up to her lips instead.

“The other obvious, Ives,” Harley wraps her fingers around Ivy’s wrist, thumb pressing against the pulse point there as she watches Ivy’s pupils dilate with each fingertip Harley kisses, “the… metaphoric obvious.”

“The metapho--” Harley smirks when her lips wrap around Ivy’s middle finger and the breath catches in Ivy’s thoat “--rical obvious?”

“Mhmm,” her voice vibrates around Ivy’s finger before she lets it go with a wet ‘pop’, “c’mon, Pammy. Guess again.”

But Harley doesn’t think Ivy remembers her own name, let alone what they were talking about. Her fingers dig into the flesh of Harley’s breast and her eyes look so dark they may as well be black when Harley’s tongue licks a path up a second finger this time.

The only sounds she can hear are their labored breaths when she guides Pam’s hand down and under the waistband of her Arkham sweats, and then something halfway between a sigh and a moan when slick fingers slip between slicker lips.

Harley’s hands rest on Ivy’s shoulders, holding on for leverage as her hips begin a steady roll to the rhythm Ivy’s fingers set between her thighs.

“Keep going,” Ivy’s fingertips press up against her clit and Harley’s eyes flutter closed, hips rocking with more purpose than before, “don’t stop.”

Ivy leans forward, teeth gently nipping at the skin of Harley’s neck, and Harley swears if she didn’t know she was immune she’d think she’s under some kind of botanical spell. But no. No, this is just Ivy, as it turns out. Ivy finally thrusting two fingers inside her and making Harley move one of her hands to fist in soft, red hair.

She rides Ivy’s fingers with abandon, feeling Ivy’s tongue against her neck and Ivy’s hand on her breast and Ivy’s heartbeat somehow in her chest, and she’s amazed to realize she doesn’t feel like she could die for this. Like she could kill for this. Because she will never need to.

She feels like she could live for this, though.

Has she never been in love before?

“Red.” Ivy’s voice comes muffled against Harley’s neck just as she shifts her hand to press her thumb against a swollen clit.

“What.” Harley can’t even manage to make it a proper question. “Wh-- Fuck , Ives.”

“Is it red?” Ivy’s panting, struggling to push the sound out like she can’t quite decide whether she wants to speak or keep doing whatever black magic she’s doing to Harley’s neck.

“Harder,” Harley’s fist tightens in Ivy’s hair, “so close .”

She doesn’t know what does it. It could be the flick of Pam’s thumb against her clit, or the feeling of Pam’s nails against her breast, or the hickey Pam’s leaving on Harley’s neck. Whatever it is, it makes Harley come with Ivy’s name on her lips and her muscles clenching around Ivy’s fingers until she collapses against Ivy’s solid frame.

“We’re not done yet,” Harley mumbles, shuddering slightly when an aftershock of pleasure jolts up her spine, “don’t you dare fall asleep.”

She feels Pam’s chuckle against her neck even before she hears it.

“I’m not going anywhere, Harls.”

There’s a deep sigh, but this time it comes from Harley instead. “I know.” And she does. She knows .

“So. Was it red?”

“Mhmm,” Harley kisses Pam’s shoulder, “wanna know what red feels like, Pammy?”

She feels Ivy nod against her neck.

“Safe.”

#femslashfeb2021 #harley x ivy #harley quinn/poison ivy #harlivy #fanfiction #fic #comics #dcu #poison ivy

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ravenclaw-questions-gone-writing · 3 years

Text

Trope Snippets Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 A Stolen Hood

Marinette dragged the vigilante she’d knocked out into their temporary base, an uncertain Adrien trailing behind her.

“Do you- I don’t think- Are you sure we should be doing this?” he asked, his voice higher and more feminine due to the voice changer Marinette had built into the mask of his hoodie. It was based off of Lila’s voice, because if they were going to do this, they might as well incriminate the annoyance. (No matter how temporary because there’s no way it’d hold up when the Bats actually looked into it.)

Marinette shrugged. “No harm no foul, right?” Her own voice changer - not that she needed one - based off that piece of- that thing Lila called a brother.

“You just knocked him out, that’s definitely harm!”

Marinette pouted at her partner in crime. “It was only a bit of-” she cut it off there, aware of the active com, and wiggled her fingers in the gesture for magic. “He’s not hurt, just asleep.” She said as she took Red Hood’s guns and tucked one away and sent the other one to Adrien.

“It doesn’t last long, he should be waking up any minute now. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just pretending to be asleep since he no longer has a way to contact the other bats and we have his guns. Reconnaissance in an unfamiliar and possibly dangerous situation is a very basic thing.”

Marinette shrugged as she examined the com. Ritsu had already tampered with the tracking aspect of it. That should buy them at least another ten to fifteen minutes before the Batfam realizes, forcing Marinette and Adrien to relocate.

She smiled, she kinda wanted to mess with them. And, wow, she was spending too much time with her prankster parents. (The magic teachers she saw as parental figures, not Tom and Sabine, who were more like flatmate-siblings than parents.)

Adrien gives her a look and rolls his eyes, he knew she was up to no good - more than they already were anyway. “I’ll begin preparations.” He grumbled, not wanting to deal with it.

Well, they both dealt with the insanity of their reincarnated lives in different ways.

He wasn’t really one to talk. For every prank of hers, malicious or otherwise, he had a magical plant or creature - sometimes both - to create. And at this point, he’d probably recreated every non legendary pokemon the two of them could remember and then some other… more questionable creations.

Adrien pulled a metal bucket, some firewood, a set of stationery with a black chisel tip marker would be waiting alongside some paintball guns, two gallons of honey, and four pounds of birdseed from his pocket dimension and began counting their inventory to make sure they had everything and extras just in case.

“What are you planning to do with Red Hood?” demanded one of the bats from the com.

Marinette, giddy with anticipation, could barely contain her snickers. “We’re not going to hurt him if that’s what you’re worried about. We just need him to do a favor for us.” She says, managing to keep her voice even. It came out more cheerful than she intended but it got the message across.

Red Hood turned with a snarl. “I’m not doing shit for you cra-” Red Hood’s snarl died down into a gasp. “Holy shit, you’re just kids. What are you, 12?”

Marinette pouted, she was 16, thank you very much. It wasn’t her fault that she was so short. And even though she preferred being on the shorter side, calling her a 12 year old was going a bit too far.

The assumption about her age would be useful in throwing off the bats so she let it be.

“Speaking of favors, Mr. Red Hood, can I have your autograph?” Adrien asked from the other side of their warehouse.

“You knocked me out and kidnapped me for an autograph? ” Red Hood asked incredulously.

“Uh, no. He’s just a huge fan.”

“Oh shit, I didn’t think this through. What would he even sign it out to?” Adrien groaned.

“You could just use your assassin name? And I don’t mean the codename.”

Adrien shuddered and Marinette would have at least snickered if she hadn’t been through the same pain of having a Class 3-E codename.

“Assassins?” someone hissed on the other side of the com.

“Who are you affiliated with?” another demanded.

Marinette blinked and thought about it for a minute. “Uh… I stayed with the League of Shadows for a while some years back, does that count?”

There’s a stunned silence on the other side of the com before cursing fills the air.

Adrien groaned, “Why would you tell them that?”

“The most annoying thing for a detective is having a lead you can’t follow up on.” Marinette said, staring off into the distance as she recalled their attempts to track down Hawkmoth, who - in this universe - was not actually Gabriel Agreste. Surprisingly.

“Look, I’m not doing anything for Ra’s.” Red Hood snarls again.

Marinette frowned at him. “Who said anything about that old fart? No, we’re doing something much more personal.”

From the com, she could hear some suspicious coughing from the bats.

Marinette could tell Red Hood was startled and amused by what she’d called the demon’s head. The helmet was annoyingly in the way of reading his facial expressions but that’s what having a magical, very on-point, intuition was for.

“...Ok, you have my respect but I’m not doing any favors for someone who kidnapped me.”

Oh, right.

Sometimes, Marinette forgets that people don’t react like she does in kidnapping situations. But to be fair, she gets kidnapped like twice a week ever since she caught the Kudo curse from that trip to Japan, usually by some random amateur murderer, some burglar in all the cases they run into, or Talia Al Ghoul. It gets repetitive after a while.

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Talia.” Adrien chirps from his place.

“A future mother-in-law is still a mother-in-law. I’m pretty much obligated to spend time with her.” Marinette huffs at Adrien. “And even if she wasn’t, she’s still my godmother.”

There’s choking, squawking, and a strangled noise of realization from the other side of the com. Red Hood himself was sputtering, Marinette wondered if his saliva was collecting on the inside of his helmet.

Really, that couldn’t be comfortable or sanitary.

“Nevertheless, if you won’t help us, we’re going to have problems.” she growled at Red Hood, before turning the comm off and tossing it aside.

“If you don’t want to help, I won’t force the issue.” Marinette pouted at Red Hood, then shifted her disappointment to Adrien. “I thought you said he’d want to help.”

“I really thought he’d want to.” Adrien said mournfully.

“Alright then, we’ll just keep you locked up until it’s over and release you tomorrow morning.” Marinette sighed, giving the vigilante a glance before turning back to her partner. “We don’t have much time, who else do you know is skilled with guns and would be willing to help us shoot the Joker?”

Red Hood spasmed and jerked up. “ Woah. Hey now, maybe I was being a little too hasty in my decision making. I’d be willing to give the plan a listen.”

“Oh?” Marinette perked up, “That’s wonderful!”

Ch 2 Bonus

“He won’t work for you.” a gruff voice came out over the coms.

“So, Red Hood, what do you say?” Marinette prods her captive.

“Didn’t Batman just say I wouldn’t?”

“Well,” Marinette replied petulantly. “he’s not the boss of you.”

There was a beat of silence and despite Marinette’s glee, she could feel the “oh shit,” silence from the other side of the com.

Then, Adrien’s cackling cut through the quiet. “Oh my gods, I can literally hear them all thinking, ‘Don’t do it. It’s a trap!’.”

Ch 2 Bonus 2

“Robin, who are we dealing with.” Batman demanded.

“Baby bird, was that your fiance, since when do you have a fiance? Or do we have another sibling we don’t know about?”

“I thought the league would want you to marry a woman to continue to the line. Why is your fiance a guy?”

“Tt. She is most likely using a voice changer.”

“ She? That was a girl? ”

“ Robin. ”

Damian sighed. “I do not know her real name, I’ve always just called her Uma. As she said, she is my mother’s god daughter. She doesn’t break promises so we know she won’t actually hurt Red Hood, but what she’s after, I can’t say.”

“Try.”

“Father, it could be anything from wanting directions to a store to decorating the entirety of Gotham all the colors of the rainbow because she thinks it looks too dreary to needing information on a hit. In the League, she was most well-known for being unpredictable and chaotic.” Then, after a moment of debate, he added. “If you want an example, she is also known for being the main instigator of the zombie whale incident.”

“Excuse me?”

“The what? ” Red Robin squawked.

“Elaborate.” Batman growled.

“As she would say,” Damian replied dryly. “Long story short, she dropped a whale on my grandfather.”

#maribat #daminette #damianette #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #arranged marriage #zombie whale incident #trope snippets #crack fic?#i guess #tenses suck #unreliable writter warning: may never update #It's on ao3 #reincarnated marinette #reincarnated adrien #mentions of other fandoms #lots of references #bizarre coping mechanisms #no longer connected chapters #Ven's Fanfics

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singeramg · 4 years

Note

Jealous!Reader when she and Henry are watching BvS, she huffs and curses him every time Henry touches or kisses Amy Adams and Henry finding it hilarious and cute? Thanks 🙏

Hi Anon!

Thanks for the ask! I appreciate you for this, its not very long, maybe more of a slightly extended Drabble but nevertheless I hope you enjoy this.

Character: Henry Cavill x Black! Reader

Warnings: Mostly Language and implied smut.

Rating: M

Green Eyed Monster for the Blue Eyed Man

Envy

It had been a quiet day around the house, Henry was enjoying the time he left before he was off to film again and you’d been happy to have him home. He delighted in having you be domestic with him and other than a few phone calls it had been mostly uninterrupted. Walks with Kal, making foods he was sure his trainer would kill him for later and of course thoroughly making up for the time he hadn’t been able to spend with you physically. He made sure you rechristened every room in the house, including his newly converted gaming room.

He loved that you knew when to give him space and when he needed you. You didn’t often give him a hard time about much, that’s why at first Henry thought he was imagining things. The small puffs of air, the way you’d suddenly find something that had to be done the minute an intimate scene in one of his films or his shows came on. The mumbles and grumbles that leave your lips are barely unintelligible but if he was right it wasn’t anything nice. He has to test his theory so he cuts on Batman vs. Superman as the film for that night, under the guise that he wants to get back into the right headspace for the few reshoots he’d be doing for Snyder’s cut of the Justice League film. You don’t even argue with him about it and settle into his arms on the couch.

He pretends to be watching the screen but he actually is watching your reactions and it doesn’t take long to disengage yourself from his arms with a huff when Amy comes onto the screen.

“Fucking A...”

You grumbled under your breath.

“Did you say something love?” Henry asks you and he looks over at you but your eyes are narrowed at him and Amy kissing on the large flatscreen TV.

“Nope.”

You huff again and give him the fakest grin. He hadn’t seen that since you were back in the states for a visit and some woman became fascinated by your hair and had the audacity to try and touch it. He watched as you calmly told the lady that you were not a dog and no she could not pet you. All with that same fake smile you were giving him right now. He also remembers how you exploded in the car as soon as the door closed. You’d always been good at hiding your feelings when needed so it does not offer him any comfort that you are actually okay.

“Are you sure?” He presses for more of an answer but you don’t give it. In fact you make an excuse despite having eaten just over an hour ago, that you were hungry and went into the kitchen to make some popcorn.

He hears you tossing things around into the sink and he is doing his damnest not to laugh at you. You are standing at the kitchen counter pouring the fresh popcorn into a bowl and tossing some to Kal who absolutely loved the treats. Henry walks up behind you, hands encircle your hips, his lips kiss your neck softly but honestly you were still annoyed.

Honestly you knew it was dumb and maybe even childish but you were highly annoyed.

“Baby come on.” He says trying to get you relaxed but you were not going for it.

“Hen, I’m tired, let's just finish the movie.” You walk by him, Kal in tow and plopped back down on the couch this time on the opposite end. The moment Amy comes back on screen you’ve rolled your eyes so hard Henry is surprised they haven’t rolled out onto the table.

“Damn she can’t keep her hands to herself can she.”

It’s that sentence that sends Henry into the full blown laughter that he has been holding back.

“And what in the hell is so funny Cavill?!”

He moves closer to you and you now have a full blown pout and have your arms crossed over your chest. All that is missing is for you to stomp on the ground.

“Baby girl don’t tell me you are jealous of a movie I filmed before you came into my life with a woman that is truly harmless...”

“Fuck harmless Henry. I can’t be the only one the notices how she talks about you in the interviews and excuse the fuck out of me but you seem way too entirely into those kisses.”

“Y/n it’s called acting.”

“Acting my ASS! She is out here trying to be your windpipe and shit.You are just out here playing me for a fool aren’t you? You think I can’t see through that shit...”

Henry is still damn near in tears laughing at the situation because most of the time it was him that had to fight off the green monster.

He was constantly worried you were going to find someone better than him. You were absolutely gorgeous and it would be nothing for you to find a man that could constantly give you the time and attention that he couldn’t. So to see you so jealous makes him excited because to him it means you were just as crazy about him as he was about you. It only made him want you more.

“Baby I promise I don’t want anyone but you.”

“Fuck the shit Henry! You...”

He can see you losing it slightly with you pouting and through his laughter he surprises you by picking you up from the couch and the next thing you know your tossed caveman style over his shoulder as he takes you to your shared bedroom.

“What in the hell Henry put me down?!!!”

You are pounding at his back, but it didn’t hurt and he carries you until he drops you across your bed blue eyes sparkling with mischief and it makes you flutter but you don’t show it to him, in fact you tried you yank away, and the minute you try to go to the other side of the bed, he pulls you back to him by the ankles, smothering your body with his own weight, and you push at his pecs, but of course he doesn’t move and you don’t really want him to, liking how he feels over you.

“Oh darling let me show you one of the many reasons you don’t have any reason to be jealous…”

A/n: So who would possibly be jealous of Amy getting to kiss Henry lol If it was me I'd probably play it up just a little just for the attention. LOL

Possibly I would consider the continuation of just how Henry snaps ( smuts) the reader out of the jealously if enough are interested but for now we end it here.

Henry tag list (still open)

@msblkfire84 @magdelen69 @peeyewpeeyew @agniavateira @fcgrizi @diehadess @mary-ann84 @snowbellexx @tearsontape13 @tvdplusriverdale @p3nny4urth0ught5 @laxgirl1799 @crazymexicanfangirl @iloveyouyen @oddduckthatgirl @pinkcollectorparadiseblr @sweetybuzz25 @normatural @keiva1000 @cosmoeticss @luclittlepond @radaofrivia @vikingsbifrost @harrysthiccthighss @suueeeeeee @maan24 @rn7rocks @dearlybelovedluke

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x Black! Reader #anon asks #drabble

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gothmedia · 3 years

Text

Movie Review: My Summer as a Goth

”If you don’t care what people think, why did you just ask me what I thought?” Overview and Plot My Summer as a Goth is a crowd funded movie directed by Tara Johnson-Medinger. It stars Joey, a morose teen who constantly talks about her dead dad and gets angry when other people talk about her dead dad. Since her mother is a prolific author set to do a book tour, Joey is shipped about 45 minutes out of town to her grandparents' house for the summer. There she becomes interested in the neighbor boy, an even more sullen teen called Victor. Victor notices Joey's interest and whisks her away into the world of goth summer romance. In terms of production, very nice looking film. Professional. I liked that the beginning of the movie looked very washed-out and reflected the mood well, getting warmer as the summer went on. I also loved the texting graphics. The movie was well-paced and a good length, however the passage of time in the movie was a bit odd. VERY soon after the movie says summer starts it’s the Fourth of July, then again only a short time later everyone’s talking about how the summer is almost over. Joey even gets mad at her mother in one instance for not being available in time, but it seems like the mother responded back in about a day while Joey makes it out that it took weeks. The in-movie passage of time was very confusing for me. Most of the characters were well-written with some hiccups mostly on the grandparent’s and Antonio’s end. Costume design was on-point. Sound was fine and the music choices throughout were wonderful. Overall, the film had really good production value.

Moving into spoiler territory, Joey’s grandparents are a ride as they swing from giving Joey hundreds of dollars and baking her pot brownies to telling at her she can’t stay out late and that she needs an exorcism. Antonio, a punk, starts the movie off by getting into a fist fight with Victor, but later becomes a loveable member of the cast. We meet Cob and Pen, the “goth swan couple”. They’re Victor’s friends and a breath of fresh air; despite having morose interests they’re very bubbly and outgoing. I wish more of the movie had them in it. They along with Victor decide to give Joey a makeover and invite her to a few different events over the summer including a silent disco in a graveyard, a party at Pandora’s house, and a concert. They also go on a camping trip with Joey, her grandparents, and one of Joey’s high school friends. Eventually, Joey gets annoyed with Victor’s constant toxic attitude and finds out he’s cheating on her. Everything’s fine in the end as the summer comes to a close and she goes back to school with Antonio as her new boyfriend and her new, darker look.

Joey the babybat has daddy issues. In the beginning Joey feels acts catty and defensive about everything. Don’t worry, she never really grows out of that. Pretty much everything about her revolves around either the fact that her father is dead or her relationship with Victor. She does have an art hobby that’s shown throughout the movie but she seems almost embarrassed by it? It’s never actually brought up by any characters and no one ever looks through her sketchbook or shows interest in it. Which I found really odd because a lot of the goths I know in real life tend to be pretty creative and would love it? Anyway, she falls head-first into goth because of a boy. I know that’s how some people get into the subculture, but it kind-of sours the movie because it seems like she also only stays in the subculture because of the boy. In the beginning she mentions liking the music and how it helps her express how she feels inside, but other than Victor, we really don’t get to see how she thinks about the subculture. She’s friends with Cob and Pen because they’re Victor’s friends. She goes to events because Victor goes. She dresses up because Victor wants her to. But once Victor is out of the picture, why does she stay? Other than the passing mention of music at the beginning, she really has no interest in the goth scene. She’s never shown engaging with the scene on her own terms, and I find that a little disappointing. When I was a babybat I was reading goth blogs like Stripy Tights and Dark Delights, I was trying to get my hands on back issues of Gothic Beauty, I was watching a ton of different youtubers talk about the scene and I just wanted more. There’s none of that with Joey save for a short scene where she watches tutorials on how to do her hair and make-up. (Which, admittedly was really cute.) I didn’t understand WHY Joey stays a goth at the end of the movie and I think it’s because the movie really didn’t portray the positive aspects of the subculture as much. Also, Joey needs to work on her attitude problem. She mentions her dead dad quite a bit at the beginning and gets upset when other people mention it back to her. At the end of the film she calls her mom over heartbreak and when her mom tries to talk about it with her, she acts sarcastic and shuts her mother out, getting mad that she reached out at the wrong time. I’m unsure if it was just Joey going back to her old coping strategies or if she was in the right because I have no idea how much time had passed since the phone call. I’ll never know. Either way, she does dump Victor which is nice and she reconciles with her mother as well. I do like that she feels more comfortable with herself at the end of the movie and begins doing things on her own terms, even if others don’t “get it”. Victor is a VERY well-written, manipulative dick. Storytime! So, there weren’t many goths at my college and we never really had any classes together, but I remember seeing this one kid walking across the street to the art buildings with a flowing black velvet cape over their backpack, an unlaced black poet shirt, platinum white hair in a side-hawk, knee-high black leather boots and a TON of silver jewelry. Honestly, they would have looked so cool if their harem pants weren’t made of chiffon and completely see-through. (Batman boxers!) Seeing Victor for the first time immediately reminded me of that. Over the top, charming, charismatic and a bit silly. I liked him at first. His wit is dry and in the beginning he didn’t take himself of the subculture TOO seriously, making jokes about vampires. I liked that he seemed to be having fun chatting about music and dressing up Joey. And then there came the lipstick. Honestly, the lipstick was used absolutely perfectly to show how the relationship is souring and how manipulative Victor really is. It really is a gradual showing of how things are going south in their relationship and how Victor isn’t as much as a downcast victim as he puts on. Later on in the movie he starts reminding me of that Bruiser sketch where there’s two goths and one of them is just badgering the other one that he can’t take his sweater off in the summer or join in on seasports because it’s “not goth”. He begins chastising Joey for not looking perfect at all times or not knowing things about the subculture despite the fact that he just dresses her up and brings her to parties instead of actually trying to integrate her to the local scene or teaching her about music or history. Eventually he goes back to hooking up with Pandora, something he apparently does frequently because Joey is not the first person he’s cheated on and literally everyone in town warns Joey about it. Victor clearly has a massively inflated ego and you love to hate him in the end. There are definitely his type in goth scenes around the world and I can see how he stays in good graces with the other asshole friends he has. Some people just really like being elitists. The one thing I can’t figure out, though, is why Pen and Cob are friends with him. They’re so nice compared. A punk by jacket only and why casual homophobia makes me salty. Antonio is... hoo boy, is he a thing. First introduced starting a fight with Victor you think, "Ah, this is the antagonist of the movie. I wonder why they made the punk an asshole? Usually punks are okay with goths." Luckily for us, he apologizes for the outburst and becomes a friend of the main cast. We learn he likes canasta and plays guitar. Oddly, he doesn't seem to have any punk patches or pins on his jacket and never actually mentions punk music. He does, however, mention goth music and he seems familiar with the other goths in town going to their events, so it seems he's on good standing with them despite bullying the goths at the beginning of the film. Seeing as goths would rather pretend to be haughty vampires than get their tail coats in a twist, Antonio makes for a heroic figure in the movie when Joey is in trouble. In my notes I wrote, "Ten bucks says punk kid is gonna save her,” and lo and behold, Antonio comes out of nowhere to save Joey from some bullies. I do like that he uses his rough appearance to his advantage to help people and do the right thing. That pretty accurately describes every punk I’ve ever met. They look tough as nails, but you’ll only see that side of them if you absolutely deserve to.

It's also revealed that Antonio is not straight as he's seen making out with some guy at a concert, mentions having had a previous relationship with Victor, and is being made fun of for being gay in the end. He also ends the film by being Joey's boyfriend. Pardon, what? I'm kind-of tired of this heteronormative nonsense where movies have to end with all main characters (Sans the villain, of course.) end up in a happy straight relationship. Joey's non-goth friend who's in the movie for a very short amount of time also ends up with a goth boyfriend because happily-ever-after and all that. It probably wouldn't have sat as poorly with me if they didn't make fun of Antonio for "looking gay" which in context makes no sense since he's pretty gender conforming compared to the goth men in the film. It also didn’t help that there were comments about lesbians at the beginning of the movie. At one point Joey's grandparents suggest she might like girls and Joey rebukes it with vitriol saying her grandparents are "too cool". The same kind of vitriol you hear when a straight person tells you they could never imagine being gay, that's disgusting. Oh, but they support your "choices", hm? I just wish Antonio’s character was a bit more fleshed out and he didn’t end up being back-up male love interest that’s only there to save female lead from bad guys and heartbreak. First rule of Goth Music is you don’t talk about Goth Music? The movie introduces goth along with music. The music in the film is honestly really good and a good portrayal of what goths actually listen to. Joey mentions she likes the music near the beginning and she goes to events such as a silent disco, a party, and a concert. Despite music obviously being a major source of community in the movie, no one actually talks about it other than that one instance of Joey mentioning she likes it. No one suggests bands to her or actually goes to the parties or concerts to do anything other than make out. The silent disco is the only real instance of them listening and dancing to the music and it feels like it's over in a flash. Though, the corny goth dance moves in that scene kind-of make up for it. At one point Antonio pulls out a guitar and asks if Joey wants him to play “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”. She mentions she’s never heard of it which leads Antonio to ask if she’s new to the scene. At another point in the party, Joey asks someone if they like Marylin Manson. While this is an obvious faux pas to anyone actually in the goth scene, no one actually engages with her in conversation about it. How was Joey supposed to know his music isn’t goth? Wasn’t she listening to goth music earlier at the silent disco? Or the music she said sounded pretty from Victor’s room when they met? How did she get this far liking these bands but not noticing that they sound nothing like Marylin Manson and did she never look them up on her own to listen to them later? She obviously likes them, so it really surprises me that she only got in the goth scene for a guy.

Robert Smith NEVER has smeared lipstick. /s The emphasis on appearance is a little annoying throughout the movie, but I guess it had to be. It fits Victor's personality to change Joey's personal style to match his, and the makeover scene was fun, but I wish there would have been more diversity in the cast of townie goths who attend the parties, concerts, and discos. I counted one person with blonde hair and a small handful of older goths. I didn't notice any non-white goths and unfortunately the movie placed quite the emphasis on pale skin and trying to avoid tanning. I know people like the white face along with dark make-up and looking vamp-ish, but when all your characters are in white greasepaint and there's no PoC to be seen in goth garb it sends a message that only white people can be goth and that's really something we need to kill in the subculture. I did, however, like the wardrobe choices. I liked that Joey got her wardrobe from a thrift store and that she dyed a top she already owned. She looked up tutorials on how to do her hair and make-up and it never looked perfect. That's a good thing. Baby Bats won't know how to do a bats nest hairstyle, they won't know to blend foundation to the neck, and they won't have a perfect eyeliner wing. No one mentioned alt-brand name clothing and no one had a perfectly couture outfit that media likes to sell as a stereotypical goth teenager. The goths actually looked like goths. Their wardrobes were things you'd actually see in a club and we get to see that they wear a plain black tank top and shorts when milling about the house, only breaking out the corsets and top hats for big events. The older goths were more well put together and that makes sense because they've been in the subculture longer and have had time to figure out what they like and what looks good on them. The costuming department did a really great job with this. Ah, but as a side note about wardrobe, who donates brand new, tall Docs to a thrift store??? You can’t sit with us. And sadly, the worst part of Goth in the movie- community. What was that, film? Other than the three main goths, we only get to see other goths at large events and they all seem a bit catty? You have the silent disco, which was cute but no one really spoke to or interacted with each other. Pen and Cob are kind-of doing their own thing throughout no matter who they’re with. We also have the house party and the concert. The other goths there are.... pretty much just there to be judgy because Joey’s new? The first time I went to a club in a new city and didn’t know anyone some random person grabbed my hands and dragged me to the dancefloor. It was fun! People would ask the DJ what he was spinning and they weren’t shamed for not knowing. If someone’s jacket ripped, five people would come out of the woodwork with a safety pin and afterwards we’d all pile into Denny’s and laugh and joke and talk about nothing. I’m not saying there’s no “Gothier-than-Thou” types, believe me I’ve met more than a few, but in a movie that’s trying to portray someone WANTING to become a goth, why not portray the subculture as more inviting? Also, with the comments from Victor and a few other remarks, it seems like alcohol is needed to blend into the goth scene, and that definitely isn’t the case. Sure, a lot of us love absinth or a snakebite in black, but it’s not needed to fit in with the cool kids at the club. The community really is my favorite thing about this subculture and I feel it was a disservice that most goths were showcased as uninviting. I can understand Joey not being wanted at the party initially as she wasn’t invited in the first place and perhaps the eldergoths in the room didn’t want to have to have an impromptu etiquette and history lesson with a babybat when they’re supposed to be relaxing, but the point of the movie was to showcase why Joey wants to be a goth. She never makes friends outside of Victor’s immediate group and never tries to find community or information about the scene online or anything. I guess that is how babybats do act a lot of the time, but again, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, the point of the movie is showing why someone would WANT to be a goth. Final Thoughts. The goth scene in the movie looked like a regular goth scene. I liked the emphasis on thrifting and DIY and that newcomers don’t come out of the womb knowing the lyrics to the entirety of Floodland. The music was phenomenal. I liked that the music featured was goth music, but not the main five bands that everyone already knows. I liked that the events attended were focused mainly around music. I liked seeing actual goth dance moves on screen. I liked that people in the movie did use terminology found in the subculture and made jokes about the subculture that insiders would actually make. I liked that Pen and Cob were wonderfully peppy despite their dark interests, I liked that we got punk-goth solidarity. I liked that it did remind me a bit of my babybat years and got me missing clubs and events. I miss all my friends... I really do...

I was put off by the passage of time in the movie, Joey’s cattiness with anyone who tries to help her, the light and casual homophobia sprinkled in, and the negative-leaning portrayal of the goth community. Other than that, though, I did think it was a good movie with a satisfying ending and I would really suggest people check it out. It’s probably the most accurate portrayal of goths in any media, really, and it’s worth a watch. At the very least, go listen to the soundtrack on BandCamp.

#gothgoth #goth #my summer as a goth #movie review #long post

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movedyoakkemae · 3 years

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dick & bruce throughout the years.

trigger warnings: eating disorders, murder, child abuse, allusions to rape, allusions to suicidal behaviours.

Dick and Bruce have a very complicated relationship that has gone from being great to terrible to mellowed to terrible to mellow again. I’d like to preface this that I don’t hate Bruce -- he is not a perfect father, and he does care very much for Dick, but in some ways, that isn’t enough when coupled with some of the actions that he has taken. Despite the fact that, at twenty-five, Dick has forgiven Bruce for a lot of his faults over the years, he has not forgotten.

For the sake of ease, I’ve split this meta into sections of the vague timeline and, sometimes, differences in their interactions. Like everything in Dick’s backstory, this is a mix of canon, fanon, and my own headcanons. I will not push this on Bruce writers and if there’s stuff not canon to your Bruce, I’m willing to adjust.

Early Robin Years. (Ages 9 - 14).

Dick was a relatively angry and traumatised kid from his parents’ murder, and when he first moved into the manor, he didn’t want a parent in Bruce. He wanted his parents back. He was belligerent towards anything he felt was parental affection. He also had terrible nightmares and night terrors, to the point where he wouldn’t sleep most nights. He also wouldn’t eat much -- a few pieces of fruit here and there.

When Dick was training to be Robin, he actually ended up doing a lot better. He still couldn’t sleep through the night, but he actually could sleep for five-six hours instead of two-three. He also started eating more (even if he still didn’t have much of an appetite), and things got even better when he started patrolling as Robin.

This, in part, is why Bruce wasn’t as reluctant to let Dick out as Robin as some reasonable parents might expect him to be. Well, in a lot of ways, he was, but seeing how being Robin positively affected Dick, he couldn’t bare to stop him from being Robin.

Their relationship was probably the healthiest during this time period. Bruce had been exactly what he needed in an adult figure at this time, and despite not labelling as “father and son” between them, it was very clearly a father and son relationship to most outsiders. In some ways, perhaps more of a father and an adult son, with Dick oftentimes being Bruce’s emotional support, but Bruce also would ground Dick to make sure he did his homework, and that’s not what one does with an adult son.

However, when Dick was eleven and Two Face beat him into unconsciousness, Bruce did fire Dick as Robin for the first time. Dick ran away from Wayne Manor and joined the junior League of Assassins as “Freddy Lloyd”. Alfred was the one who went in search of Dick while Bruce dealt with the Arkham escapees. Bruce and Dick crossed paths, and Bruce and Dick together took down the leader of the junior League of Assassins and Bruce said that he would rehire Dick again as Robin if he listened to his instructions. Dick agreed, and the two of them went to take down Two-Face.

Also, just a general note, it’s Dick who cajoles Bruce into making friends with who would eventually be the other members of the Justice League, which includes Clark, since Clark and Bruce didn’t meet until after Dick came into Bruce’s life. Dick was often, even as a little kid, teaching Bruce to connect to other people ( and, sometimes, how ).

Late Robin Years. (Ages 14 - 18).

However, Dick and Bruce were feeling that same strain when Dick started to make his own decisions and founded the Titans (along with the rest of the Fab Five). Bruce was dealing with his “my child is growing up” phrase that all parents eventually go through and was dealing with it... poorly. It wasn’t so bad while Dick was still fourteen, but when Dick reached sixteen and was starting to go out on dates and hanging out with the Titans more, they started to get into a lot more arguments.

Also, at this point, both of them were emotionally against their original deal (”You’re not my dad.” “I don’t want to replace your father.”) and Dick did think of Bruce as a father figure and Bruce did think of Dick as a son. However, Dick was feeling the strain of being unsure of whether or not Bruce actually wanted him around because he cared about him or because Bruce wanted to control him. Bruce was not helping in matters because he didn’t outright say that he cared about Dick and was aggressive in his worry.

This all came to an explosive conclusion when Dick gets fired from being Robin after being shot by the Joker. As I mention here, Dick had assumed that being fired meant that Bruce was kicking him out of the manor and out of his life, so he left and moved into the Titans Tower full-time. (A lot of the Titans had to be stopped from heading to Gotham and kicking Bruce’s ass).

Nightwing & Batman Years (Ages 18 - 23).

In the beginning of Dick’s rise to Nightwing, their relationship was still contentious. Dick had all but assumed that Bruce threw him out, and Bruce didn’t really do anything to mitigate these thoughts. They didn’t speak to each other for a year (aside from maybe an awkward phone call or two) until Jason was adopted by Bruce.

As I mention in my Dick & Jason meta, as found here, Dick did not take out his anger towards Bruce on Jason. Instead, he came into the manor and asked Bruce why wasn’t he adopted by him (although, he didn’t begrudge the fact that Jason had been). Bruce admitted that he missed Dick but then asked him to immediately leave the manor. Dick, hurt and reeling from both what he wanted and then having it taken away, did as Bruce asked him to. This caused another bout of silence between the two of them until Dick found out that Jason became Robin.

In this, Dick became furious. Bruce fired him for getting injured in the line-of-duty and not putting his full focus in Gotham once, and now Bruce was going to take his mother’s name and his family’s colours and give it to Jason? Dick stormed into Gotham and nearly came to blows with Bruce about it, and there was a lot of tension throughout their relationship.

This came to a head when Jason dies while Dick was in space and Bruce didn’t even give him a call about it. Dick arrives and Bruce is immediately confrontational and Dick tells Bruce that he wasn’t there to fight. Bruce continues being confrontational and Dick rises up in response when he feels that Bruce is blaming him. Bruce punches Dick in the face when he thinks that Dick is blaming him for Jason’s death and then shouts an angry tirade and officially breaks all ties with Dick.

Regardless of his age and the fact that Bruce was mourning and that both were eventually confrontational, I do consider this punch to be child abuse. This, coupled with Dick also mourning Jason’s loss and assuming that he wasn’t considered to be family, causes the silence between Dick and Bruce to become frosty.

Tim in a lot of ways saved Bruce’s life but also saved Dick and Bruce’s relationship. When Tim came into the picture, he managed to get Dick and Bruce to reconcile as well, as it helped that Dick often times came into Gotham to hang out with Tim a lot more than he did with Jason (due to guilt over the fact that he wasn’t 100% around for Jason when Jason needed him). It took a while, but Dick eventually forgave Bruce and they began speaking again, even if it was awkward and stilted at first.

Bruce during this time even admitted to Dick that he does think of Dick as his son and that he feels guilty over the fact that he didn’t adopt Dick when he was a kid and that he was genuinely proud of how Dick grew up, which was great and one of the few times that Bruce was actually emotionally available for Dick.

Now, my thoughts on the Blockbuster and Tarantula plotline will be its own meta later, but a lot of Dick’s denial about what happened with Tarantula caused him to focus more on what happened with Blockbuster and Bruce’s reaction to the fact that Dick essentially allowed Blockbuster to die. (There is, in part, fear of what Bruce’s reaction to be if he found out what happened on that rooftop, but Dick buries it down. Pretends it doesn’t exist).

Bruce’s confrontation with Dick when Dick was suicidal was both good and kind of worrying, with him being aggressive but saying a lot of what Dick needed to hear. Dick felt a little bit more confident that Bruce wasn’t going to kick him out or hate him for his role in Blockbuster’s death, and the two of them were a bit better for it.

In my timeline, two years later, Dick was adopted by Bruce when he was 22. Dick signed the papers without hesitation, but he didn’t attach “-Wayne” to his last name. He still didn’t feel comfortable with calling Bruce “Dad” to his face, and very rarely did he refer to Bruce as “Dad” or “his father” internally or to the other siblings. In some ways, the lateness of the adoption made him feel awkward, but it still mostly strengthen the idea that Bruce wasn’t just going to throw Dick away.

There isn’t much to say on their relationship while the family thought Bruce was dead. Dick missed Bruce a lot and wished he hadn’t been dead.

Back-to-Nightwing & Grayson & Back-to-Nightwing-Again Years (Ages 24 - Present).

Dick had spent some time when Bruce was back as another Batman but bowed out after a few days because he assumed that Bruce and Damian would want to have the time to relearn how to be father and son again without him in the picture. Dick also knew that he would eventually flip his shit @ Bruce in another argument, and he didn’t want Damian to see that, so he left.

By leaving as early as he did and without waiting for another fall-out to emerge, Dick and Bruce actually had a good relationship until Forever Evil happened.

Bruce, so upset over the fact that he had to watch Dick die in front of him, reacts in absolutely the worst way possible -- literally gets into a fist-fight with Dick and forces him to go undercover while making Dick be complicit in keeping the secret of him being alive from the family. This is the worst absolute fucking thing Bruce could have done at this point and, literally, I will never forget this.

Dick was pissed when he came back from being Grayson, but he swallowed it back down because Damian was alive and he didn’t want anything to stain both his and Damian’s return. He was so absolutely furious, though, that Bruce had kept Damian’s return from him because Bruce knew that Dick would have given up on Spyral and came back if he knew Damian had come back to life.

Still, he didn’t argue with Bruce, didn’t even argue with his family members who blamed him solely for the Spyral and him “lying” about being dead. He took that blame, left for the newly rebuilt Bludhaven, and is trying to ignore everything that went down around the whole Agent Grayson debacle. He’s mostly succeeded and is good at acting like everything’s 100% alright between him and Bruce on his side.

Just in general, Dick is always worried about what Bruce thinks of him. He never thinks he’s good enough for Bruce, even though Bruce could say over and over again that he thinks of Dick as being better than him in almost every way. In most instances, Bruce doesn’t apologise for things, Dick has to reach out himself and fix things, and then Dick takes on the burden of Bruce’s lack of emotional responsibilities and has to “understand” Bruce and why he won’t apologise.

In a lot of ways, their dynamic is unhealthy. Dick really feels the need on taking on the role of Bruce’s emotional support and takes the brunt of Bruce’s lack of emotional intelligence. Often times, Dick internalises it as being his fault. They do really love and care for each other, but Bruce just needs to be not only a better father, but also a better person and be able to apologise for his mistakes. He has on occasion, or has risen to the occasion and actually shared his emotions in a positive way, but not always.

Dick doesn’t hesitate to call Bruce out when Bruce is being shit to the rest of the family, but sometimes with when it happens to him, it’s a mixed bag. Sometimes he calls Bruce out about it, sometimes he internalises it. It’s not always Bruce’s fault whenever Dick internalises his perception of Bruce’s negative opinion, but Bruce could be doing more to showcase that he would always love, care, and support Dick. It also doesn’t help that sometimes he gives mixed signals in that regard (i.e., telling Dick he missed him and then immediately telling him to get out of the manor).

They love each other, but Bruce especially needs to be better at communicating and needs to actually reach out more in a way that’s not confrontational or condescending or ignorant to the fact that Dick is an adult but still his kid. Bruce is often times good at small gestures but bad at emotional conversations, and sometimes Dick needs that.

Some metas written by other people that I feel also encapsulate how I feel about Dick & Bruce really well.

The “Don’t Be My Parent” v. “Why the fuck didn’t you adopt me?” & Bruce’s failings as a parent during this.

Dick & Bruce’s mixture of friends, brothers, and father & son.

#⤷ dick g.【 ❝ well get traught or get dead. ❞ 】metas.#save me holy shit #how am i writing THIS MUCH for a meta yet can't even get 100 words on actual writing #OR EVEN WRITE A BIO TF #long post //#mentions of eating disorders //#mentions of murder //#mentions of child abuse //#mentions of rape //#mentions of suicide //

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heartless-error · 4 years

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Dreams

Fandom: DC, Batman

Pairing: Jason Todd x Tim Drake (JayTim)

Rating: Explicit, sexual themes, NSFW

Other link(s): AO3

Once it's a chance, twice is a coincidence and third time is a pattern. Rather a problem, at least for Jason.

He hadn't been surprised the first time it happened, if he was honest with himself he could have seen that coming, given how betrayed and blessed equally he felt when he returned to Gotham and couldn't look away from Tim Drake.

But one thing was dreaming about fucking Tim couple of times and other was dream's world reminding him every night about the sexual and romantic unresolved tension between them.

He just wanted to explode things, dammit.

Dreams

The first time it happened, Jason was not really surprised.

It was, in a certain way, but if he was honest with himself it was something that he could have been expected. Especially considering how his eyes had been glaring almost instinctively toward the object of his desires and the events that have been occurred in the recent months since his return to Gotham.

At the beginning he was not even aware of what and who was dreaming exactly, but the dream was recreating slowly in a haze which seemed to have darkened his surroundings.

The world had gone off around him and his partner, he didn’t know where he was or if he should worry about whether the bed in which he was, was his or not, but he doesn’t care at all and if the owner of the room doesn’t care about the clothes scattered around the room, he neither. Especially when he just wanted to feel more of the sensations the other body just gave him at his mercy, his warmth, his movements and how they melt on the sheets enjoying the carnal act.

It was desperate, impatient, brutal, how they attacked the other, how they felt and swung their bodies in sync seeking their own pleasure. And as their hands caressed firmly each extension of available skin, lips met with passion in deep and impatient kisses, the temperature rose and the breathing quicken, Jason felt a tug on his chest, a feeling between need and ... relief?

He couldn’t know.

But he wanted more, more, more.

He wanted to leave more hickeys, kisses and licks in that small but muscular body, in that scarred and marked skin, perfect at his eyes. He wanted to feel how the person under him shudder and sigh for his touch, moaning because of their hips rubbing against each other in a pleasant frenzy.

More.

Faster, stronger, more groans, more pleasure. More of everything.

“J-Jason… Jason…”

It was breathed in his ear while strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and a firm leg hooked around his waist. Fingernails raking into his back, that body melting into his touch, making Jason shudder, shake and feel liberated, free, wild.

Slowly he started to know, he knew, he realized it already, who it was and what he wanted from him.

How much time he had been waiting for this?

Feeling hazy, Jason ran his fingers around those abs, touching softly those hickeys he had done willingly and drowning in lust in the way the other mewled. He shoved a hand between their legs desperately to stroke their lengths together and starts a firmly sway, inhaling sharply as listened the other person bite a moan.

God.

How long he wanted to do this?

“Jay!”

He wasn’t sure, but he wants him, he wants him so so much. His whole body was screaming, shaking for him. He wants to mark him, possess him, make him his own, make him scream his name in pleasure again and again until his voice breaks, until he clenches and collapse. Make his brilliant and always perfect brain a complete mess.

Fuck, he wants him.

And without stopping that pleasant swing, he raised the other hand to stroke the black hair that had grown again, so smooth, so soft, pulling it back to expose his neck and sank his teeth to leave a rough bite.

His, all his. For him and nobody else.

He wants to shout it, proclaim it. Because he knew, he already knew.

Whose body was this, who was this person. How much he wants to feel him, ruin him, fuck him deeply and incoherently, scream his name in moans and makes him tremble in ecstasy in the same way he was doing just by listening to him.

Releasing that hair, his hand caress those swollen, red lips, with a clear idea of what he wanted to do next. Which it was immediately understood and put in practice when the other started to suck his fingers as if it were the most succulent dish they had ever seen.

“Oh, shit… You...” Jason couldn’t help to gasp at that sight.

Heat eradicated all rational though and at this point he might think that what ran through his body was pure lava. But his brain was a complete mess when the other opened his eyes, when he saw those damn eyes.

His fucking eyes.

Those baby blue, almost like ice, were given him the most sinful and provocative look Jason had never seen, with that hunger smile on that angel face. A demon in disguise, making him sweat, shaking his whole world from the inside.

“¡Tim!” He cried out almost on the edge of ecstasy. “B-Baby bird... Ti- “

And then he woke up.

Confused, dazed, tangled in the sheets of his security home’s bed and hornier than he remembers ever having been.

“Oh.” He said simply, realizing what had happened.

He could have pretended to be surprised, or think about it, but it was late, he didn’t have to respond to anyone, he was tired, sweaty, his erection needed immediate attention and his brain wasn’t want to think deeply about what the best dream he had in years meant when i was still fresh in his mind.

So, that night Jason decided to live the moment and took care of his problem between his legs.

And if he jacked off thinking about Tim Drake and ended crying out his name in the sheets, well, that’s something nobody had to know.

~ 0.0 ~

Nobody had to know, which was fine.

But he knew it, which was wrong.

Not only because Tim is legally his little brother, or the third Robin, or Bruce’s perfect soldier, or Gotham’s golden boy, or the person who he tried to kill several times -almost some success over the years-, or those thousands reasons why Jason knew, really knew, it was a little (just a little) wrong to look at Tim in that way.

No.

It was because now he couldn’t forget about it too.

Because after that dream, it was as if a small switch which had been laid in the dark corners of his twisted mind had been pressed, as if a dam had collapsed and all that thoughts that had been behind it had leaked out of control.

And he couldn’t stop them.

In his poor and useless defense, he couldn’t have stopped them even if he had realized their existence before. How the fuck he would have known that his Babybird would grow up like that? While he was gone, puberty hit Tim Drake with the strength of three angry Banes, and once the kid got rid of Robin’s suit, grew a few inches (two or three maximum), the lifetime training made effect on his body and his young face was no longer similar to a baby seal, the intelligent and lethal Red Robin was born, whose face was pretty even with the black mask on and that red, tight uniform showed every little and important detail -his ass, he is talking about his ass- that neither him nor the rogues in Gotham should stare.

But they did, how could they not? Jason had felt betrayed and blessed equally when he returned Gotham and was welcomed by a greater and an incredibly attractive vision of the little and clumsy boy he tried to kill.

“Got something?” He asked indifferently as he watched Tim navigates databases to find something new about the case they were working together.

Tim’s penthouse was a mess, like always, and the number of cups of coffee scattered around could be considered indecent and dangerous, but at least was comforting to know that all was not perfect and pristine in the boy. And although Jason was desperate at the beginning knowing how live his replacement, he had already reached the point where they had worked so many time together to let him go and resigned to the fact that Alfred was the only one to do such miracles in the family.

“Wait.” Tim said totally concentrated, almost ignoring him.

Well, it’s not personal, he already knows when Tim focus on something he couldn’t stop until it’s finish. He’s like a bloodhound, relentless and stubborn.

But at the same time, it was annoying.

Quite annoying, because Jason has been struggling to control certain thoughts about Tim these days, something difficult when Tim is the most unconscious human being of the earth. He really didn’t seem to notice the way he smelled, how he arched in his seat to pay attention at work, how he bites his lower lip in concentration and his eyes sparkled with determination as his uniform highlight every curve and tight muscle of his firm and small body.

God yes, he’s small. But so dangerous.

Jason likes that, and maybe he’s just whipped, but he was proud for being so perceptive.

“What if I bite him?” He though as he fixed his gaze on Tim’s nape, which was partially covered by his dark hair, but not enough to reveal how much the kevlar suit cover above.

What would be his reaction if he did? If he marked him without any warning and inhale his scent? He would get pissed? Would he look at him with that furious and cold gaze? As much as he likes to tease Timmy because of him reactions, in his dreams he shuddered, moaned and seemed to want more.

But this was not a dream, of course. And consent is sexy too.

Even if he wanted to live that dream so much.

His thoughts were interrupted when those baby blue met his and Tim got up from his seat.

“I have something. Come on, Hood.” He said as diligent as ever and going to get what was left of his uniform.

And while Jason was recovering himself, joking and trying to tease Red Robin a little during the patrol, he pretended with that jerk smile of him not to look at that body and appreciate it in the distance.

Again, his ass.

“I will get over this.” He tried to convince himself as he follows Red Robin across the buildings, ready to kick out some bad guys tonight to get off his frustrations. “I’m sure.”

This crush, desire, attraction or whatever he had for Tim now, he will get over it. For sure.

He has to.

~ 0.0 ~

He couldn’t.

Moreover, it was worse than ever.

Because in one way to another they had found out that they were a very good team, which means they started to work together more often, and because they were in field together more frequently, they trusted the other more easily. And the more they trusted each other more down were their guard, and the more they lowered their guard, more comfortable were around the opposite. And were comfortable together meant more cases, more fights covering their backs, more dinners in the roofs, more internal jokes, more movie nights on one of their safe house’s couch in pajamas and popcorn, more training together and remove their uniform and mask when they were alone to eat, laugh or talk.

Confidence sucks, Jason was sure.

Especially when that confidence grew up that unresolved sexual tension between them.

Jason knew he wasn’t the only one, it was mutual. Of course he knew it, he had never been so proud of discover something in his life. And because of the time he had been looking at Tim, he ended up noticing how his Babybird looked at him too when he thought he wasn’t attentive.

Discreet glances in the cave’s showers or when they wear off their uniforms, prudent touches in any situation that triggered that electricity around them, a flirt that went noticed by the others, teasing jokes, little blushes of one, fantasies of the other, the constant approach and the change of atmosphere when they were together and into their own world.

“He knows?” Jason asked himself as he looked slightly the guy next to him, trying not to seem too distracted to the film they had chosen to see that night.

Did Tim knew?

What he caused? What his approached caused him?

Now his dreams were more frequent and imaginative, and jerk off his frustrations or kick bad guys was not so effective than before when his mind tells him all nights how good it would be if he grabbed Tim right now, kissed him until he was shivering and whimpering on his lap and fucked him on the couch until he passed out.

Or on the floor.

Or the kitchen counter.

Or the Batcomputer’s board.

Or Bruce’s office desk.

Or even on the bed, he could be traditional sometimes.

It wasn’t healthy to think those things when the object of his apparently now irrepressible sexual libido was right beside him, but lately he also had found himself fantasizing awake and it was that or keep wondering if Tim was aware of what was happening between them.

Because even if he’s still the most unconscious man on earth, he’s the second-best detective in the world. And throughout these months he has come to possess the strange skill to read him like an open book and understand each of his insults and bad jokes.

Without realizing it, he looked at the dark-haired boy again. And what was his surprise when he met Tim’s blue eyes in the process, both looking away as soon as possible, as if they hadn’t caught glaring each other in a needy way.

What was he thinking? Of course Timmy knows, even a dick would realize.

The question is, what will they do about it?

Because they had a rough past and Jason is not exactly a being of light, it’s not the best option for Tim, he’s aware of that. And getting along with Tim didn’t mean he was in good terms with the rest of the bats, and especially these days when he had been receiving several threatening and inquisitive looks from Dick and Bruce because of his constant flirt and tease with Tim-Tam, even a… warning? from the Demon’s spawn accompanied by a pair of batarangs directed to his head.

Precisely, the last was the most surprising, who would say the demon child would be protective over Tim? Life is a ride. Or maybe it was because Damian saw himself as the only being with the right to hurt Tim. What would he know about those two relationship, uh?

But it’s a bad idea, he and Tim, it’s the worst of ideas. Even Jason, who is an expert in bringing out bad ideas, know how bad this idea is.

But then he looks at Tim again, looks how his eyes pretending to be fixed on the screen, his pout, his legs crossed on the couch, his neck and shoulder exposed because of the ridiculously large shirt (wait, it’s his?), his relaxed posture which is slightly turned toward him, his calm expression and his hips.

He thinks about how he could hold him without any effort, lift him and take him wherever he wants to possess him, ride his hands over that figure, rip that shirt and eat him alive. Dear god, Tim would moan, he would scream his name, he would make those crystalline eyes look at him with lust and need while his voice breaks because of pleasure. He wants to discover his weak points, where he had to kiss for a sigh, where he had to lick for a groan, how far he could go, how far he could touch him to drive him crazy. Does his blush just stay on his cheeks? Or it would also lower his neck, his chest? He would know, he would know everything if it happened.

If it happened…

It would be a one-time thing?

No, he wanted more, more.

Their eyes met again and this time nobody looked away. The movie was still playing at the background, the dawn in Gotham was starting behind them, the popcorn’s bowl was forgotten, and the couch was uncomfortable as ever. Jason swallowed hard, Tim settled better into his seat, one sank closer, the other too, their shoulders brushed, and someone stared at the other’s lips, eyes saying something that their mouths couldn’t let out, not yet at least.

Are they sure that sexual tension is the only thing between them?

Of course not, they should also do something about the unresolved romantic tension.

Jason was the one who finally looked away, letting out a sigh.

Because dreaming and fantasizing about fucking Tim was one thing, which didn’t surprise him at first. But dreaming and fantasizing about making love to him, enjoy his body as a lover and kiss him for hours during one of those movie nights without do anything else, was something else, and this surely surprised him.

He will get over it?

Maybe not.

A light weight settled on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen for a second before realizing that it was Tim’s head, who had gathered the courage to slide silently and cling next to his body. Now he could feel his warmth and smell the scent of his shampoo, causing his heart jump and his hand acted on his own to gently embrace the smallest’s back and shoulders, bringing him closer.

Both sighed and relaxed at the touch. Tim closed his eyes and Jay still pretended he was watching the movie.

And he knew.

No, he wouldn’t get over it.

~ 0.0 ~

And he didn’t.

Something which he was now quite grateful.

“Look at me.” He ordered in a groan, accelerating his movements. “Tim, look at me.”

The younger was tense beneath him, blushed and arching towards his touch as he accelerated the movement of his fingers inside him, preparing him for what they would do next.

Jason may wonder if this was another dream, he could almost believe it, but he had verified from the start of the night that this was real, it was really happening. The doors were locked, their uniforms scattered on the floor, the sheets rumpled and sweaty and the room smelled of sweat and sex. And nothing could convince him more than Tim at his mercy and his own body quivering in a mixture of pain and heat equally.

Patrol tonight was quiet until an explosion in the port disturbed the usual harmony of Gotham. And the fact the he was innocently and casually walking around there has nothing to do with it, okay? It was pure coincidence.

It was also a coincidence that the explosion catches him close enough (rather fleeing) to blast him and left him a little -just a little- dazed on the ground, and Red Robin was the one closer to the incident. It had not been so much, seriously, he was already standing and ready to go when Red Robin arrived, but apparently he had his coms on and showing his location next to the explosion -something that nobody can prove, we have a deal, Oracle-, and those seconds of silence afterwards worried his Babybird and made everyone think that he could have dead… Again. Jason could have made a bad joke about that, but he couldn’t because Tim had approached to give him one of the most effusive and desperate kiss nobody had given him in his life.

Obviously, he couldn’t miss that opportunity.

Being close to an explosion or not, nothing nor nobody would have stopped Jason to return that kiss harder and roughly. And then another, and another, and another… They went to the closest safe house in a speed which Barry Allen would be proud of, and they entered the room bumping with everything in his path between deeply kisses and impatient hands tearing up their uniforms.

Even if he should, he didn’t think about rest when he finally was in the mattress sharing passionate kisses with Tim as the younger was rubbing on his thigh and murmured in shivers how jerk he was and how he would bring him back to hell if he dare to die again. And, of course, it was impossible to think this was a dream when the same dark-haired boy pinned him in the bed, caressed tenderly every inch of his body, marked him willingly and then made to him literally the best blowjob ever. Jason could have babbled every compliment he knows in any language, but he couldn’t remember because Tim shut up his brain completely with that mouth.

The kiss that followed that was seductively and satisfying, and Jason couldn’t wait more to grab Tim’s ass -finally- to turn them over and lean over his body to whisper on his ear how much he wanted to fuck him, whose response was a sharped smile and a “Okay. And what are you waiting for? An invitation?”

And why they had taken so long to do this?

Hell, if he’d know.

If he had known how good it would be, how precious it would look Tim in his arms, how nice would be his smell, his body, all beyond fantasy. Each kiss was addicting, and every touch felt right, proper. Their connection was latent and the trust between them plus what they had been repressing flooded them, came to light and drowned them in sensations and joy.

His erection was going to explode at any moment if he keeps going like this, and his fingers moved inside Tim to reach that point that would make him whimper incoherently. And still this wasn’t enough, it wasn’t, because as much Jay can enjoy the view, have one of Gotham’s desirable men melting and begging for his touch, listening to those delicious sounds which dreams couldn’t even match, there was something Jason loved much more about Tim and he was trying to hide.

“Fuck Tim, look at me.” He groaned again, removing his fingers inside of him. He had waited enough. “I need to see you.”

Tim, who was hiding his expression against the pillow until now, turned over when Jason’s fingers left him, and the sound of a condom wrapper broke into the room. He was lucky Jason was putting on the protection because he could have cum at that moment just by seeing Tim’s expression flushed and overwhelmed in heat.

When Jason found himself ready, he placed between Tim’s legs and his breath hitched when the smallest hooked his legs around his hips and clung tightly to push him forward. Jay placed his hands over the other’s shoulders and looked at Tim expectantly, a smile began to form on his lips, but doubts started to lurk in the back of his mind. He was sure that Tim wanted him, but he couldn’t help to make sure that his Babybird knew where he was getting into.

Rolling his eyes and flicking his tongue, Tim wrapped his arms around Jay’s neck to pull him down and bend closer to his face, looking him directly into his eyes.

“Jason, if you don’t fuck me right now as you promised you’d do, I will commit a crime.” Jason wasn’t sure when he promised something like that -probably when Tim was absorbing his soul in that blowjob- but he wouldn’t want to break that promise. “I haven’t spent years dreaming about this moment so that now you doubt.”

Jason let out a sigh and nodded, he will ask about “that years” later. Instead, he took a moment to feel their bodies almost fitting perfectly, how good it was to have that small, warm silhouette against him, clinging him with confidence and in a way that he wasn’t allowed anyone in a long time. Jason looked those baby blue for a second, searching for a hint of doubt, and when he couldn’t find any, just smiled genuinely at the affection and lust reflected there.

One of his hand just caressed gently the scar on his Babybird’s neck, that one which he put there when his mind was broken and full of pain and misdirected anger. And when Jason moved to kiss it, Tim just purred in the touch and a little, a shy smile appeared on his face as he led his fingers through his hair.

“You know, you’re not going to get rid of me now.” Jason breathed against his lips, sinking finally into him and melting in the warmth feeling.

“As if I wanted to.” Tim answered him with a radiant, happy smile, demanding later a deep kiss as he settled into his arms, as if that were the place where he belongs to.

It was the closest to an “I love you”, “I know, me too” they would have at this moment, but it’s enough. They don’t need nothing more, they understand each other, and sometimes their actions talks more than words. And they would need much more than a confused Bat-clan to separate them now, so they have much, much time to say it, to love each other properly.

Luckily, they have time now to left behind dream’s world and start living reality together, which is infinitely better at all levels.

#jaytim #jason todd #tim drake #timjay #myfic #smut #dc #dc comics #red robin #red hood

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vikingpoteto · 4 years

Text

we don’t have to dance (to the beat of their songs)

Chapter 2 on AO3

______________________

Relationships: (Gen) Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Tags: Battle for the Cowl, Alternate Canon, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Neglect, Domestic Fluff, Canon is not valid I am, and I want them to be friends goddamnit

Summary: In the middle of their battle, Jason asks Tim to leave the nest and be his Robin. Tim decides it's not a bad idea, after all. ________________________

When Tim wakes up, he thinks he’s hallucinating. Partly because his almost everything hurts, and whatever else left feels tender and sore. Mostly because he thinks Robin is rescuing him. That can’t be right, though. Dick Grayson hasn’t been Robin — or that small — for many years. Jason Todd certainly hasn’t…

Tim groans. Jason. He was supposed to solve things. He was supposed to fix things up after Jason was gone. Deal with the damage when Jason got back. Give Jason another chance because he knew Robin — his Robin — couldn’t be that bad.

“Come on, you deadweight,” Robin mumbles. “How pathetic can you get? You don’t have any mortal wounds. What are you doing, napping on the dirty ground like that?”

Well, that certainly is not Dick Grayson. First because Dick could never sound that obnoxious. And the small detail that Tim knows Dick is an adult man now.

“Damian…?” he mutters numbly.

“We got ya, mate,” another familiar voice, this one lot friendlier. Squire.

Tim is out again in a matter of seconds, utterly confused about the fact that Squire is there and Damian is dressed as Robin. All he knows is that he failed utterly and completely. He was supposed to fix things, and somehow he made everything worse. Everything that went downhill started with Tim Stupid Drake letting his useless ass get into a mess he was never prepared for. Jack used to tell him to be proud of himself in the same breath he told him his arrogance was unbecoming. Children are supposed to be seen, not heard.

He lets unconsciousness take him. His last thought is that he hopes he doesn’t wake up, so that he doesn’t have to deal with all the consequences of his mistakes.

Then Tim wakes up, because Tim can never get what he wants. At first, he doesn’t remember where he is and why everything hurts so much. Did he oversleep? That would make sense. He found out that, if he went for too long without sleep, by the time he eventually crashed his body would stay unconscious for way too long, and he would wake up all stiff and sore.

With a bit of effort, he starts opening his eyes. The first thing he notices is that he’s at the cave. It wouldn’t be the first time he passed out there, but…

Oh, that’s right. He fought Jason again. He got his ass handed back to him again. He barely remembered what happened; all he knew is that he took a huge risk and it didn’t pay off. Dick must have saved him after all — leaving that note letting him know Tim was going to do something stupid was, in retrospect, actually smart.

He blinks slowly and turns to the side when he hears familiar voices. If Dick is coming to check on him, Tim must make sure to apologize for his recklessness and thank him profusely. He knew there was a huge chance of him being a hindrance rather than useful, but he took the chance anyway.

Instead of Dick, however, it’s Batman who walks into his field of vision. Tim freezes. So he finally accepted it. Dick decided to take the cowl after all. Tim almost smiles in relief — the fact that his jaw is throbbing certainly keeps his expression in check — because that’s a good thing, right? If his mess of a plan resulted in Dick finally stepping up to the task, then it had been worth it.

(Part of him feels a little guilty. Dick repeatedly said that he didn't want to be Batman but... This is fine, right? Dick is the only one who can. The only one good enough. This will be good for him, too… right?)

It doesn’t look like Dick noticed Tim is awake. He walks to the batmobile with practiced fortitude and, for a moment, he looks so much like Bruce that Tim feels a lump in his throat. The fanboy in him also laments that he’s about to miss Dick’s first patrol as Batman — it has to be the first, there’s no way a simple beatdown got Tim asleep for longer than a night — and he considers calling out and asking to tag along anyway, as unlikely as it is that he’ll get an yes.

Then a smaller person stalks into view, and the lump in Tim’s throat positively doubles in size: it’s Robin. Robin, wearing a smaller version of Tim’s uniform. Younger, newer, stronger, better. The arrogance in his posture is familiar, and even if it wasn’t there are very few suspects. Damian Wayne is wearing the Robin uniform. Damian Wayne is getting in the batmobile with Dick Grayson. A new Batman, a new Robin. Tim struggles to sit up, but neither hero notices him. They take off, the sound of the engine revving up drowning Tim’s pathetic attempt at speaking up.

“Master Timothy!”

Strong hands grab him by the shoulders, hauling him up before Tim even realizes he was falling from the cot. He lets Alfred delicately adjust him back into a semi-comfortable position for half a second before he springs back up.

“What — ” he croaks, his voice horribly hoarse from lack of use. “Al…”

“My boy, breathe,” Alfred commands, again holding him still. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

Except nothing is alright. Tim resists and, hurt as he is, he could’ve easily got himself free. Not without hurting Alfred, though, and Tim doesn’t think he could do that even if his life depended on it. Instead, he squirms uselessly until Alfred finally manages to push him back into his pillow.

“Master Timothy, don’t make me tie you to the bed. You know I’m not above it if you’re being unreasonable.”

“Batman and Robin left,” Tim protests, his voice betraying his confusion. It almost sounds as though he’s in fear.

Something flashes across Alfred’s face — worry? — but it vanishes fast enough, giving place to the expression a father wears while gently, but firmly chastising his child.

“If you let me check your vitals, I’ll gladly inform you of what happened while you were unconscious. Do we have a deal? Will you stay put if I let you go?”

Tim slowly nods. Alfred takes a step back. The boy sits up, but he does so carefully. A sign that he’s tired of lying down rather than a rebellion. Alfred accepts that with a satisfied smile before turning to the medical supplies that had been carefully placed by Tim’s cot. Vitals check is a process they’ve done enough times that neither needs to pay full attention to it.

“So?” Tim requests. Demands.

“You’ve been resting for almost 17 hours. You don’t have any serious wounds, so I reckon your prolonged rest was caused by sheer exhaustion rather than actual injuries.” Alfred gives him a pointed look.

Tim ignores it. “What happened to Jason?”

Those words have an effect on the butler, whose shoulders go stiff even if he does his best to hide his discomfort.

“I’m sure Master Dick can tell you in better detail when he returns. The short version is… we don’t know where he is.” At this point, he pauses, as though measuring his words carefully, or as though he doesn’t want to admit what he has to tell Tim next. Tim doesn’t pressure him.“He fought Master Dick and lost. We believe he thought you were gone. Master Damian was able to rescue you, thankfully.”

Tim doesn’t think Jason was stupid enough to think he was dead. Especially because Tim wasn’t even trying to pretend to be dead. He could’ve. Bruce had taught him how. It didn’t even occur to him to do so, because, despite everything, it was Jason. Jason was a Robin. He was angry, sure, and Tim didn’t fully blame him. Not after he heard Bruce’s testament.

However, for once, Jason isn’t Tim’s main concern.

“Damian didn’t rescue me,” he says. “Robin did.”

Alfred pretends the task of making sure Tim doesn’t have a concussion is a lot more demanding than it really is. He’s clearly avoiding the accusation in Tim’s voice.

“Seems like you’re all good, my boy. Your head is more resistant than it seems, it looks like. I should warn you that one of your teeth has been broken, though.”

“Alfred…”

The butler sighs. “It’s not my place to tell you about Master Dick’s decisions, Master Timothy,” he says and Tim’s stomach sinks. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you once he returns.”

Except it is Alfred’s place. It is exactly his place, his right. Tim never quite understood why Alfred chooses to stand on the sidelines. Alfred knows damn well he isn’t simply an employee, he’s family. His snide remarks and gentle chastising are one thing, but, when push comes to shove, Alfred tends to only offer advice when asked for. He lets them sort themselves out. If he wanted, he could do more, get the others to do more, or at least Tim is almost sure of it. Could it be that he got tired of being ignored by Bruce by the time the kids joined the crusade? Does it have anything to do with Jason’s death, like most of the problems in the family seem to revolve around?

At another time, Tim would’ve asked. As it is now, there is something gnawing at Tim’s gut, a feeling of inadequacy he hadn’t felt in quite a few years. When was the last time? When he was just starting as Robin? When Jason first tried to kill him? It was a swarm of butterflies in his stomach, and not the good kind, that started bugging him when Damian appeared but it didn’t bloom into an all out ache until tonight.

Tim felt the urge to go home as though he was overstaying his welcome in a stranger’s house, but his ride was late and there was nothing he could do about it. As though he was a meddling boy forcing himself into the life of a grieving man against his will. As though he had to work twice as hard, be three times as useful to make up for the fact that he was an unwanted appendix.

He doesn’t say anything else until Alfred clears him. He takes the pain medicine the butler gives him, even though he didn’t need them. He can barely feel the soreness of his body by now.

The next hours are a blur. Tim knows he takes off the rest of the uniform. He has half a mind to cringe at how painful it must have been to Alfred to treat him while he’s wearing Batman’s colors. He changes into his own clothes before going upstairs.

His room at Wayne manor doesn’t look like anything like his former room. His space used to be sacred, papers scared around among piles of dirty clothing and old comics. Some of the contents were incriminating, notes of cases Tim had no business meddling in, but it didn’t matter because uncaring maids wouldn’t bother reading and neither would his parents. The only things Tim bothered hiding were the pictures he took of Batman and Robin, because those were not his secrets to be reckless with.

Looking around at the room he’s occupying, there’s no mess on the floor. No dirty laundry in sight. His photography gear is neatly put away on a shelf — when was the last time he took pictures just for fun? — and his school books are lined up for easy access. Even the pile of papers on the desk were organized in a chaotic way. It looks less like a room where you live in and more like a guest room. Like when you’re staying over at a friend’s house and you’re overzealous of your belongings to make sure your presence is not a hassle.

He thinks of his room back at Titans Tower. He had no secrets there, no worries about hiding documents or anything of the sort. Even when his teammates didn’t know his real name, they knew him. He was Robin and that was enough. Being Robin was enough.

(Except Young Justice is no more and Tim doesn’t think they can get back together. Not with Kon and Bart gone.)

Tim wonders if that means he always knew he wasn’t meant to stay. Then he shakes his head. This is his family. It isn’t that different from when he lived with his father, after all, the only difference is that then there were less people minding his secrets, so he didn’t have to be as careful. He is Tim Wayne now. This is all he has.

He does have it, right?

Dick said they’d be okay. Dick was the first person to fully accept him. Maybe it had started out of misplaced love, a way to compensate that he hadn’t been there for Jason, but Tim accepted what he could get and Dick had been his brother since.

Tim stays in his room for too long, but it feels like no time has passed when he hears the telltale noise of the grandfather clock moving downstairs. Someone is leaving the cave.

The boy hesitates, thinking himself selfish for a moment. A voice in his mind that sounds painfully like Kon’s tells him to stop being stupid. Tim reminds himself that this is his home, this is his family… This is his life . It’s not perfect, but you only work with what you get.

It’s not surprising to him that Dick’s at the computer when he gets into the cave. Bruce drilled into their heads that you always write a report as soon as you’re able. Unless you’re injured, reporting after patrol takes priority over everything. Even Tim and Barbara, known for their photographic memory, weren’t exempt of that rule.

It’s not surprising.

Then why is Tim so angry? Dick doesn’t owe him anything. Surely Alfred told him Tim was fine. Checking on him was unnecessary and.. and it was what Dick would’ve done a couple of months ago.

“Hey,” Tim calls and it sounds harsher than he meant.

Dick startles before turning around. It’s somehow unsettling to see the man in the Bat cowl show such a human emotion and that somehow makes Tim angrier.

“Tim,” Dick starts, the shadow of a smile on his lips. “Alfred said…”

“You gave my old uniform to Damian,” Tim cuts him off.

This is not what he planned. He was supposed to ask Dick for an explanation calmly. There’s now another voice in his mind — should he be worried about those? — and this one sounds like Janet Drake’s telling him that it’s unbecoming to bark like that. He should keep his emotions in check. And yet.

“You said we’d be okay,” he grits out. “My entire life has burnt down. Again. I don’t call this okay, Dick. ”

And this is Dick’s problem, how? Tim wonders. His mind’s Kon tells him that Dick is his brother. His mind’s Jack Drake tells him real men don’t whine like that.

Dick sighs. “He’s my responsibility now. You’re not my protege, Tim, you’re my equal. My closest ally. You’ll be okay. But him? You know better than anyone that left on his own, he’s going to kill again. You have to understand…”

“I don’t,” Tim cuts him off again, unusually impatient. This isn’t selfish, right? This is his. He knows it, because other than the mission... “This is all I have now.”

“Oh,” another voice joins them, “you’re still here?”

You’ve got to be kidding.

Tim turns around and sees red. There’s the demon child in Tim’s colors spewing crap about upgrading security to keep out outsiders. Tim knows he says something, but he doesn’t remember what (he hopes he didn’t reveal anything he didn’t want Dick to know) and he tries to leave. (He can’t bear to see that.) Damian keeps running his mouth. (Tim already knows he doesn’t belong, maybe a part of him always knew). Dick doesn’t intervene.

Not until Tim is trying to knock a tooth out of the brat’s gargantuan mouth.

The message is clear: Tim served his purpose. He isn’t a priority anymore.

When he storms off, there are no more meddling voices in his mind but his own. He can tell Dick is calling his name and he remembers a time in which he thought he was temporary. At first he had asked Dick to come back, only taking the mantle of Robin when Dick told him to. Tim accepted it, deciding he would be Robin for as long as Batman needed him and retire as soon as someone more fit of the mantle arrived.

This has always been the plan. It’s no one’s fault but Tim’s that he had forgotten it. That he allowed a temporary arrangement to take over his life - to the point where, not that the time is up, he’s left on his own. That the rightful owner took back a mantle Tim had borrowed.

Tim used to be alone all the time. This isn’t uncharted territory.

#red robin #tim drake #nighwting #dick grayson #batfam #damian wayne #robin #poteto writing #batfam fanfic #we don't have to dance

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squishneedsahero · 3 years

Text

Family First

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 10 of 13

Word Count: 1963

Batman x Batmom!Reader

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

You leaned against Bruce's chest as he sat at the desk in the Bat-Cave working on the the computer on who knows what, at this point it was easier to not ask unless it seemed to be upsetting him. You weren't paying any attention to what he was doing, you were busy trying to come up with the plan as to how you would be able to get to know Damian since he seemed to try and avoid you every way he could. He had been down here helping Bruce until you came down then he suddenly had to go upstairs for some unknown reason and hadn't come back. As you sit in his lap you tilt your head so that you can look at his face.

You just sit there taking in all his features like you hadn't already see his face a million times. Eventually he pauses long enough to look down at you a soft smile on his lips. You smile back and sit up just enough to cup his cheek and give him a kiss. "What's going on with you my love?" he asks.

"What do you mean? Am I not allowed to hang out with you?"

"Thats not what I meant," he presses kiss to your forehead, "you're being unusually quiet for yourself. Is there something on your mind you'd like to talk about?"

"Mmm," you hum and sit up to face him, one leg on either side of his body, "actually there is." You have a serious look come onto your face, "Damian is definitely your child. He is so so so stubborn," you say kissing him with every 'so' with a short laugh as you finish.

"Is there a reason thats bothering you?"

"Yes. He is so stubborn that the only way I know would work for me to get through to him is by arguing with him, like I did when a certain someone tried to break up with me," you say with a pointed look at him while wrapping an arm over his shoulders and pulling yourself closer to him.

"You really meant it when you said that you wouldn't be letting that go anytime soon, huh? How many years have we been married now?"

You smirk at him and say, "only six, and you should have known I keep my promises," you kiss him again. "The reason it's bothering me though is because I don't want to argue with him and make feel like I'm going to treat him how he was while he was with the league."

"Well, my dear," he began as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you tighter against him, "I don't think you, or anything you do could be ever confused for anything similar to what the league does or treated him," a kiss on your lips. "But I understand your worry, i warned you it'll take him some time to get adjusted-"

"I know, I know, but don't you dare tell me to be patient. I've been with you this long after all, I know it takes patience but you saw him leave the room as soon as he saw me. If he doesn't give me even the chance I can't use patience to help him on his way," you state simply.

"Do you have any ideas for how you'd like to try and fix that? I can tell you've been think about it a lot," as he says this one of his hands travels up your back, and he begins to gently trace your spine with his fingers, while his other arm remains where it is to keep you close to him.

"Actually, I do, pause for effect," you say out loud, "how do you feel about taking a break from this for about a week?" You ask tilting your head back just enough to gesture towards what he'd been working on before.

"I guess things are slow enough right now and the GCPD seems to have it covered it wouldn't be that big of a deal, why?"

"Well, I figured if we went on a vacation to a cabin in the woods it would be harder for him to hide from me. Especially if we get the other kids to come and we have family time, at your request," you say giving him a look, "at least tell Damian that it's something you want because we both know he wouldn't listen if it was me asking."

"Very well, y/n my love, that sounds like something we could manage to work out," he gives you one more kiss before returning to work as you settle in his lap gain.

A little over a week later you were holding your husband's hand as you, him and your three boys and three girls took a walkthrough the forrest, as the sun was beginning to set.

"You ever wonder," you muse, "if theres a reason people began telling those creepy stories about the woods? Because with everything else life has thrown at us I personally would not be surprised is there was an axe murdering ghost with a hook for a hand that haunted these woods and took it out on couples because his girl friend dumped him and he died from a being a little bitch who can't take no for an answer."

"Tt."

"I thought we were trying to have a nice quiet vacation mom, without axe murderer ghosts," Dick cuts in with a laugh.

"We are, but I'm a writer who's family is always in danger and you're expecting me to not think about the possibility of.m being killed by ghosts?" You retort to your eldest son.

"Is this going to be one of those mom lessons?" Dick sighs as he tilts his head back like a little kid.

You laugh, "sure, since you seem so excited about the idea of ghosts being one of those mom lessons." You pause a moment and think, looking at Bruce who had his arm around you, "what's that thing you always say? About the no surprises?"

"If you're prepared no situation will surprise you when it arrises," Bruce finishes the statement for you.

"Alright, so that. You need to be prepared so axe murdering ghosts don't kill you." Another pause, "it might just be a dumb thought but if I know all of you, and I do, my guess is all of you have thought of at least one way to try and take down a ghost if one suddenly appeared."

You raise an eyebrow and look at each of your kids, adopted or not, as though challenging them to tell you their thoughts on the matter. But before any of them can answer you turn to Damian, "what about you Damian? I'm sure with your many talents you'd be able to easily take down a ghost. How would you do it?"

"Tt," he sounds off but stays quiet, you watch him and you can see in the way he purses his lips and scrunches his eyebrows a little that he's thinking. He's so much like Bruce, if he wasn't then you'd have no idea how to read him. You want so badly to give him a hug, as you see nothing but a little Bruce in front of you, but know that isn't his thing so you keep your distance.

Finally he comes up with his answer to your question, "there are plenty of couples here so I wouldn't have to worry about the ghost coming after me, so I would just have to leave and the ghost would go after one of you fools."

You smile and laugh gently, "That works, I'd be more than happy to distract the ghost so each of you can get away safely."

He gives you a suspicious look, as if he thought you would leave him for dead. But you move on, asking Tim how he would fight a ghost and letting Damian think what he wants too about your answer.

It's almost midnight and you're sitting on the deck of the cabin you had rented sipping some hot chocolate and reading a book. The kids were playing video games together inside and Bruce had fallen asleep on the other half of the oversized chair you were on and was leaning across your lap as one of your hands absentmindedly ran through his hair.

When you hear the cabin door open and close quietly behind you glance up from your book to see Damian coming outside. He has a stoic look on his face and he takes a place in the seat across from you. You give him a soft smile and resume reading your book.

"Tt."

You look up again and he's just watching you, you smile reassuringly at him.

After another few minutes, you hear him ask quietly, "Why would you say that earlier? You would clearly be killed by the ghost and stand the least chance of surviving."

You stick a finger in your book to mark your place and look up at him. Theres a soft look on your facd as you look at him to answer his question. "Damian, that's what a mother does. Even if she knows she won't survive she will do anything to protect her family," you say without a single hesitation.

"Mother said you were only here because of father's money. But earlier you said you'd sacrifice yourself for us to get away, even me."

You raise an eyebrow slightly and smile gently at him, "I did say that Damian, and I meant every word of it, it doesn't matter to me if we are blood or not. The moment you decided you were staying with your father, you became my son too and that means I'm going to do whatever I can to keep you safe."

He nods slightly and leans back in his seat and looks away from you. You think the conversation is over until he speaks again, "y/n, why would you do that?"

"Any mother's child should come first it is as simple as that," you say and he nods once more before standing and going back inside.

As soon as he's gone a huge smile breaks across your face, that was the longest conversation you'd had with him and your week long vacation was almost up. You had been beginning to worry that you plan wasn't going to work but now you felt your heart swell with even more love for the small boy.

You move to pick your book back up but you're interrupted by a kiss on your neck, which was the only spot Bruce could conveniently reach without moving from his comfortable position.

"You heard that didn't you?" you say more than ask.

"Yes, and it seems like your patience is beginning to work," he says a soft smile on his lips and you can't help but give him a peck on the forehead.

When you all arrive home from your vacation Damian is no longer intentionally avoiding you. He doesn't speak to you still but he at least stays in the same room as you. It's not much but its a step in the right direction.

While you had been on your way home the evening before there had been some odd reports coming in from around Gotham. There was another Vigilante in town, but this one was different from your husband, they killed to reach their goal. The GCPD had given him the nick name of Redhood, seeing as he was only ever seen with a red helmet on that covered his face. And Bruce was determined to find out why he was killing everyone who got in his way so needlessly not caring how many fatalities there were.

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