#i saw a post where damian was calling him a bad boy and it made me giggle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uncouth-the-fifth · 3 years

Note

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

#damian wayne smut #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne x you #robin smut #robin #dc smut #dc comics #dc #user uncouth

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soulmate-game · 3 years

Text

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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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

Text

A Blinded Kiss

I haven’t posted anything recently so I dug around in my WIPs to see if anything was even worth posting and I found this that I made a while ago. It certainly isn’t the best but it isn’t the worst out of all my other WIPs.

"Is this really necessary?" The bluenette asked, eyeing a blindfold given by her brotherly figure.

"Of course it is Pixie!" An older man with two-toned hair replied, way too over enthusiastic about the whole situation. "It's a great way to find your way around the manor”

"And it's a great family bonding experience too!" Another man in the room replied, even more enthusiastic than the first.

"Fine, I'll do it Jay" the blue-eyed girl huffed, twirling the blindfold between her fingers. "What are the rules again, Dick?"

Dick beamed at the girl before answering. "Well Mari, it's simple. Put the blindfold on, count to fifty, spin around and try to steal a hug from anyone in the manor"

"So I have to walk around the manor blindfolded and try to sneak up on you? You know that's impossible!" Marinette exclaimed, she would not go around the house looking like a touch-starved fool.

"That's exactly why we're doing it" Jason replied, shrugging his shoulders. "It'll last a long time."

After a few seconds, the blue-eyed girl sighed, giving in to both Jason and Dick. "Fine, if that's what makes you happy" Marinette wrapped the matte-black fabric tightly around her eyes, already struggling within the first few seconds. She began counting and she heard the two scuffling away, smiling while being able to tell which direction they went in. In the mean time, Marinette debated her options.

'Both Jason and Dick would be the ideal choices but they'll be able to hear me from a mile away. Tim would be the most logical one since he's half asleep, but where does he even go in this maze? God knows where Alfred is, Mr Wayne is scary. Damian-' She paused her train of thoughts, granted Marinette had only met him a few days ago but that didn't stop the crush she had heavily try to cease. 'He'd probably hear me from a mile away as well. This game is so unfair'

Soon enough, Marinette reached fifty and spun herself around, she used a bit too much force than needed so now not only was she blinded but she lost her sense of direction. Giving herself a minute to recover, the bluenette began to walk. Using her improved senses, thanks to the miraculous, Mari was slowly able to create a theoretical map in her mind, though it did take much more energy than she desired.

"Fighting an akuma is easier than this" The bluenette muttered as she hit her thigh along the corner of a wall.

Even though she was using her enhanced abilities, she'd pump into a corner or a wall every now and again, the amount of times increased when her energy was being used. After wondering a hall for what seemed like hours, the bluenette came to a staircase, one that she ever so carefully used to get to a higher floor. Once she did, she kept a hand on one of the walls, using it as a guide. Soon enough, her hand came to what felt like a doorframe. The door was closed she could tell but it was recent used due to the fact that the doorknob was warm. Making sure not to intrude, she knocked on said door, she almost missed the muffled 'come in' had she not been paying attention. Marinette opened the door, went in and quickly shut it behind her, taking a deep breath.

"Okay I hope you don't mind but which room is this and whose in the room? Dick and Jason thought it would be a good idea to walk around the manor blindfolded while trying to sneak up on them" The bluenette huffed, only to freeze when she heard a familiar chuckle.

"I've heard, you're in my room, It's Damian just to clarify" 'Sh-' "So, what task must be fulfilled to give you permission to take the blindfold off? I doubt you want to keep it on any longer" Marinette giggled.

"You're right, I would probably get lost of I continue. Um, I have to 'steal a hug' apparently"

"So you have to hug someone without them inspecting it" Damian came to that conclusion to which the bluenette nodded her head.

"Yeah that's basically it, hey do you have anywhere I could sit down? I'm getting tired..."

"Of course, my bed is five steps to your front and two steps to your right, make yourself comfortable" She wasn't sure how red she had gotten but she obliged anyway. Had she not been wearing the blindfold, she would've seen Damian smiling at her flustered state. Giving herself a moment to regain her energy, Marinette turned to where she presumed Damian was working at his desk. "Can I hug you? Jay never said I couldn't ask the person first. I-I won't if you don't want me to! I just wanted to ask so..."

She heard the boy thoughtfully hum before he made his way over to her. From what she could tell, Damian was now in front of Marinette, looming over her.

"Did Todd or Grayson say it had to be a hug?" Marinette tilted her head in confusion and thoughtfulness, that had never crossed her mind before.

"W-"

"What happens if I kiss you instead?"

The bluenette didn’t reply with words as she knew how terrible her words would be in her flustered state. But she wanted this, her heart longed for it in a way it never did for anyone else. Instead, she nodded, giving the green-eyed boy permission to do as he wished.

She felt his hand lightly tilt her chin up towards, where she presumed, his face was. Then he pressed his lips onto hers, his other had behind her head, tugging at the fabric around her eyes. Marinette felt bliss, she was glad that no one else would interrupt this moment. Shivers went down her spine as she felt Damian’s hands travel up from behind her neck and to wear the blindfold was knotted, gently tugging at the binding. She was glad that when her face was free from the fabric that comprised her vision, the first thing in her line of eyesight were Damian's deep emerald eyes, the shimmered the same way they had when she first laid eyes on him, she'd been enraptured ever since. The boy, however, was smirking as he noticed the pink that dusted her face. Without a moment passing, she threw herself the green-eyed boy, delivering a hug. As she pulled away, her hands cupped his face and she returned his embrace with one of her own. When she pulled away once more, she smiled in satisfaction at his flustered expression.

"When did you realise you had feelings for me?" Marinette asked softly, her forehead pressed against his trying to regain her breath.

"That's a very easy question" Damian stared lovingly into her eyes. "I fell the moment I saw you take down that Akuma three times your size" Her eyes widened.

"You know about me being Ladybug?"

"The same way you know I'm Robin"

They both smiled, creating a truce to not reveal anything.

"Well I better get going, see you later." She got up from the bed and opened the door, only to turn around and say "Je t'aime mon cœur" before exiting the room, leaving a blushing Damian.

Marinette walked back down the stairs, the piece of cloth in hand and small love-struck smile on her face. When she entered the main living room, she came face to face with the owner of the manor.

"Oh hello Mr Wayne"

"Hello Marinette, I see you managed to get the blindfold off" The older man gestured towards the piece of fabric in her hand. "And please, do call me Bruce. Who did you end up surprising with a hug then?"

She smiled brightly before replying. "Damian"

His usual formal demeanor broke for a moment but Bruce quickly picked the pieces back up. "He didn't attack you or injure you in any shape or form?"

Marinette decided to play the oblivious little girl. "No..? Why, does he do it often?" Her head titled in confusion.

"Nothing it doesn't matter" Bruce simply sighed and shook his head. "Also, there's something I'd like to discuss with you at dinner, if you don't mind"

"No not at all, I'll see you at dinner then?" Bruce nodded and left, leaving Marinette alone in the room, waiting for her honorary older brother and his brother to come in. Which they did but only after some time, it was hilarious to see them crouched down, talking to each other in hushed voices. They flinched as she cleared her throat, both slowly turning towards the sound to find a smug looking Marinette and a blindfold whipped around her finger.

"I win"

~~~

Most of the occupants at the table were either in an all out war or were about to be, except for Marinette and an exasperated Bruce Wayne.

"So Marinette" The eldest Wayne began, silencing the rest of the table. "I hope you don't mind me asking but when you were off searching for Jason, you mentioned attacks that have been occurring in Paris, is this true?"

No one failed to notice the girl flinch. "Yeah it's true"

"...how bad are the attacks? In your opinion"

"Well it depends on how strong the person's emotions are really. If their emotions are strong, then the Akuma is strong too"

"What's the strongest akuma that Paris has seen?" It was Tim who asked and memories of the event began swimming through her mind, she got rid of them with a shake of her head.

"The deadliest akuma Paris has experienced was an akuma called 'Syren'. She's a regular person but, as an akuma, she managed to kill around 2 million people. But don't worry! Ladybug's cure managed to bring them back to life"

"D-did... did you die, Pixie?" Jason asked, his anger mixed with worry was boiling over and luckily simmered after seeing her shake her head.

"Do you think the heroes of Paris would let heroes from the Justice League come over to help?"

Marinette contemplated for a moment, should she really risk the heroes getting akumatized? "I think they would but I wouldn't know"

Bruce nodded while Jason leaned over the table to talk closer to his honorary little-sister. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to bother you"

"You're not a bother, Pixie" Jason smiled at the bluenette on the other side of the table. "You never are and you never will be"

~~~

Marinette returned to Paris a few days later, in the mean time, Bruce and the rest of the batfam were planning their visit to the City of Love. Soon enough, the vigilantes were boarded on the plane. Their flight to Paris was relatively silent. After a few hours, they landed and the vigilantes waited on the Eiffel Tower, only to find out there was a battle going on. Before they could engage in the fight, they were engulfed with magical ladybugs that seemed to fix anything destroyed. As they were mesmerized by the cure, a certain spotted-heroine wobbly landed on the platform. Batman was first to notice.

"Ladybug" His voice caused the others to turn around. "Thank you for allowing us into your city"

Ladybug nodded, not uttering a single word.

"We were hoping, with your permission of course, that we could help you be rid of Hawkmoth once and for good" Again, Ladybug didn't reply. "Ladybug?"

When the heroine didn't respond, Batman glanced at Nightwing and the rest of his sons, clearly something was wrong. Unexpectedly, Robin took his glove off, approached the Ladybug-themed hero and placed his hand onto her forehead.

"You have a fever" he stated, his hand trailing down her face to cup her cheek. His family all shot him weird looks. She tiredly blinked at the vigilante, recognising him as Robin and allowed herself to fall into his arms, detransforming while doing so, leaving a burning hot Marinette.

"Dami?" He hummed. "Take me home, please..." She drifted off to sleep, comforted in her lover's arms. He glanced at his family, holding the bluenette close.

"Pixie...is Ladybug?" Red Hood's voice was first.

"You didn't know?" Robin's voice mocking confusion, enraging Red Hood that his youngest brother knew something about his sister that he didn't. Even more so that his demon brother was holding said sister,

"We should take her back home" Dick went over to feel the girl's forehead. "She's burning"

"Tikki?" Robin asked and a red creature flew out from one of Mari's pockets, startling most of the people there.

"I'll try to heal her on the way, follow me"

The floating red creature flew down from the Eiffel Tower, Robin and Marinette close behind. After some hesitation, the others followed, they ended up on top of a bakery. One by one, they entered through the trapdoor on the balcony, finding both Damian with his mask off and a weak looking Marinette. Despite her enfeebled state, the bluenette greeted each vigilante, her gaze landed on Jason.

"It's just a fever, I'll be fine"

Jason removed his helmet and ran a hand through his hair before both settled on his hips. "You don't look fine"

"I promise I am" She wasn't convincing, not at all.

"Fine" Jason huffed, he could never truly say no to the girl he viewed as his little sister. "But since when were you two a thing" He pointed at the two, his gaze resting maliciously on Damian.

"It's all thanks to you, you know" Marinette smirked at Jason's confusion. Tim snickered as he seemed to catch on to what she was saying.

"Had you not organized that 'blindfolded game', I doubt we would be together at this moment" Damian supplied the information, clearly unfazed by the burning rage in the eyes of his older brother.

"Baby Bird's all grown up" The eldest Wayne son overdramatized wiping a fake tear, Batman sighed at his two eldest sons while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Get your fucking hands off her, Demon Brat!" Jason tried to lunge at Damian, only to be stopped by both Dick and Tim. Though his fury only grew when Marinette snuggled closer to the green-eyed boy, both smirked in victory over Jason's horrified appearance.

Marinette was now part of the family in more ways than one. Though they wish they had found out in better circumstances, they would be able to take down Hawkmoth once and for all, side by side, all together. And to think this all happened because of a silly blindfold game.

#daminette #damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #ml x dc #big brother jason #this is eh I guess

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stxleslyds · 3 years

Text

ROBIN #5 BUT IT’S JUST ME TALKING ABOUT JASON.

Hey, how are you guys doing? I wasn’t going to review this issue and I won’t because this isn’t really a review, this is just me talking about Jason’s involvement in this story.

I mentioned in a previous reblog (as well as in a old post) that I am not a fan of Joshua Williamson’s way of writing Jason. I think that he, like Lobdell, thinks of Jason in a way that doesn’t really match Jason’s origin (UtRH, Lost Days) or his current stories (RHatO, RHO, and other brief appearances), I think that Williamson is writing this sort of mesh between fanon Jason and a self-indulgent Jason that results in a very... bland and kinda repetitive version of Jason.

I have also talked about my dislike of his writing from a “romance” perspective. I absolutely didn’t like how he wrote the supposed “relationship” that Jason had with Rose in Future State: Red Hood. It honestly left a very nasty taste in my mouth after I read those issues and I just didn’t see their chemistry, to be honest, while I was reading those issues I felt like Williamson was writing an “unrequited love” thing between both of them (Jason being in love and Rose not at all).

That is of course my opinion. I know that many people like this relationship and I respect that but just as a heads up, I am not a fan of Jason being involved in any sort of romantic relationship with anyone. It’s just something that I would rather not see in a Red Hood story and that’s just the way I see it (once again, you are welcome to think otherwise).

Now, after I have said all that (which I believe is necessary because I like to tell you guys my general stances on Jason related stuff), I can begin my “review” of Jason’s appearances in this issue.

Let’s begin!

Rose calling Jason to tell him about Damian.

Yeah, I find this weird. Since when are Jason and Rose talking? Here is where I am lost because I think that I am missing some information.

This Jason right here is supposed to be the Jason that was at the end of Urban Legends #6, right? The last time that I remember Jason interaction with Rose was back in RHatO vol.1 #40, I know that Rose had a “relationship” with Jason in DCeased and in Future State (Red Hood and Gotham) but here is the thing, DCeased is a story that doesn’t belong to this or any continuities so it doesn’t count and Future State is set in the future, and a future that might never happen at that. So, where is this “Jason and Rose being in contact” thing coming from? If anyone knows, please let me know.

Anyway, I just think that Rose contacting Dick would have made more sense but I guess I am missing some context here but hey, I am here to also learn.

The other thing I would like to talk about these panels is Jason not wanting Damian to be involved in a dangerous “death tournament”. Oh, well colour me not surprised at all by that fact, than you so much.

Who would have thought that Jason would have a problem with a child being involved in a dangerous situation (me, that’s who), I guess that this is confirmation of DC not reading their own material because in one book Jason’s helping a kid “kill” the Joker and here Jason is like “WHY DID YOU JOIN A DEATH TOURNAMENT DAMIAN!?” (did ya put your name in the goblet of fire?!?! said Dumbledore calmly). I guess this Omniverse thing that DC has going on is helpful when you want to blame inconsistencies on something other than poor management on DC’s part.

I just think that it’s funny. And also right on the line of OOC and in character for Jason, because I can actually see Jason being worried if a kid is joining that sort of thing, but I also don’t see Jason caring much about what Damian does or doesn’t.

“If I can come home, so can you”

Good lord, I am not having a good time. I hate this. If this is your first time coming across one of my post, Hi! My name is Tati and I absolutely hate the fact that the fanon concept of “Batfamily” is being integrated in actual comics canon.

This is so bad, what the hell is Jason saying? This man knows nothing about Damian’s situation, why would Jason not think that Damian has his own reasons not to go back “home”???

And what the HELL is Jason calling “home”, is he calling Batman or the Batfamily “home”??? Child, are you on crack? Honest question, because Bruce has done nothing for you, he has done awful things to you and he really doesn’t like you.

Let’s be honest for a second, Bruce hates what Jason has become ever since he came back from the dead, Bruce hates the fact that Jason has a different way of seeing things. He only tolerates Jason when he can molde him the way that he wants.

I mean, what the hell is this, why would Jason, after the events of Batman and Robin (2011) #20, RHatO (2016) #25 and even Urban Legends #6, want to go back to Bruce or any of his bullshit? Why? How many times does DC have to prove itself that Jason and Bruce don’t work well together anymore? How long until they realise that Jason doesn’t fit in their Bat-narrative?

I am so tired of this, I swear, when will this end?

Jason and Damian have a chat.

I don’t mean to be repetitive but, what the hell is this?

First of all, here we are again with writers wanting to encapsulate every Robin’s whole being in one word, don’t they get tired of being this basic? Dick is experienced, Tim is smart... how dull do you have to be? I this was your attempt at having Damian waste time then you could have had him say something more creative.

“You are the most emotional”, what does that mean? I mean, i guess it’s true but how is that relevant here, or why would that catch Jason off guard? Is it because fanon Jason is the epitome of “bad boy with a heart of gold” or...?

Also, Jason returning the hug after such a wild conversation has me wondering what the hell is going on, weren’t these two fighting the last time they saw each other? Why didn’t Jason realise that Damian hugging him is off?

Jason is a dumbass.

Well, he isn’t, Jason Nation knows that but he has been written as if he were a dumbass. How did Jason not see that Damian had ulterior motives when he “hugged” him? Jason, my love, you guys fought the last time you saw each other and because the Omniverse is a thing, you also tried to kill Damian...

Why wouldn’t you think that Damian going for a hug was actually a trap? Are you being written as an unintelligent human being again to make another character look good when you are easily defeated? Is that it?

Yeah, that’s it.

I don’t know what else I can say about this panel, like come on, give Jason a little credit, we swear he is smart DC!

Don’t try to play games with Dick, Jason.

Dick was having none of it! What was he thinking? Jason got his ass tasered and now he is like “Dick why would you let Damian play games with you?”. Why do people write Jason this way? Why is he the dumbass/comic relief nowadays? Is this why he was dragged back to the Bat? So he can be the dumb one with snarky remarks?

How boring.

Listen, I think that this issue was good when it came to Dick and Damian’s moments, they are the ones that have more history together, they respect and love each other enormously. Their interaction were really good, very enjoyable. My problem with this issue was obviously Jason’s presence and the part that they let him play. After reading this, I know that I was right when I thought that Jason shouldn’t have been put here. It doesn’t make sense and it does nothing for Jason’s characterization.

So yeah, those are my thoughts on this, as always, you are welcome to think differently!

#jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #red hood #nightwing #robin #robin 5 #tuesday spoilers #dc comics

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oreo-bixch · 3 years

Text

I need to air out my brain so have some of my

Timkon headcanons

Kon developed a crush first. He really tried not to, but just couldn't stop himself. It was out of his control, completely smitten before he could register it

Tim just thought of them as close friends. Ironic how he's so smart and yet so oblivious to his own feelings. It wasn't until Kon came out as bi that he took a step back and realized that it was strange just how happy he was to know Kon wasn't straight.

If it were Bart coming out he'd be like "hey, nice bro" but when Kon did it he found himself thinking "omg omg omg he likes guys?? He likes guys??? Omg I'm a guy, that means he could like me. Omg wow that's so wild wow...now wait a damn minute-"

It was about 3 months of mutual pining until they finally confessed

Altho they definitely told Cassie

Poor Cassie was itching to just tell them already but she swore she wouldn't, and she's a very reliable person, would literally take a secret to the grave. She spent 3 months sitting back watching Tim and Kon pine after each other while knowing how they felt. It was torture

Meanwhile Bart was oblivious lmao

Bart's a great friend but he's not so good with secrets. He's got a little problem where he speaks before he thinks

Finally Kon made the first move...well kinda

He was sooo ready to just tell Tim in person, and then he settled on maybe a phone call, actually no, a text might work better...or maybe he'll just wait another week

And so he decided to have Cassie do it for him, what can I say, our boy Kon is afraid of rejection

It's bad enough Clark didn't wanna be his dad, what if Tim didn't wanna be his bf? That'd be harsh

And so Cassie called Tim up one evening and spilled the beans, which was a huge relief for her, and Tim was pleasantly surprised

He was also freaking out

He didn't know what to do, he wanted to call Kon immediately and tell him that he felt the same way, that he wanted to be more than friends, to be boyfriends. But then he collected himself, decided he wanted to tell him in person. Someone's gotta put on the brave face

So he texted Kon, asked if he was free to hang out at the Manor, talk abt a little something that Cassie brought up.

Kon was so nervous but he agreed and the next day he went over to the Manor.

Usually Conner was really chill with the Batfam, the Manor was practically a second home, but this time he was hella awkward. Mans was nervous

But they sat down in Tim's bed and talked. They talked abt everything, how long they've felt that way, how much they've been wanting to tell each other, when they first knew, I mean everything.

Kon asked what this meant, what this made them? And Tim said whatever he wanted

Kon had come out just 3 months prior to this and in a way, this was Tim's coming out. It was all so new for them, and it was nerve-wracking and exciting and crazy. But they were ready, and so they decided they would be boyfriends

Idk I guess that's how it works but anyway

Cassie was sooo happy for them and could finally spill all the beans

"omg FINALLY!! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD IT WAS TO KEEP QUIET ABT IT ALL"

And then Bart's just there like

"wait, Cassie knew? You told Cassie but not me??" >:/

Either way their friends were super happy for them

Tim told the Batfam abt a week later and everyone was super supportive and sweet about it. The Batfam actually likes Conner so they were excited for them

Alfred saw it coming a mile away, but he's happy for Tim since Conner's a good kid. A little obnoxious but they're a good fit

Dick was so happy for them, he likes all of Tim's friends and he knew for a while that they were a little closer than most. He accepted Conner into the family with open arms bc he's the best, like what do you expect

Jason was like "damn, didn't know u were bi. Cool tho, have fun dating ur annoying ass friend"

That's the extent of Jason's brotherly love

Damian was similar in that sense, he blatantly told Tim to his face that "Kent could do better but I suppose that's great news for you"

Bruce was happy asf for his son, being bi himself he was really supportive and proud of him. Plus Conner wasn't all that bad, yea he knocked over that expensive vase that one time and he's always yelling during sleepovers and he nearly ran over their cat that other time but hey, he's a good kid.

Babs and Cass and Duke were all happy for Tim too, Steph found out a few months later just bc her and Tim are exes. Not that there's bad blood between them, things just get a little awkward sometimes.

Kon didn't tell his family until about 2 months into their relationship. Except for Jon, he found out the same week but was sworn to secrecy.

Kon was really nervous to come out and tell his family bc he didn't know how Clark or Lex would react. He wasn't too worried abt Lois, he knew she would be supportive. But Clark and him were constantly at each other's throats and Lex wasn't all that good at listening or connecting to Kon.

Despite his daddy issues tho, both dads were really accepting of Kon and we're happy for him and Tim. Clark gave Kon the biggest hug and assured him that no matter how much they fought, he'd always be there for him. Lex also, surprisingly, hugged Conner and told him that who he loved didn't matter to him.

Kon and Tim's favorite date spot is this humble little coffee shop on a corner in Metropolis. Tim can feed his caffeine addiction and Kon can stuff his face on their freshly baked pastries

Altho Lex really wanted some of those WayneTech secrets

And yea those are my hcs on how it all started :)

I'll make another post for my other hcs since this one is long enough

#mine #my hcs #hc #headcanon #dc #dcu #dc hc #young justice #young justice 2019 #timkon #tim drake #conner kent #kon el kent #kon el #ship headcanons #timkon hc #superboy #red robin

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go.

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you.

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome.

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily.

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did.

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame.

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later.

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

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catxsnow · 4 years

Text

LET’S HAVE A BABY B.W.

Request: hi idk if ur requests are open but i saw ur post for bruce wayne! can you do a bruce wayne x reader where they take young damian to a school fair or event and they get to watch him be a kid and then bruce is like "fuck it let's have another kid" and it's all fluff and lovey idk it just seems so sweet ily.

Warning: fluff

A/N: This was just... the cutest fucking request... Thank you for sending it in I loved writing it

GIF not mine

Word count: 1.9k

Damian Wayne might not have been the best at people skills, but he sure as hell was one amazing soccer player. After you and Bruce had him enrolled in school, you thought it was a good idea for him to join a sports team as well. He was already so athletically built, it made sense for him to do something fun with it.

So, as much as he grumbled about having to join a stupid team to waste his time and lessen his activities as Robin, he found himself enjoying the sport. It was a good way for him to let out his frustration without someone getting maimed or injured (mostly). And even though he didn't like his teammates that much, he tolerated them enough that he could learn from them.

It was great to see him enjoy himself so much. Ever since he arrived at your home, you didn't see him have fun very often. He was always a serious boy and as much as you tried to make him feel welcomed, he was always so cold. Attending his soccer games would at least show him some support - he appreciated it even if he didn't show it.

It took a long time for Damian to finally warm up to you. Once he did though, there was no stopping his unconditional love for you. If anyone dared to insult you, or the press put a bad word towards you, he was there to make sure that they knew that they were wrong. He wanted everyone to think of you highly.

You and Bruce had gotten married not long after he told you that he was Batman. He knew that he didn't want to spend his life with anyone else other than you. You supported him in his decisions, cared for him when he needed you the most, and no matter what the city of Gotham or his own friends thought of him, you were there with him threw it all.

Bruce wasn't perfect, you knew this. He had made lots of mistakes in his life but if there was one thing that you admired most about him, it was that he always was ready to learn from them. Bruce was the love of your life and no matter the kind of mistakes he made, you loved all of his flaws.

On Saturday morning, you, Bruce, and Damian were all loaded up in one of your many cars to take him to his soccer game. While Damian sat quietly in the back, you could tell that he was buzzing with excitement. You never expected him to enjoy the sport so much, but you were glad that he did.

Bruce kept one hand on the wheel and reached over to intertwine you fingers with the other. He brought your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. After years of being together, he still craved to touch you in any way possible. In public, he was always grasping your hand or you would have your arm looped around his.

Never in your life would you have thought that the great Batman would have such a need to be close to the one he loved. You guessed that he had already had so many close calls with the people he cared about that he wasn't willing to risk you getting close to the same fate. Bruce loved you more than he had ever loved before.

You were the person that drove him to be better. You were the reason that he got up in the morning. You were the reason that he pushed himself so hard to keep this city safe.

As soon as the car was parked, Damian leaped out of it with his duffel bag over his shoulder and was already running towards the field. You couldn't help but giggle at his excitement.

"Did you ever think Damian would get so excited about something so... normal when he arrived to the Manor?" You asked Bruce as the two of you got out of the car. It was a beautiful sunny day out and you couldn't be more happy to be outside to enjoy it.

"Not even close," Bruce shook his head. He grasped your hand once more as the two of you walked over to the bleachers set up for all the other parents. "I think you changed him a lot. He's so much more easy going then he once was. He looks up to you in ways that he'll never look up to me."

"Guess that's the motherly instincts inside me," you beamed up at him. Bruce stopped walking to kiss you. The eyes of all the other parents were gazing at you and those of them that weren't, certainly were now. As much as you loved Bruce Wayne, you didn't love his publicity and fame. "Everyone's watching us."

"Good," Bruce smirked. He was never shy when it came to showing his love towards you. After being the billionaire playboy for so long, he was used to having people stare at him with girls on his arm. Now, he had his beautiful wife and the only person that he ever truly fell in love with to show off.

"Come on, my love," you tugged on his hand before he could make even more of a scene. The two of you sat right at the front and away from anyone else. Sunglasses rested over your eyes from the glare of the hot sun. "I sometimes miss being so normal like this," you admitted to him.

The life you lived before meeting Bruce was a humble one. He was never used to wondering if bills could be paid that month or having to take the bus to work. Living a life of lavish made you forget your roots sometimes. Being able to sit on the uncomfortable metal bleachers with all these other parents made you remember what it used to be like.

"You're free to leave me any day," Bruce joked. You smacked his chest lightly. He knew that there wasn't a chance that you would ever leave him. You loved him too much to even consider it.

The whistle from the ref blew and the game started. Damian was on the field, his jersey tucked into his shorts and his socks so high they nearly covered his knees. He looked like a regular kid out there. It was a small bit of life that you wished for him. The concentration on his face and the hint of a smile on his lips told you and Bruce that he was enjoying himself.

"We should take him out for ice cream after, it's hot out today," you offered. Gotham city was never kind with its weather, the days that it was truly nice out were the days that you would never be caught inside. Even when Bruce refused to leave his cave and enjoy the son.

"You mean, you want to go get ice cream later," Bruce raised an eyebrow at you. He knew you too well. You shrugged, pretending like you had no idea what he was talking about. Bruce only rolled his eyes at you, but agreed. "We can go, only if Damian wants to." You pouted at his response.

If there was one thing that Bruce Wayne couldn't resist, it was your pout. The second that your bottom lip stuck out, he swooped down to kiss you. "Fine, we'll go either way," he changed his mind. You grinned at him.

Bruce's eyes darted over to the field. Damian had gotten the ball and was darting down the field all while managing to dodge all the defense. He had been bumped up a league when he tried out for the team, it wasn't fair to the other kids with his skills. Even now, he was managing to dodge and weave with all kinds of miraculous tricks that he had never learned during practice.

Damian had passed all the defense and was closing in on the goalie. He was incredible, it was like nothing could stop him. Even the goalie looked nervous as he approached. With a final move, Damian kicked the soccer ball right in the net with it just barely missing the mitts of the goalie.

"Whoo!" You stood up and cheered, unable to contain yourself. "Go Damian! That's my son!" The words passed your lips before you could stop them. Damian wasn't your son, he never referred to you as his mother and you never called him your son before. Damian had a mother, even if she was a terrible one.

You expected Damian to look over at you with a scowl on his lips at your cheer. However, when he locked eyes on you, with his father looking up at you with pride, he couldn't help but beam a smile at you.

Damian ran back to his team, accepting the hi-gives that they were giving him. You might not have been his mother, but hearing you say that he was showed how much you cared about him. It didn't matter if you weren't related by blood, you cared more about him than his real mother did.

You sat back down in your seat with a sheepish look on your face. Bruce grabbed your hand once more, this time playing with your wedding ring. He was just as surprised as you were to call Damian your own child. It had a nice sound to it though, one that he could get used to hearing.

"I'm sorry," You mumbled.

"For what?" Bruce furrowed his eyebrows at your sudden apology.

"Damian isn't my son. Thalia is his mother, I know that," You sighed. Bruce threw his arm around you shoulder and kissed the top of your head. There was no reason for you to feel bad about this. Damian was obviously pleased by your affection, you had nothing to worry about. Yet, you did.

"Let's have our own baby," Bruce suddenly stated. He had adopted so many kids that he always just assumed that you were content with the family you had been given. However, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how much he would love to have a little kid with both your genes in their veins.

"What?" You asked, shocked by his offer. He never spoke of wanting his own kid to raise. Damian was unexpected, he didn't even know about him for over a decade. You always assumed Bruce was just too busy to have an infant to take care of as well.

"Let's have a baby," Bruce said once more. The biggest smile that he had ever seen lit up your face. Your hands grasped the side of his face and you pulled him in for a kiss, not caring that everyone was watching you once more. "I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Bruce," You grinned. The idea of having your own child with him excited you more than anything else. Taking care of Dick and the others was always something that you loved, but it wasn't the same as having your own child. You never got to see them born or their first steps.

There was no one else in the world that you wanted to have a kid with. Bruce was the love of your life, with his flaws, his crazy life, everything.

"Let's get started on that tonight."

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne x batmom #batmom #batmom imagines #batmom!reader #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam one shot #damian wayne #dc imagine #dc one shot #dc #fluff

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redhoodieone · 3 years

Text

Welcome Home

A/N: Hi everyone! This is an old fic that I’m re-posting for those who want to read it. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language and Smut.

I knew my family was different the moment I found out my adoptive father was Batman. I was just a ten-year-old girl when I snuck down the stairs at midnight for a drink of water and spotted Batman leaving a trail of blood from his study and calling out for Alfred for help. The moment our eyes locked, Bruce instantly knew that I was clearly aware of his secret. He had also confessed it was him who saved me from a shootout that my parents were involved in and that it was him, as Batman. I felt I owed Bruce my own life for saving me, and I vowed to keep my father’s secret and pray that he would return home safely every night back to me.

It didn’t help that I soon discovered my adoptive older brother Dick Grayson was Robin. Not only did I have to keep his secret as well, but it made it more impossible to not have a crush on him. I mean, Dick has such a charming personality, beautiful baby blue eyes, and a devilish smile that can make any girl crawl on her hands and knees. And that ass…

I later found myself becoming the second Robin once Dick left to assume his own identity, Nightwing. Bruce trusted me, and he saw potential in me the second I told him I couldn’t see myself being a hero forever. Perhaps he never really wanted me to be his sidekick and figured if I got it out of my system that I could resume my life as a sixteen-year-old and do normal teenager activities. As if my life was normal anyways.

But things changed as soon as I was finally embracing myself as a hero. Bruce had taken in a new kid, Jason Todd. He was a troublemaker, a rebel, and a mysterious kid, who had never even spoken to me unless he had to. I don’t think my age helped the situation either; I was a couple of years older than him and he may not have seen me as an equal. But of course, the dark haired, icy blue eyed, bad attitude boy was given the Robin title, and I was removed because of a patrol-gone-wrong situation.

Stupid Harley Quinn and her baseball bat. Who knew one hit to my knee could bench me for two months (Alfred added an additional five months of rest).

Then the unthinkable happened. The second Robin was killed by the Joker. Jason Todd’s death put Bruce into a depression, and he swore he would never put another kid’s life in danger. Our father and daughter relationship broke apart before my very eyes. I spent my remaining teenage years in the mansion isolated, except for Alfred’s loving company.

I had graduated high school on time and I quickly decided to go to Gotham University to escape the Bat family. Before I moved out, I discovered Bruce had taken in another kid, Tim Drake, who was currently the new Robin. Was I hurt? Of course, I felt I was somehow replaced. Would I miss the Bat family? Maybe. Maybe not.

I did in fact wish the new younger Robin good luck. When Tim looked up at me, his light blue eyes were so innocent and frightened about me leaving him behind. I didn’t know why he would be so upset about me leaving; wouldn’t he want all of Bruce’s attention without me hanging around the mansion?

Now I’m twenty-one-years-old, and I’m still a student at Gotham University. Alfred had just called and informed me Bruce wants me back home.

As I sit in a taxi while anxiously waiting to pull up to Wayne Manor, I honestly don’t know why Bruce wants me back at home. Alfred has kept me up to date about the Bat family incidents and activities I have missed out those few years such as:

Dick Grayson becoming a womanizer (I saw it coming) and how he’s juggling working as a police officer and Nightwing. He’s still the favorite and golden child in Bruce’s eyes.

Jason Todd is back from the dead, and he’s currently operating his own team: Red Hood and the Outlaws (who knew he was leadership material underneath that thick skull of his?).

Tim Drake is Red Robin (does the fast food chain restaurant know about his superhero name?), and he’s currently assisting the Teen Titans when necessary while simultaneously aiding Bruce with detective work.

Damian Wayne is Bruce Wayne’s unknown biological child. I think he’s about fifteen-years-old now; from what I remember the last time I spoke to Alfred. I met Damian once, when Bruce asked me to meet him once Talia al Ghul practically dropped him off at Bruce’s doorstep. The boy was a little shit: bratty, stuck up, and insensitive. Even though he is the spitting image of Bruce, minus the different colored eyes (Bruce has blue and Damian’s are green), Damian claims he is set to take over the cowl when Bruce is either dead or done. God help us all…

But I still can’t figure out why I am needed back home. Is Alfred sick? Is Bruce dying after fighting all these years? Is it one of my brothers?

I jump in surprise once the taxi comes to a hard stop. After paying the man, I grab my duffel bag and I climb the front steps that I suddenly remember jumping off them as a kid. Alfred scolded me many times, and I still did it because being bad was fun.

I scoff loudly, and I jump down the five steps that would have given Alfred a heart attack. Maybe I haven’t changed as much as I thought.

I find the wooden front door unlocked, which is odd considering Alfred always makes sure to lock it. As a matter of fact, Alfred hasn’t greeted me like he always does when I come home. Where is Alfred?

After I unwrap my scarf, I pull my hoodie over my head to be more comfortable in the warm house. Sadly, I forgot to do laundry yesterday, so I came home in just my black yoga pants and red tank top. What would Alfred say?

I kick off my shoes and walk to the kitchen barefoot. Pulling my long hair into a ponytail, I notice a note on the counter that’s written for me. I unfold the note and stare at the nicest, well done cursive handwriting only one man can do here.

Dear Lady Y/N,

I sincerely apologize for not being there to greet you properly. Master Bruce had wanted me to take my holiday to London early, and Lord knows I can use a week to myself after stitching up countless wounds, tidying up bedrooms and Bat caves, and playing messenger between you and your father. I have a cooked roast with garlic mash potatoes in the refrigerator if you are hungry. Do heat it up and perhaps show your father and brothers how to use the microwave.

I dearly love you and the boys,

Love Alfred Pennyworth

P.S.

Look into the highest cabinet above the refrigerator, and you will discover a jar of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies just for you.

I grin widely, and before I can turn around and find the cookies, I’m stuck between the counter and a tall, hard body behind me. I freeze.

“Welcome home, Y/N. I missed you so much,” Bruce whispers in my ear. I can feel his hot breath above my shoulder and neck. The familiar smell of his expensive cologne fills my nostrils. His large hands rub my legs and grip onto my hips very hard. “Did you miss me?”

“H-hi dad. W-what are you doing?” I ask softly, but I know it came out like a whisper. One of his hands is holding my waist, while the other caresses my abdomen. It feels strange considering Bruce is supposed to be my father, and we shouldn’t be this close or even touching each other. But a part of me wants to keep feeling his hands on me and see what he does next.

“Holding you. Smelling you. Touching you,” he answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He breathes harder when I press my backside against his front by accident. “It appears you want this too. Am I correct, Y/N?”

His hand pulls down my yoga pants enough, so he can reach into my underwear. Bruce continues to breathe hard from his nose when his fingers find my core. His thumb rubs fast circles on my clit, while he pushes two fingers inside me. I bite my bottom lip to stop a loud moan from coming out of me, but he appears he’ll have none of that. He stops fingering me.

“You better be loud, or I won’t let you cum, Y/N.”

Before I can beg him to keep going, he turns my face, so I can look him in those cold, pale blue eyes. “Please tell me you’re…not a virgin.” Bruce’s face is twisted in pleasure from just fingering me, but I can tell his lips are trembling and there’s a soft but pleading look in his eyes. This must hurt him as much as it’s hurting me.

“I-I’m not,” I confess, and wonder if he would change his mind if I said I was.

“Who was it with?” Bruce demands. He kisses along my shoulder to my neck before he bites on my soft spot. I hiss in pain and I grind into him again.

“Josh Mitchell. I was sixteen,” I answer harshly.

“Was he any good?”

Before I can answer, Bruce shoves the front of my body onto the counter, while he pulls down my yoga pants. My adrenaline is rushing, and I can feel myself wetting the counter from just his roughness. I can feel him unzip his pants and I can already imagine this thick, hard cock fucking me into oblivion.

“No, no he wasn’t good at all!” I cry out.

“Good, I’m actually relieved to hear that,” Bruce says, as he starts to stroke himself. “Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”

I want to turn around and watch him jack off. Hearing him pleasure himself isn’t enough. Bruce then jams two fingers back into my pussy and I whimper loudly. It has been too long since I’ve been intimate with a man. I need his cock now!

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Do I need to remind you who you are supposed to answer to?” he says seriously before adding a third finger inside me. I grip the counter and I breathe harder. I find myself rubbing my pussy on the edge of the smooth countertop for more friction, but he grabs my hips and stops me. “Now, do you want me to fuck you, Y/N, or should I leave you here, so you can dry hump the countertop alone?”

I growl louder, while my nails scratch the counter top. “YES! Yes, I want you to fuck me, Dad!”

As soon as those words left my mouth, I immediately wonder if I killed the mood. Why would I call him ‘dad’ when we’re about to have hot, rough sex in the kitchen? I need to apologize. I push myself up on my elbows and I shift my head to the side to apologize. I open my mouth to speak but stop when Bruce’s eyes darkened, and he growls as he slams his thick cock inside me.

I moan louder than I have in my entire life. His cock fills me up so much that I fear I won’t be able to walk straight for the next week or two. Bruce lifts my legs up and continues to shove me against the counter with every hard thrust. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck me. The man is practically drilling into me with no kindness at all.

“Oh fuck! You’re so fucking tight. So wet and so hot,” Bruce groans out. With each thrust, I can feel he wants to let go and fuck me like he owns me.

“Go ahead, Dad. Fuck me. Fuck me like I’m yours and only yours,” I tempt him playfully.

Bruce growls and rams his cock faster into me. He keeps knocking the air out from my lungs, and I can feel my body pulsating against his. I grip the countertop harder each time, and I know my knuckles are turning white and becoming numb every second. With one hand on my hips, Bruce moves his other hand up my tank top to hold my tits.

“No bra? You’re a bad girl,” Bruce says in between panting.

“I forgot to do laundry,” I choke out.

“Excuses,” he manages to say, as he holds me up more, so he can penetrate me deeper. His cock is hitting a deeper spot in me. It must be my g-spot, because I have read about it but never actually felt it to know. I can feel myself clenching his dick tightly, and I know I’m getting closer to release. “You wanted me and your brothers to see your tits, huh?”

“Maybe,” I cry out louder than what I intended to. Fuck, what if one of my brothers hears me? They’ll really think I’m insane for fucking our father and for loving it every second. Bruce readjusts our position once more, so he can hit that spot continuously. “I-I think I’m going to cum!”

“Not yet, you better not!” Bruce growls, and drills into me harder and faster. With his powerful thrusts and the constant friction from the countertop on my clit, I know for a fact that I can’t last longer. His hands hold onto my hips while he fucks me harder than before.

I become a moaning mess. I can feel my mouth drop open because I feel liquid coming out from my core. Did I just squirt? What the hell is happening to me?

The sounds of skin on skin is louder because of my mess. I drop my head onto the counter while Bruce continues to fuck me. Before I can catch my breath, Bruce chuckles and lifts me up. “I just made you squirt. That has never happened before, has it?”

“No, that was my first time,” I answer breathlessly. He kisses my neck.

“You’re so wet,” Bruce grunts into my ear. Breathing heavily, he lifts my hips again, so he can rub my clit with his fingers. “You’re making a mess all over my cock. You’re such a bad girl.”

“I’m your bad girl,” I moan out, as I can feel another orgasm threatening to take over my body.

“Fuck yes, you are!” Bruce groans, and continues to shove his cock into my soaking wet pussy.

With every rough thrust, I know Bruce won’t last. I whimper once more when my pussy clenches his dick as he fucks me through my orgasm. A few more hard thrusts, Bruce pulls out and turns me over onto my back. He jacks himself off as I watch his cum spurt out all over my stomach.

Just seeing his hard, veiny thick cock before me turns me on once more. I lick my lips at how the tip of his dick glistens with his cum.

Bruce sighs heavily, and just when I think I should try to get up and clean myself, he pulls me up and kisses me. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, and we explore each other’s mouths as if this was our last chance to. He pulls away from me and rests his forehead against mine.

“You’re mine, Y/N. You belong to me, and the Batfamily. I don’t care who wants you, because you will never give them what you have given me. Do you understand?” Bruce asks, before giving me his famous bat glare.

“I understand, and I promise,” I swear before he kisses me once more.

“Good, now go wash up,” Bruce instructs before he helps me off the counter.

I grab a paper towel and wipe Bruce’s cum off my stomach before I pull up my yoga pants. As soon as I toss the damped paper towel into the trash, I immediately notice Dick Grayson is standing there at the entrance of the kitchen staring at me with fire in his eyes.

#dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne x y/n smut #bruce wayne smut #batman smut

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ur-favorite-queer-queen · 3 years

Text

Story

For Maribat March day 24 theme story

Master List

“You know I remember the day I first saw him. My baby brother.” Marinette announced as all the Batkids formed a circle around her, like they were all students listening to their teacher read a story. Only this wasn’t an ordinary story she was telling, “Mom and Dad came home from the hospital holding a tiny human. I was 7 at the time, yet even after all these years I still remember.”

“Was baby Bruce cute?” Steph asked.

“He was the cutest little thing. His eyes were so innocent and curious, and blue, very blue. And when he grabbed my finger he didn’t let go until it was time for my mom to feed him. But baby Bruce was also boring, he did the traditional baby things like cry, poop his diaper, cry, eat baby food, and cry. But you wanna know what wasn’t boring, toddler Bruce.” All the Batkids subconsciously leaned in closer, eager to hear what embarrassing things Bruce did as a kid. “You know, my parents gave us nicknames when we were both toddlers, they called me butterfly, and him rhino.”

“Why?” Tim blurted out, he didn’t get enough sleep to stop himself.

“They said that when I was younger, I would float around like a butterfly, floating with the wind. But when my brother was younger he headbutted into everything, it was like his only solution to his problems. I’m surprised he didn’t get brain damage or something, hence the nickname rhino. I was their little butterfly and he was their little rhino. Those were good times.”

“Wait, but you said that you went to school in Paris, right? So what happened there?” Babs interjected, curiosity written all over her face.

“Don’t worry Babs, I’m getting there. Soon Bruce was no longer a toddler but a little kid. Now I know he doesn’t remember this, but when it was his first day of kindergarten, he was 5 I was 12, and I went with our mom to pick him up. He was holding hands with this girl, she was adorable, had her hair in pigtails and everything, ran up to me and said ‘Nettie Nettie! This is Josie and she’s my best friend!’ It was the cutest thing, it was only his first day of school and he had a best friend. We won’t talk about her parents or the fact that she moved the following year, but it was so cute in the moment. He had another friend, Logan, for a few years but he moved away too. I’m glad he moved away, he was such a bad influence on Bruce.” Her eyes landed on Cass who was trying to grab her attention.

“Why was this Logan a bad influence?” Cass signed.

“Think of Logan as that one kid who always got detention, skipped class, didn’t do the work, talked back to the teacher, and always got his parents called in, but in the body and energy of a 9 to 14 boy. I mean, when they were in the 8th grade he tried to get Bruce to smoke. Pretty sure he was sent to military school or something. Good riddance.”

Damian scoffed, “You still haven’t answered the question of how you ended up in Paris.”

“Oh I haven’t! Dang it I was rambling again. So when I was 12 our parents decided it would be a good idea to send me to an art school in Paris, since I was and am very into designing and our parents wanted to get me out of Gotham. They were going to do the same with Bruce but…” She trailed off and for the first time since they had met her she seemed to close in on herself as a few tears trickled down her cheek, “They would’ve loved you guys, if they got to meet you. I wasn’t there when it happened so I’m nowhere near as traumatized as Bruce but it still hurt.” She brought her sleeve up and wiped the tears off her face.

Dick got up from his spot and hugged Marinette, Cass went over and did the same.

“Thank you guys, man that was such a downer. Here I thought I would be telling you happy, silly stories about Bruce and now I’m crying.”

Dick and Cass took a step back to give her more room and Cass signed, “You might not have been there, but they were your parents too.”

“Thank you Cass, now who wants to hear about how Bruce tried to impress a girl for the first and last time?”

“Hell Y-” Jason was interrupted by Bruce’s voice.

“Marinette?”

She whirled around and at the doorway stood Bruce, he probably just got home from work.

“Baby Bro! You’re finally home!” She ran over and picked him up in a hug. All the kids' jaws were on the ground, this woman who was a head shorter than Bruce was able to pick him up without any problems.

“Marinette you can put me down, we’re getting too old for this.” Bruce tried to say with the little dignity he had left.

“I’ll never be too old to carry you!” Marinette stated, grinning from ear to ear.

“Wait so are you gonna tell us about how Bruce tried to impress that one girl?” Duke innocently asked.

“Oh yeah,” She ran back over to them, “Her name was Finely and-”

“Don’t tell them about that!” Bruce yelled at her.

“Why not?” Marinette challenged.

“Marinette-”

“No, don’t Marinette me! I refuse to let Kate be a cooler aunt than me! I mean I helped train you for goodness sake!”

“Wait, you helped train him?” Damian questioned.

“Well yeah-”

“I wanna hear that story!” Tim shouted, seeming to not be as sleep deprived as he once was mere minutes ago.

“Wait no! I wanna hear about how B embarrassed himself in front of Finley!” Jason shouted back.

Soon all the batkids had taken sides on which stories they wanted to hear first and then it was war. Marinette and Bruce watched from the sidelines, one amused, one annoyed.

“Now look at what you’ve done.” Bruce stated, annoyance and tiredness clear in his voice.

“Hey I was just trying to give them a good story. They’re your kids so you get the joy of reining them in,” She checked the time on her phone, “Yikes that late already huh. Bye kiddos see you tomorrow!”

Although none of them heard her over their screams and battle cries. It wasn’t until a full hour later when Babs finally pointed out she was gone.

“Where’d she go?” Steph asked.

“Miss Marinette left quite a while ago, Miss Steph,” Alfred answered, appearing out of nowhere as always, “Now I believe it is time for dinner.”

All the batkids made their way to the dining room, frowns on their faces. When Bruce finally sighed, “She’ll be back tomorrow.” Against his better judgement.

Marinette only brought chaos with her and left a mess behind in her wake. But in the end she was his sister, one of the only things still standing despite how much his life tried to knock her down, it’d be wrong to ask her not to come back. So with a sigh he sent the text he knew she was waiting for. ‘Your welcome back tomorrow.’

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Look who’s back from the dead! School killed me but I am back. I think what I’m gonna do is post 2 things for Maribat March despite it no longer being March every time I come back. So day 18 was where we had Little Sis Marinette, now we have Big Sis Marinette. I have not given up on Maribat March, life simply got busy. Hope everyone enjoyed this!

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #maribatmarch2021 #maribat march #story #big sis marinette #little brother bruce

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srose-foxfire · 3 years

Text

“First Impressions” Part: 6 (Finale) Damirae Pic

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

A/N: Hello Everyone. We finally made it to the finale of “First Impressions” I wanna thank you all for being with me and following along with this fic. This started out as a one-shot but after writing part 1; I couldn’t just stay there and decided to make it into a longer fic. I hoped you enjoy it thus far. This part in particular is longer than the other parts.

I would also like to take the time and wishing Happy Birthday / Belated Birthday to @ravenfan1242 . I wanna personally say thank you so much for all the support you give to artists and writers, like myself in the Damirae community. You may not know this, but you were my very fist commenter on my very first Damirae fic I had written when I first joined tumblr. Your words cheered me right up and gave me the confidence I needed to continue writing. I hope you enjoy this small gift from me. Thank you.

Without further ado, enjoy the story!

~ Simona R.

-- -- --

Part: 6

Where in his right mind did Damian think this was a good idea? He stood in front of his bathroom mirror and looked at the ‘work of art’ his sisters and Raven had done on him. Layers of foundation, contour, and highlight were plastered all over his face. His eyes were covered in a golden-brown eyeshadow, the girls then added some golden shimmer over it. Cass went ahead and nearly poked his eyes out when she used a liquid eyeliner to create a cat-eye look over his eyes. Stephanie was adding a light peach blush onto Damian’s cheeks. As for Raven who looked like she was actually enjoying torturing him, finished his ‘look’ with a dark purple matte liquid lipstick.

When he saw Cass grabbing her phone, Damian made a run for the door and dashed towards his bedroom. Damian touched his cheek, debating the choices he made that ended him looking like this. He turned on the faucet with warm running water and soaked a hand towel in it. Damian then started scrubbing his face clean; he looked hideous. The make-up wasn’t coming off easily and instead was smudging across his face, why did girls enjoy this, Damian had to wonder. He felt dirty and his face felt thick and tight from all the stuff that was plaster onto his face. Damian turned the water off and threw the hand towel in the sink. Lost in thought. He could had just said no, but he didn’t.

-- -- --

A few minutes earlier Damian had stood outside of Cass’s room when Raven entered to confess, she made up Jasper Sky. One may call him a stalker for leaning against the doorway, but Damian was there for Raven’s sake. He had promised to be there in case the confession had gone bad. Cass’s bedroom became extremely quiet, Damian couldn’t make out words anymore. He concentrated and heard a soft cry. Panicked and worry made him throw the door open to find his sisters hugging Raven, while Raven cried happily in their arms.

His sisters shocked at his outburst both cursed and questioned him what he was doing. Damian shot a quick glance towards Raven who was starting to flush. His sisters didn’t know the promise he had made to Raven. In order to save them both from being interrogated by his sisters, Damian had to come up with a quick plan. The first and only thing that popped in Damian’s mind was “I would like to try that make-over!”

-- -- --

Damian exited his bathroom and tirelessly fell onto his bed. He looked up to the ceiling and watch his ceiling fan just spun. At some point the girls would need to eat, Damian thought. Which would give him a chance to sneak into Cass’s room and take some facial cleansing wipes to clean his face. He should had been more patient and waited for Raven to come out, but the thought of her crying only terrified him greatly. He never wanted to see her cry or be scared, but even he could never stop that. But Damian hope he could be the one to bring Raven comfort, if she allowed him.

Damian’s thoughts were interrupted when someone was heard knocking onto his bedroom door. He turned his head towards the sound and contemplated if he should even open it. If it was one of his older brothers and found him in the state he was in, they would make Damian the laughing stalk of his family till he died. Though Damian rather die if it turned out either his father or Alfred ever saw him in his ridiculous state. How did the heir to Wayne Enterprises come to this? The knocking continued as Damian thought of the last person he would want to see. Cass. Damian knew very well, out of all his siblings, Cass has the largest following in her social media. What if she was trying to take a picture and post it to the whole world?! Worse she was actually coming to get him and drag him back to her room so they could add more cosmetics?

Please no more. What more could they possible add? The door was now being banged and each knocked sounded more frantic than the next. Damian groined into his hands, got up and walked towards his door. “Damn it Cass, enough is enough. I am not going back out there.”

“Actually, it’s me Damian.”Upon hearing her voice, Damian immediately unlocked his door and opened to find Raven holding some facial wipes and a few bottles, which he presumed to be used to remove cosmetics. “I brought some stuff to help clean your face.” She said softly.

Damian lifted a brow and then peek through the doorway before retuning his gaze to her. “It’s just you right? The she-devils aren’t near?”

“She-devils? Your sisters? Damian that’s mean and no they’re busy applying each other a facial mask.”

“Come in.”

Very timidly Raven walked into his room as Damian closed the door behind him. Damian continued to study her as she carefully walked like a frightened doe. What was she so afraid of him? Did she think he be upset with her over the make-over? Then he came to a realization, this was the first time Raven had entered his room. Every time she came over to the manor, the only places he would find her was in Cass’s room, the manor’s library, and the kitchen. Damian had never once invited her to his room.

As Damian continue to think of what he could say to comfort Raven in this most awkward situation, Raven had cleared her throat. “Where would you like to sit?” She asked very shyly.

Damian looked around his room and wished his desk had two chairs instead of one. He walked past her and sat down on the thick carpet, reclining against his bed. Raven followed him and bended down to her knees, she carefully placed the box of facial wipes in front of her and laid a few bottles next to them. She pulled out a wipe and carefully started rubbing his left cheek.

At first Damian tried keeping his gaze towards the carpet floor and count each thread. But his will betray him, he would catch himself side-glancing towards Raven as she carefully continues to clean his face. Afraid he would be caught; Damian closed his eyes and focused on how soft she was being with him. It felt like a massage and the tense knots he had in his face loosened under her touch. Damian leaned his head back against his bed and let out a deep sigh.

“So, my sisters forgave you, correct?”

“They did. Is as you said, they don’t hold grudges though they wanted a complete explanation on why I had to come up with Jasper Sky.”

“Like what?”

“Well I told them something specifically, and with that they backed down.” Raven carefully rubbed his brows clean. The room then became quiet and the only sound heard was the rubbing on his skin.

“I’m sorry.” Raven said in the most-lowest voice possible. “You’re like this because of me and… sigh… I’m sorry.”

Raven pulled away as she threw some used wipes into one pile. Damian looked at her and noticed how some of her lashes had grouped together due to her crying earlier. Remembering how thathad made him feel. Damian looked down at her hands and without even noticing with himself wrapped his hand around hers making Raven look up into his eyes.

“Don’t be.” Damian said as he pulled Raven’s hand closer to his chest. “You have nothing to apologize for, I put myself in this situation and… I would do it again to make sure you’re alright.”

Raven looked shocked at his words. She was right to be. Though now that he revealed this to her, Damian need to tell her more and come clean of his own feelings. He took a deep breath and allowed his heart to speak, “Raven, I have fallen in love with you. My heart beats every-time I am with you, my day lights up at the mention of your name. You are the most unique and most beautiful girl I have ever met. You view the world with a sense of wonder and I would like to see it through your eyes. I-”

Damian stopped when he saw Raven’s eyes watered. What had he done? This was too much and too soon for her. He sighed, “just forget I said anything-”

Raven slammed her lips onto his, she cupped his face between her palms. She was actually squishing his face, but Damian didn’t feel any pain or didn’t knowhow to react since his brain decided not to function anymore. The poor boy was left in shock, Raven then released his face and slowly pulled away. Hiding her palms between her thighs. Her face was ridiculous flushed, but she was so beautiful, and Damian couldn’t help but stare. “I fallen in love with you too, Damian. I…I love you.”

Damian gave her a warm smile, he touched her cheek and pulled her onto his lap. Once she was settled, Raven wrapped one arm around his neck while the other stroke his check. The two youth continue to smile before both of them leaned into each other for another kiss. This kiss was slow almost as if though this kiss alone they could tell each other their true feelings and leaving themselves open to one another. They pulled and just looked at each other for what felt like an eternity.

Raven giggled in his arms as she wrapped both arms around his neck, “I actually had a crush on you since before we met.” Damian raised a brow at her as he waited for her to continue, “Your family would tell me stories about you and well I couldn’t wait to me the Damian Wayne.”

“Well lucky for me, I just hope I didn’t raise any concerns after my first impression.”

“Actually, after calming down the whole incident made you look hot. I found out just how much your father’s books meant to you and the lengths you would go to protect the people you loved. Only made the crush I had on you grow.”

Damian only smiled at her and gave her a quick peck on her temple, Raven sighed and rested her head against his chest. “Is there a way for you to sneak away from my sisters tomorrow? I would like to take you out on an official date.”

“I will let them know I won’t be available for a few hours but I’m sure they will be okay with it… they did give me their blessing to date you.”

Before Damian had a chance to ask her what she meant by that, his bedroom door was blasted open, with all his siblings coming through popping confetti poppers and Cass holding up her phone snapping a picture of them, “Damn right you have our blessing Rae, whoo welcome to the family, sister!”

#damirae #damiraefic #Damian Wayne #raven roth #raven and damian #dc damian #dc raven #first impressions #DC Universe #dc fanfic

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janedoe-eyes · 3 years

Text

Neighbors in a Mask

This is my Secret Santa gift for @theatreandcomicfreak - I hope you like it! I had the help of a wonderful Beta who made this infinitely better😂. Merry Christmas! @maribat-secret-santa-2020 - I’m also posting it on ao3 😁

“Ok - ok, you can do this! This is just a friendly introduction, what could go wrong? New town, new place, new start.” A wet nose nudged her hand in agreement with her little self-pep talk, and she smiled at her furry companion. Marinette squared her shoulders and knocked on the apartment marked ‘655’, the mantra ‘new town, new place, new start’ ran on repeat in the back of her mind. She fidgeted listening for signs of life on the other end of the door.

She jumped when the door suddenly and silently opened to reveal a man her age - half-dressed, extremely attractive, and wearing the least welcoming glower she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“I… uh… next door… chest moved in… shirtless - I mean!” She sputtered, face resembling a tomato and she barely managed to grab the plate of macaroons she’d lost her hold on while she flailed. Holy hell, I haven’t sputtered this much since…

That thought sobered her right up, and she shook her head to clear the nervous clutter. She took a big breath and started again.

“Sorry - I just moved in next door,” she jerked a thumb to her left, indicating the other condo in the pair. “I wanted to bring these over and introduce myself - I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and this is my dog Squishy.” She gestured to the cream-colored Pit Bull, and he glanced down for a half a moment. “I just moved here from Paris! I’m a fashion designer and novice gardener-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do,” He cut her off with an exasperated sigh. “I am not interested in whatever you are selling - whether it is a product, business deal, or yourself.” Her jaw dropped. “I do not socialize beyond what is forced upon me by my family - so you have wasted your time. Good day.” He nodded stiffly at her and shut the door.

What the fu…

She stared at the same spot on the forest green door until Squishy whined and nudged her hand. She looked to see the dog leaning on her leg and slowly wagging her tail.

“Squish… did you hear him say what I think he said?” She asked, looking at the door. She received another nudge, this time from her purse on her other side.

She peered down to see Tikki’s blue orbs looking at her with concern. Marinette smiled in reassurance.

“I’m fine Tik - just rebooting.” A small giggle sounded from the bag, and Mari’s smile grew. She gave the door one last look and huffed.

“Oh well,” She shrugged. “Might as well head home.”

She stepped off his stoop and strolled over to her own, her deep red door already decorated with a spring wreath - little ladybugs hidden throughout. She shut the door behind her and caught the plate for a second time when a black blur zipped right in front of her face.

“Hey Bug, I overheard your little exchange… want me to phase over and cataclysm his TV or something?”

“Plagg! What have I said about startling me? You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” He ignored her, floating in lazy circles near her ear. She continued to grumble about the cat as she continued to the kitchen - Tikki flying out of Mari’s purse to join her other half.

“No cataclysms!” The Luck God scolded him, crossing her paws. “We can’t risk anyone becoming suspicious of where the guardian is - anyone who knows the temple returned will be on the hunt!”

“Please,” Plagg scoffed. “I can pop in and out without him noticing and not leave a trace - it’d probably at least annoy the hell out of Mr-stick-up-his-”

“As much as I’d like to get him back for his rude comment - seriously, where does he get off?!” Marinette interrupted with a sigh and a small smile. “Tikki’s right, and it wouldn’t be very guardian or Ladybug-like of me besides.”

“Fine - but the offer still stands.” The little floating cat huffed, flying over to where Squishy cuddled in her bed by the window, watching her owner for signs of needing her.

It was odd how well the dog and cat god got along - Plagg refused to acknowledge he was fond of the Pit Bull, but they were found more often than not sleeping curled together on Mari’s bed at night, and Marinette suspected he snuck her treats.

“As long as we don’t see each other much beyond going in or out of our places - it shouldn’t be a problem.” She shrugged, popping a cookie from the plate in her mouth and handing one to Tikki who happily accepted. “With how ‘busy’ he alluded to being - it shouldn’t be hard.”

*******************************************************************************

Turns out - easier said than done.

She saw him the next day in line at a coffee shop accompanied by a man a few years older than him who looked as if death had warmed over. Mr. Grouchy made eye contact with her and scowled before turning away with a tsk.

She rolled her eyes and focused back on the barista. “Hello,” she smiled as much as she could manage at the buttcrack of dawn. “It’s a longshot, but do you happen to have any ‘Black Insomnia’ or ‘High Voltage’?” The blonde behind the counter paled.

“Not another one.” She whispered, her eyes darting over to the man being tugged along by her neighbor.

Marinette tilted her head in question, and the barista seemed to shake it off.

“We are well stocked with Black Insomnia, what size will it be and how would you like it made?” She asked, her customer service smile strained.

“The largest you have - as black as you can make it.” She smiled back and took her receipt, walking over to a booth, overhearing her call out for a “Suicidal Wayne” just as another worker called out for the same drink.

The older boy, the one who looked in desperate need of a good night's sleep, leaned on Mr. Pissy as if he was the only thing keeping him upright - but at the mention of the order, his eyes snapped over to her. He gave her a small wave, and she returned it with a quirked brow. He looked close to moving over, but Sir Scowls-a-lot stopped him with a hand on his arm. He spoke in a low voice, and the tired man’s face melted into a mix of disappointment and exasperation. The man shot her an annoyed look and turned back to the front.

She wanted to go over and demand to know what he could possibly say having met her once for five minutes, but the barista called out three names - hers, ‘Tim’, and ‘Damian’. She walked up before the two could move and grabbed her cup, thanking the woman, before brushing past ‘Tim and Damian’ on her way out. She was in a rush - there was a show coming up next week and she had fittings all day, she didn’t have time to deal with her asshat of a neighbor and his friend with good taste in coffee.

*******************************************************************************************

As the days passed, they continued bumping into each other. Their dynamic well-past talking, favoring annoyed glares and eye rolls. He wanted to scare her off (the Wayne lawyer way or Robin way - he hadn’t decided yet), but his father and brothers refused - insisting she hadn’t done anything deserving of any kind of action.

Yet. His mind supplied.

There was something off about her - the sixth sense he’d acquired through his life was never wrong, and she set it off like fireworks whenever she was near. He couldn’t get a read on her intentions, but he wasn’t one to wait for the other shoe to drop - he planned to keep his eye on her.

*******************************************************************************************

He saw her again on patrol a week and a half after she first knocked on his door.

He was in costume uniform tailing a group of five men who had recently left a warehouse that belonged to the Penguin. Red Hood stationed across the street following parallel to him.

The men turned the corner on Hood’s side, and Robin signaled he would wait until they were out of earshot before grappling over. Hood nodded and continued trailing them.

Robin waited for a beat, then shot his hook out to grab the highest ledge available.

“Shit.” Hood’s voice through his comm made his hand jerk and his grappling hook missed the mark. He released his own curse and reshot as soon as the cable fully retracted.

“Report, Hood.” He snapped, flipping at the arc of his swing and sailing over the first building.

“They’re targeting a girl - she looks your age, tiny, at least partially Asian,” Hood grunted lowly.

Damian groaned.

“Acquaintance of yours, Demon Spawn?” Red Hood teased.

“No names in the field, Hood.” He hissed. “And it’s my new neighbor - she keeps popping up like a bad penny.”

“The one you said tried to butter you up with cookies, and drinks the same motor oil as Replacement?” Hood asked. Robin landed beside him, leaning over the ledge to watch the girl’s progress as she leisurely strolled down the street with several shopping bags.

“<Tt>, idiot,” Robin muttered under his breath. “That’s her.” He glanced at Hood who nodded.

“You know - I still say you might have misjudged the situation - Timmy said she didn’t seem the cozy-ing up type and seemed kinda openly pissed at you.” Red Hood mused.

“No. Names. In. The. Field. Hood.” Robin grit out, tired of this conversation - he’d had versions of it with his family ever since the coffee shop incident.

Everyone insisted the Dupain-Cheng girl was trying to be nice - but he looked through her records, and found an unprecedented amount of bullying accusations against her in high school, and she’d quit her job at ‘Agreste’ with no warning - but that was oddly heavily-guarded information. He had been locked out of many of even the simplest social media accounts and public records - especially anything to do with the Agreste brand founder. A familiar itch on the back of his neck told him he was onto something big - and his suspiciously friendly neighbor was connected.

Hood took a breath as if to continue the conversation when Robin put a hand up and signaled downward.

They both looked to see the tiny girl turn sharply across the road and into a dead-end alleyway. She’s even stupider than I assumed , Robin mentally groaned as he and Red Hood scrambled to follow.

They dropped to street-level and ran over to the alley, prepared to find the young woman in need of saving, only to see three men passed out near the entrance. A dented trash lid resting nearby. The small girl, who looked like Red Hood could lift her with one hand, flipped a fourth over her shoulder with ease.

“Holy Mother-” Hood gaped at the scene and sidestepped the flying body - it landed behind him on top of the others.

Robin didn’t flinch as the man sailed past and ruffled his cape. His eyes were fixed on the girl as she high-kicked the last man under the jaw - knocking him out immediately. He couldn’t stop the words ‘almalak almuharib[1]’ from slipping past his lips in an awed gasp. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

He shook himself, scowling at the foolish thoughts that rose unbidden. Perhaps she is a shaman or spell caster. That is it - this must be a spell. He reasoned to himself.

He watched, still unable to move, as the girl dusted off her clothes and reached into her bag.

“Are you two gonna help, or do you plan to stand there with your mouths open like a couple of fish.” She asked as she turned around with a handful of zip ties, eyebrow quirked.

“You have one hell of a kick, kid.” Red Hood broke the silence, moving forward to grab a few of the proffered zip ties (even though he had plenty of his own).

“It was nothing.” She brushed off the complement with a wave of her hand and a light rose dusting on her cheeks.

Red Hood scoffed, “Whatever kid, that was the most badass take-down I’ve seen in a while - and I know Wonder Woman.” He extended his fist for a bump.

Her smile fell from her face as if she’d been slapped - her eyes fixated on the proffered fist and starting to water.

“Uh…” Red Hood lowered his arm, “I ain’t trying to hit you kid… you guys have fist bumps in Europe, right?” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“I… It’s nothing - you just... reminded me of a friend.” She whispered, taking in a shuddering breath and turning sharply to secure the last guy she knocked unconscious.

Robin shared a look with his brother (an odd thing to do through a helmet, but they knew each other well enough for it to work) and shrugged, before taking out his own zip ties and turning to the pile of three large men.

As they finished with the other four, Marinette walked past them with her bags and a quick “I’ll leave them to you, then” - and left the alleyway, disappearing from sight.

“That… was weird, right?” Hood said, staring after her. “Shouldn’t we make her stick around to give a statement?”

Robin shook his head slowly. “I think… it would be best to let her go... this time. We have both seen that look before.” In the mirror every time we lost a teammate in battle, he glared where he’d last seen her retreating figure, and puzzled over the new information.

“Wait, wait, wait, I agree she can fight and all, but are you really saying that the little pipsqueak...” He choked out in surprise, Damian could tell his eyes were bugging under his mask.

“I’m not sure, but she’s certainly no average civilian.” He cut his brother off with a shake of his head. “I suggest we keep an eye on her.”

“Hey, if you two have finished your little intrusion into the poor girl’s life and traumas, the police are a minute out.” Barbra, or rather, Oracle’s voice sounded from their earpieces.

Damian took one last look at where she’d disappeared to before turning away with narrowed eyes and a “<Tt>”.

*******************************************************************************************

Marinette withdrew following the encounter in the alley - barely acknowledging her surly neighbor, Squishy refused to leave her side, and Plagg and Tikki often needed to call her name several times before she’d respond… The Kwamii were worried.

“Tik… we only just pulled her out of the slump she was in back in Paris after…” Plagg’s normally light and expressive face fell, his tail, ears, and whiskers drooping.

“I know… It’s never easy to lose one.” She whispered with a pained wince, past memories flashing in front of her eyes. She floated over to her other half and pulled him into her, petting the back of his head as stuttering purrs overtook his shaking.

“If she continues to relive it, we’ll lose her too - remember Keket.” Tikki shuddered at the reminder of the young girl.

“No… we can’t let that happen again,” Plagg growled, the memories of the long lost kitten painful even all these years later. They couldn’t let that happen to Marinette. Tikki nodded firmly into his shoulder.

*******************************************************************************************

Marinette stretched out under a large oak tree in the city gardens, her sketchbook open on her lap and Squishy laid over her legs - keeping guard. She stared at the blank page with unfocused eyes, memories swimming in her head out of order and distorted.

“*Sniff* Mommy... Daddy…” A small voice sobbed, pulling her from her musings. She closed her book and set it aside. Squishy took that as a signal to get up and look around, her ears swiveling alertly.

“Where is it coming from, Squish?” She reached to rest her hand on the dog’s back, Marinette stood and looked around intently.

Her dog gave a soft *wuff* and tugged on the leash. Marinette turned and allowed the Pit Bull to direct her. As they neared the bushes the sound came from, Marinette stopped short at the sight of a familiar well-kept head of dark hair and moved her and Squishy to peek around them to the bench beyond.

From her position, she saw her prickly neighbor crouching next to a boy of about five or six whose cries turned into soft giggles as a Great Dane licked at his face, tail wagging wildly.

“Alright Titus, let the boy breathe.” The man grunted, tugging lightly on the large dog’s collar. “Now, have you calmed enough to tell me your name?” He asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, turning his attention to the boy. The kid nodded, sniffing and reaching out to pat the dog - who happily leaned in.

“E-Ethan… My name’s Ethan Sorensen, Mr. Wayne.” He said shyly.

“Ah, you recognize me?” The younger boy nodded, still stroking the dog.

The Wayne Heir returned the nodd. “Good - at least you didn’t talk to a complete stranger. You should be more careful though, the world - and this city especially - are dangerous places for someone young and inexperienced.” He scolded with a frown.

The boy shrunk in, and Titus nudged further into the boy, whining slightly. The temperamental man sighed and hesitantly put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I do not mean to be harsh - I am merely glad I found you first.” He gave the boy a strained smile and it received a laugh from the kid. His eye twitched in annoyance.

“<Tt>,” He groused, pulling back and taking out his phone. He tapped a few times before placing the phone against his ear. “Gordon, I have a boy named Ethan Sorensen alone in the Southeast end of Robinson Park, have there been any missing child reports?” He nodded at whatever response he received. “Good, let your father know we will wait for them on a bench... Yes, of course I plan to remain with him! He is no older than six!... Yes, yes, I will stay behind to issue a statement to the officer… Goodbye Gordon.” He hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket before turning back to the boy.

“Your parents are on their way, would you like to play fetch with Titus until they arrive?” He received a shy nodd in return and handed over a yellow batman-themed ball which was enthusiastically chased once thrown.

Marinette watched a few more throws before retreating to the tree where she had left her bag and packed up.

“So he can be sweet,” she mused to Tikki under her breath.

The Kwamii poked her head out of Mari’s pocket and giggled. “Though he didn’t seem super comfortable with the situation, he went out of his way to be kind to the boy. He stepped up when needed.”

“Yeah, I guess our grumpy-goose next door can act like a human - now and then.” Marinette laughed, turning toward the park’s exit, a light flutter in her chest after watching her awkward frenemy do something kind.

*******************************************************************************************

That night, Marinette seriously considered donning her mask for the first time in over a year.

She couldn’t explain why, but watching Damian’s secretly sweet nature peek through had lifted her spirits. She felt more like her old self than she had in a long time.

The dark and handsome man was obviously out of his comfort zone in interacting with the boy, but his desire to help another person outweighed his own discomfort. Mari’s guardian senses could see the effort it took to overcome the deep-seated parasitic darkness that latched onto his being. .

Her bones buzzed with an energy that had been absent for a year. She didn't call for a transformation though - her Guardian duties came first, and she needed to understand the city as a healer before she could take on an active protector role.

Using the recovered energy, she took back up a project she'd been working on - knitting hats, gloves, and scarves with needles Wayzz helped her infuse with a warming charm. She planned to give them away at the shelter she volunteered at on weekends when the weather turned in a few months.

She had four sets of mittens done and adjusted the needles to start on a fifth when a loud crash sounded from the other end of the wall. She jumped up and grabbed the retractable baton she stored in her crafting room, sliding into a crouching position. Tikki and Plagg flew over from the cushion they were lounging on to hover next to her.

They waited in suspense - listening for clues as to what was going on beyond the wall.

After a few moments, a pained groan sounded along with another, smaller crash.

Was it… her surly Wayne neighbor?

She shared a glance with Tikki and Plagg, and the three nodded. Plagg phased through the wall, and Tikki flew to Mari’s shoulder. An anxious minute later, Plagg returned, stifling laughter with his paws.

“Oh yeah - he’s gonna need some help,” He snorted. “And what is it with you attracting all the weirdos?” He cackled, flying over to the mini-fridge she kept stocked with Kwamii food and phasing through.

“You’ll want to bring the first aid kit,” he continued, exiting the fridge with a small wheel of cheese and taking a large bite before continuing. “Probably keep the baton with you in case there’s trouble - the kid may not be much help watching your back.”

That snapped her to attention, and she rushed off to her bathroom to grab the enormous first aid kit she collected over years of hero work. She pulled on a coat - Tikki slipping into a pocket - and shoved her feet into her deep red combat boots, quickly tying them before rushing out her front door and over to the stoop she’d glared at in passing for weeks.

Marinette took a deep breath to calm herself before testing the door - which was of course locked. She huffed and pulled out the lock-pick set she stored in the inner lining of her boots. She unlocked the door after two frustrating minutes - it seemed her neighbor wasn’t satisfied with the standard locks that came with the condos and installed his own.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and re-locked it - noticing a blinking red light on a small black box along the side of the door.

Probably a silent alarm, she mused, No matter - I’m here to help and have no intention of harming… Oh geez, I don’t even know his name - what will the police think when they arrive here?! What names did the barista say at the coffee house? - Tim and… Damian? Gah! It doesn’t matter - he still needs help! She shook herself and continued along the hallway with the first aid kit in her left hand and the baton in her right - raised and ready for trouble.

“Um… Hello?” She called out, deciding it was better to alert any robbers than to scare her injured neighbor. “It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng - your neighbor next door? I heard a crash and someone in pain, so I let myself in…” Having cleared the first floor, she turned to the stairs at the back of the house past the kitchen. “Mr. Wayne?”

A pained grunt sounded from the top of the stairs and she tensed further, not foolish enough to rush ahead after the warning Plagg gave - even if it wasn’t bad enough to insist on coming himself.

“Is that you, Mr. Wayne?” She called, narrowing her eyes as she reached the top of the stairs.

“I...in here...” A deep male voice coughed from the last room to her right, and she heard a low growling as she entered the room.

“I’m going to turn on the light.” She called a moment before she did.

Muttered cursing sounded at the light and drew her eyes to the floor under the window where the young Wayne lay on his side, clutching a gash over his chest, and surrounded by glass. The man was dressed in a ripped Robin uniform she’d become familiar with due to all the merch that littered the city.

“Oh…” Marinette whispered, Plagg’s comment on attracting weirdos now making sense. She heaved a deep sigh.

“His name is Titus, right?” The dog twitched at his name, and his master nodded stiffly. “Will he let me take a look at your injuries?” She retracted the baton and set it on the ground slowly with the kit, keeping her movements slow, and returning to a standing position with her palms empty and up.

“Titus, hda[2].” The dog slowly relaxed his tense position and looked back at the boy on the ground behind him. “Rahab[3].” The man said, nodding toward her, wincing as it pulled at one of his many injuries.

Though she didn’t understand the language of the commands, their meanings were obvious - she sank to the floor again and turned to her side, slowly offering her hand for the great black beast to sniff. He cautiously approached her and watched her body language intently as he snuffled at her hand - leaving a cool trail behind, which would have made her giggle in another situation.

Finally deciding to trust her , he licked her cheek and released a whine - tugging her jacket sleeve over to his injured master. She reached back to grab her kit and allowed the dog to pull her forward.

“Where are you hurt most severely?” She asked, kneeling beside him, ignoring the few pricks of glass in her legs as she did so.

“The gash on my chest is the only one that needs looked at immediately... the others are superficial.” He wheezed lightly, his voice strained.

“Was your head or spine injured to your knowledge?” At the slight shake of his head, she carefully slid her arms under him and gently lifted him into a princess carry. He let out an indignant and surprised manly squeak and she tried to hide her smile.

“Your partners, do you want me to contact them?” She asked, entering the connected bathroom and flipping the switch with her shoulder.

“My communicator and tracker are busted - though if you came through the front door, they were alerted and will send someone to check when I do not respond.”

She nodded and set him into the tub as gently as she could, shooing Titus away from sticking his head in as close as he could get it to the man. She set her kit on the floor and pulled out a pair of scissors. He snorted at the sight.

“Those will not even make a scratch in -” She grinned at his stunned silence as she nearly glided through the material, snagging a few times on previously patched parts.

“...” He stared at the scissors as she shifted to cut the sleeves. “This is the highest grade kevlar… how in the…” He turned to meet her laughing eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

“I have my secrets,” She gestured to the suit she was tearing into. “And you have your’s.” He pinned her with a look, but she raised her own brow as if to ask ‘you don’t actually expect me to tell you, do you?’

He scoffed and turned to the wall.

She laughed and moved the last of the material out of the way - turning back to her kit to gather her supplies.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me give you any Lidocaine?” He gave her a ‘what do you think?’ look. “That’s what I thought - want something to bite on?”

“I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, turning away again.

“Alright tough guy, I’m gonna just dive in - if you need a break or want to change your mind, let me know.” He nodded, and she threaded the hooked needle, glancing at him once more before starting in.

She was amazed at how little he reacted - a few face twitches at most - and she made sure to get through it as quickly as possible. After tying it off, she cleaned around the wound and taped gauze over it, and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

She turned to grab more alcohol swabs, only to find the injured hero unsteadily climbing to his feet.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asked, exasperated.

“The rest is livable - I will be fine. Thank you for-”

“Thank me when I’m done patching you up, you stubborn fool.” She rolled her eyes, pushing him back down.

“How are you so strong?!” He huffed. “I don’t know of many civilians who could lift a grown man without an issue…” He left the statement trailing like a question, and she laughed.

“I grew up in a bakery - I’ve been lifting bags of flour my whole life.” She shrugged, taping up his finished arm and moving onto another gash.

“Sure…” He scoffed, not believing for a second that was all there was to it. She shrugged in response.

They sat in silence until she finished , tapping on the last square of gauze.

“Alright,” She helped him to his feet and over to his bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shook his head, giving a soft ‘Thank you’ - reaching out to catch her hand as she began walking over to retrieve the baton she’d left by his door.

“Truly - I… I would have been in trouble if you had not found me when you did. The others are in the middle of a fight and my beacon was broken before I could activate it… there might still be time before they worry.”

“Happy to help.” She smiled, patting his arm. He nodded, breaking eye contact again and patting Titus who jumped on the bed to snuggle the man.

“By the way…” She started. “What is your name? I know your last name is Wayne - that’s what the boy at the park said anyway, and I think it’s either ‘Damian’ or ‘Tim’ - because those were the names the barista gave at the coffee shop…”

“Wait,” He stopped her. “You… don’t know who I am?”

“Um… should I? The way the boy said it made it sound as if you’re well known here - but I’m only familiar with Parisian celebrities.”

“Oh, then… I believe I may owe you an apology.” He scratched the back of his head, still avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, yes you do - but what are you referring to?” She started with a irked look, and he had the decency to look abashed.

“When you first came to my door… I thought it another instance of someone trying to get in my good graces because I’m a Wayne. My father and brothers have warned me against social climbers, and I find it best to avoid encouraging them by making my disinterest known right away.” He still refused to meet her eyes and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

She waited until he met her eyes before speaking. “I appreciate and accept your apology, and I understand. ” He raised a disbelieving brow.

“No,” she chuckled, “Really. Back in Paris, I had a few friends who suffered from the same problem - an Olympic fencer, a model, a rock singer…” She shrugged. “I get it… but I’d also like to start again if you’re up for it?”

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her sincerity, before he slowly nodded and extended his hand.

“Hello… I am Damian Wayne.” She grinned and grasped his hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

*******************************************************************************************

Dick burst into the apartment moments after Marinette returned to her own home - leaving her phone number behind with strict instructions to call if he needed anything. He explained what happened - causing Dick check for a concussion when he openly admitted to misjudging her - and was taken to the cave.

Alfred was impressed with Marinette’s stitch job, and only needed to re-bandage the wounds he’d checked. His father had interrogated him for several hours when he found out a near-stranger knew at least Robin’s identity. He was talked down from all-out kidnapping the girl for answers only because Damian insisted on it - and he rarely stood up for his family, let alone strangers. So, they decided to keep a close eye on her when she went out (Damian living directly next door kept them from over-bugging the outside of her home).

They discovered she worked in a small boutique in the Fashion District, and volunteered at a shelter. When she wasn’t at either of those places or running errands, she wandered the city for places to sit and sketch. They had the sneaking suspicion she knew of their presence , but hadn’t caught her looking directly at them yet.

They were all wary of her but eventually eased up on their suspicions the more they were around the little - but strangely strong - ball of sunshine.

*******************************************************************************************

A few nights later, Damian awoke to the sounds of muffled cries. He instinctively jolted out of bed and reached for the sword next to his nightstand. Listening, he found the sounds came from Marinette’s apartment. He popped open the door to his balcony located on the same wall as hers.

Leaping over - narrowly avoiding knocking over one of the many pots strewn on every surface - he slunk over to her door and peeked inside, expecting a struggle and looking for the best opening to intervene.

What he saw was his small neighbor (friend?) curled on her bed, tangled in her blankets, with tears streaming down her face. She thrashed, a whimper loud enough for him to hear through the glass slipping through her lips.

He sighed and set his shoulders - he’d seen enough night terrors from his brothers, the Titans, and even members of his grandfather’s League to know he wouldn’t leave her to suffer, but not looking forward to explaining how he entered .

Working on the simple lock, he slid the door open silently, and closed it behind him, leaning his sword against it where she wouldn’t notice it unless she paid attention. .

A whine halted his approach, and he paused, noticing the butter-colored Pit Bull at the foot of the bed - having obviously knocked off in her mistress’ movement - and reached a hand out. The dog sniffed hesitantly, her tail stuck firmly between her legs, and her ears flat against her head in worry.

“It’s alright, girl, I am here to help.” He soothed, rubbing at her ears until her tail uncurled and began to half-heartedly wag.

“NON!... CHAT!” The girl on the bed sobbed, her arms flailing as if reaching for something.

He was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arms and readying himself in case she fought him.

“Mari!” He called, shaking her none too gently, “Mari! It is a dream! You need to wake up!”

It took several tries, but soon her eyes shot open.

She sat up, latching onto the first thing she found, and as he still held her wrists, (and her dog was on the floor) he found his arms full of a sobbing Marinette. She gasped, muttering in French how sorry she was, how she should have been stronger, how it was her fault…

He held her, as his brothers did for him for months after he came back from the pits and awoke from his own nightmares. He started to rock back and forth - smoothing her hair, and she cuddled in closer, her cries pittering out.

The city’s ambience filled the room - interspersed with the slight creaking of the bed at Damian’s continued rocking motion.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked after what felt like both a moment and an eternity.

She hesitated, before starting in a small, frail voice.

He learned what transpired in France with the villain the League had been forbidden from interfering with. She told him of the emotional trauma - having to police your own emotions, watching loved ones be used, watching them die horribly, only to have them come back with no memory of the fact.

And then - she told him about Ladybug.

She didn’t swear him to secrecy or threaten him if he told anyone - it spilled out with everything else.

She had been alone.

As a civilian, she was isolated, and as a hero - she had no one to lean on, especially once entrusted with the Guardian title. She had only her Kwamii (whatever that was - she made it seem like some all-powerful sprite) who knew her identity, and she couldn’t properly vent for fear of becoming ‘akumatized’.

She told him about the final battle. How it turned out to be the father of a friend who terrorized everyone, how her partner had nearly fallen apart in grief - as it was his father - and how her partner, her friend, had died saving her from his father’s blade. The blow caused his own power, a "cataclysm" to defensively implode, destroying everything in the vicinity - even the bearer of the ring. Marinette's saving grace was her own power, the ultimate balance to destruction, which shielded her from the blast.

She sobbed into his shoulder after the tale was done until she eventually fell into a deep sleep.

He set her back into the bed gently and covered her with the blankets. Moving to the chair in the corner he slumped down, head in his hands, absorbing the emotion and information her story had left him with.

A wet nose nudged his arm, and he looked down to see her dog slowly wagging her tail and giving him sad puppy-eyes. He gave her a small smile.

“It’ll be alright…” He shifted to search for a tag to find her name - not remembering it from Marinette’s initial introduction.

“It’s Squishy.” A small, high voice called. He jerked his head up to watch a red fairy-bug…thing float down to rest on the dog’s head. “Mari found her rooting through some trash in an alley a week after the final battle - they’ve been inseparable ever since.”

They eyed each other for a moment before he broke the silence.

“...Tikki… right?” That was the name from Marinette’s story. She nodded, her big sky-blue eyes analyzing his soul.

“I am Tikki, Kwamii of Creation and good luck. Thank you for helping my chosen tonight - Plagg and I couldn’t wake her.” She drooped. “This one was particularly bad.” He nodded, and another sprite floated over, this one pitch black with a tail, small pointed ears, and ancient, acid green eyes.

“I’m Plagg - Kwamii of Destruction and bad luck - and I won’t hesitate to cataclysm you into oblivion if you hurt my Bug with the info she trusted you with tonight - or at all, for that matter.” It should have been impossible, with all of his experience, to be frightened of such a tiny being, but Damian found himself shuddering at the fierce protectiveness all the same.

“Understood.” Damian nodded.

“Good.” And just like that, the eyes were half-lidded and looked bored. “Do you have any fancy cheese at your place? The Bug cut me off from the good stuff after I tangled her expensive yarn or whatever.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his ‘arms’.

“Plagg! Can you not think of your stomach for once?!” The red sprite cried, exasperated.

“I spent the whole night watching Spots and trying to wake her when the dream started, then I threatened the birdboy - that’s a long time!” He pouted, and Damian huffed in amusement at how much the tiny cat reminded him of Todd’s bottomless pit of a stomach.

“There’s blue cheese and brie in the fridge.” He pointed down and to the side where his kitchen lay, and was shocked as the cat passed directly through the wall without a word.

“Sorry about him ,” Tikki said with a fond sigh. “He’s worried about Mari, and pretending he doesn't care is how he copes.” She took on a serious look and pinned him with it.

“I know you’re a hero and used to keeping secrets, but the miraculous are the most powerful artifacts in the world. We existed before the dawn of man, and we will far out-live your kind.” He stared at her, the ancient power from the cat now pulsed from her, telling him she wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Mari is all alone in this, and we planned to convince her to seek help from your “league of heroes” soon, so this is not entirely inconvenient - but she trusted you. She is gifted with excellent instincts - both as a Ladybug and a Guardian - I don’t oppose her choice, but I warn you - should you cause any harm to befall her, you will answer to me.” Damian shuddered for the second time that night - the second time in years - and nodded solemnly.

“I understand.” She searched his eyes for another minute before her own softened.

“I see you do. You’ve endured your own trials.” He looked at the lump on the bed to avoid her stare. “I think you will be good for each other.” She mused, rising from Squishy’s head and floating over to the wall connecting his home to Marinettes’.

“I’m going to make sure Plagg hasn’t eaten everything you own.” She giggled, and phased through the wall.

He released a shuddering breath and slumped down from his stiff position - reaching over to pet Squishy’s head as she leaned in and began to thump her tail against the floor. He smiled softly at the sight and sunk further back into the chair with a deep sigh.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through how to help the neighbor he’d assumed was after his money and name. He winced at his previous misconceptions. He needed more practice at learning to accurately read people - perhaps he could convince Cass to coach him in nonverbal cues.

He shook his head, helping Marinette build a support system was top priority. He’d always bemoaned his family getting in his way - but at least he’d never been left alone. From her story, it seemed like she’d run the entire Paris operation on her own the four years Hawkmoth had been at large.

The first step was to involve his Father and siblings - they’d know how to execute a plan - but he felt it had to come at her own pace. From what she said, she’d had no choice but to play catch-up during her entire battle - since she was twelve.

He continued to chase his thoughts in a dizzying dance until he eventually succumbed to sleep, not noticing when the kwamii crept back and snuggled in alongside Marinette.

*******************************************************************************************

Three months later - a tiny girl in a dark red and black ensemble was spotted running on rooftops alongside Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing, her light, bell-like laughter ringing out into the Gotham night.

The local media pages blew up - the people of Gotham fell in love with their ‘Ladybird’ and her sweet nature which opposed the stoic and gruff bats. It was interesting for them to see her banter and fight alongside the other members of the team - especially Robin, who became her shadow, rarely leaving her side.

She had several blogs dedicated to her feats and theories about the miraculously healed injuries and repaired battle sites. It didn’t take long for people from France to find the numerous articles, and start the rumor she was once their ‘Ladybug’, but there was no solid evidence. The two looked and acted completely differently.

Ladybird was free-spirited and light of heart, whereas Ladybug was serious and professional. Many speculated the Ladybug miraculous traded hands, but, as there was no supernatural Cat seen, it remained an unlikely theory.

Unfortunately for the bloggers, it was hard to snag a good look at the bats, as they thrived in the darkness. Others commented on Robin’s costume change, but Ladybird’s appearance took the spotlight.

If they had caught a closer look, they would have found Robin’s red and yellow colors gone , and the forest green was replaced with a more muted-toxic tone. Thankfully, his hood hid the most significant changes as he now sported two small velvet ears that reacted to sound and emotion, and his usual katakana now had a pitch-black blade with green detailing on the hilt.

In completely unrelated news, the youngest son of Gotham’s resident billionaire was in the news frequently as he’d taken to hanging around a petite Asian-French girl who was rumored to be a famous designer from France. She was photographed numerous times on outings with Damian and both their dogs - who got along even better than their owners.

Due to her kind nature and enchanting smile, she quickly gained the nickname ‘Sunshine of Gotham’ and the tag trended frequently on Twitter.

During an interview with a fashion magazine, she was asked if she’d ever leave the city of crime, and the answer she’d given was proudly displayed in the Gotham Gazette the next day.

“The people of Gotham have heart and spunk which can’t be matched - I was welcomed here after a difficult time in France, and I don’t see myself growing tired of being challenged and cared for in the way only Gotham can.”

*******************************************************************************************

[1] Almalak almuharib - ‘Warrior Angel’ in Arabic [2] Hda - ‘calm’ in arabic [3] Rahab - ‘greet’ in arabic

#maribat-secret-santa-2020

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pl-panda · 4 years

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The vines that bind us - Chapter 7

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After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.

She started by greeting the two plants in Mr. Drake’s office. Both were incredibly satisfied with themselves that they earned bigger pots. They were also even happier to see her. Next, she took care of her new plants. The two on her desk she quickly took a liking to. They were cute. Only the large plant that now stood in the corner next to the vent was snarky and dared to make an inappropriate comment about one of the office plants. The hole in that leaf was caused by a bullet thank you very much. Mari quickly and clearly explained where it made mistakes.

With that done, she got to the paperwork that was left on her desk. There were many things to be done before the lunch break.

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Chloe was giddy the whole day. She got a green light to deal with the Liar in any way she wished. So many plans. So many possible revenge options. So many lawsuits to be filled. But as she was walking to the cafeteria, a new, even more devious, plan formed in her head. She would need the help of a certain stuck-up brat, but if she got him to help, it would not only destroy Lila but utterly ruin her. She already had several ideas from her other schemes that could be adjusted. Oh, this would be glorious if only she found… there!

Damian Wayne was not having a good day. He was in fact having a really, really bad day. His father had forbidden him from bringing another sword to work until his previous one is returned. Given how efficient the GCPD is, he would be lucky to get it before thirty. He was the only one of his brothers to arrive at WE before lunch, which led to more irritation. He definitely hated the corporate gossip about one Marinette Dupain-Cheng. How she was awesome, how she was a 'bamf' (whatever that meant), or how much they adored her kind-but-still-no-nonsense attitude. She took his sword!

“Wayne.” An irritating voice came from behind. Damian was of course aware that someone was behind him but dismissed it as an employee doing something unrelated to him.

“Bourgeoise. What the heck do you want from me?” He spat

“To show you something.” She pulled her phone from the pocket of her jacket. He quietly admired how she found female clothing with pockets that deep. At the same time, he kept frowning at her.

“I swear, if it’s…” He didn’t finish, because she pressed ‘play’ and the video started. The whole thing laster about seven minutes. With each passing moment, his frown deepened and by the end, Chloe wondered how can he see anything when his eyes narrowed to two tiny slits.

“I. want. her. dead.” He seethed through the clenched teeth.

“Good. But we can’t kill her. Mari forbid it and I know your father isn’t exactly fond of killing.”

“Tt. What. do. you. want?” He pronounced each word clearly.

“Simple. Destroy her with her own words.” She pointed to the group where she was clutching to Adrien’s arm for her dear life. “Mari-bear is too moral to play with her lies like that. Us? We play to win.”

“Fine. But I want my sword back.”

“Clever boy. I knew you could break into an evidence room.” Chloe smiled. “They returned it cleaned of blood the same afternoon. Guess you were too late.”

“Tt.”

“Fine. I will get your precious sword. But if you try to mess with Mari…”

“I got enough of it from my father.” He scowled.

“Good. Now, onto the plan.”

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Mari didn’t come to eat lunch with Chloe. She was perfectly aware that the girl would start one of their plans and wanted to have an alibi. Instead, she dived into the paperwork that had to be done as soon as possible. It was going on good and if she dealt with it before the day’s ended, she would have time to try searching for her mother in the evening. She even inquired with the City Hall about the ownership of their old apartment and the answer should be coming any moment now.

She was broken out of her concentration by a scream of rage and frustration.

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A few moments earlier

Damian stalked toward the group of teens that were relaxing from their intern duties. He could clearly see the Liar clutching to Agreste boy like a leech. Perfect for their plan.

The boy had to agree that what Blonde concocted was both deviously brilliant and brilliantly devious. A perfect opening play. He made sure that he looked flawless before suddenly ‘appearing’ behind Lila and Adrien.

“How could you?” He asked in an emotionless voice. His face was showing only traces of sadness. Just like he would look if it was for real.

“Who are you?” She asked dismissively.

“Really Lila?” He asked, allowing a small amount of water to appear in his eyes. It was not like him to cry at all, but his mother taught him all useful ways of emotional manipulations and tears were all the way on top of that list. “After all these years, our relationship meant so little to you? I specifically got this trip so we could reunite and you are just… hanging off of some french model?”

“Listen here you…” She was interrupted when Chloe stormed, her heels clicking loudly around the cafeteria. Conveniently, everyone removed themselves when they saw Damian stalking toward intern-bitch. Speaking to police two days in a row is not a pleasant experience.

“Wayne. What’s the mess here.”

“Tt. You were right. She is a harlot.”

“Wayne?” Alya asked with wide eyes.

“Yes. You have the questionable experience of meeting a pissed Damian Wayne. My poor cake…” She moaned.

“Would you let that go, woman!?” He asked. This time he had no need to play his emotions. Bourgeoise never forgave him and Drake that Cake incident and it grated on his nerves. He paid her back.

“It was my birthday!” She raised her hands up. “And you are all idiots. Lila kept telling you how great her relationship with Damian was. And yet she is hanging off of Adrien, sinking her claws into his arm. I think the English expression was… I swear I read a book about it. Something with red A…” She pressed a finger to her lips, acting like she was trying to remember. “Ah! Scarlet Woman.” She grinned. “That’s what you are, Lie-la. A scarlet woman using men to get what you want.” That was vicious even for Chloe. Adrien took the opportunity to push the fuming girl away and get back. He could admire the chaos that was about to happen very soon.

To their surprise, Lila calmed herself and giggled.

“ah! Silly Dami-boo! I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I thought we were always just friends. It must’ve been one big misunderstanding”

The people around started to nod their heads, accepting what she said as plausible. Damian Wayne wouldn’t be the first to get the wrong idea. At least until their phones buzzed. Chloe was smirking.

“Misunderstanding? This declarations of love say something different though. I seem to remember there was even some talk about a ring.”

Lila checked her phone and her eyes went wide. There were messages that looked like from her. That witch even replicated her speech pattern. It was much better forgery than what she did with Maribrat.

“Lila?” Nino stared at her in disbelief.

“I’m disappointed. After all this time together.” Damian shook his head. He pulled a small bracelet off and tossed it at her. “Consider this a break-up.”

Chloe smiled. “So you are free now.” She asked him. Damian saw the predatory grin and felt a sudden need to run. But he knew that the witch was not yet destroyed.

“Yes…”

“What say I concede that the cake incident was entirely Drake’s fault. If you take me for a coffee after work?”

Damian gave a distraught Lila a look of hatred. Then, he turned back to Chloe.

“I would like that. Does 4:30 pm works for you?”

“I should be free by then.” She smiled. “It’s a date.”

With that, she left with Damian toward the elevator. Lila had enough of it and stormed to the bathroom. Soon after that, a shriek of frustration filled the building. Since it sounded like the bratty intern, nobody cared enough. The class was not allowed to leave their posts, not that too many of them wanted to be near Lila at the moment. They had many things to think about.

Damian and Chloe sat in the Law department, both having a satisfied grin. It was totally worth it.

“Just to be clear. I still hate you.” He said to her.

“Same here.”

“To the Liar’s fall.” They raised a cookie each and bit in. Most people that saw them had to check again because the Ice Prince was actually hanging around someone his age.

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Mari managed to record the shriek and now used it as Lila’s ringtone. It was a nice mid-day surprise that brightened her day. It lasted all beautiful hour until Marleen White, the head of PR, started knocking on the elevator, demanding to see her. Given her state and that she didn’t even call, it was something urgent. Mari quickly let her in.

“We have a huge problem.” She tossed a folder full of pictures on her desk. There were prints of chat screens with various dates. The content was most troubling.

“I assume someone leaked it to the press?” She shrugged.

“How can you be calm? It’s a disaster!”

“They are fake.” Mari shrugged again.

“Fake?”

“A. That’s not Lila’s number on any of her four mobile phones. B. I have no idea who made it, but they have no idea how Damian Wayne acts. It’s straight up the same bullshit she will be facing a lawsuit for once the Law Department gets through the tons of paperwork. And C. This is an American number. Lila had no way of getting it three years ago. Plus the timing is too perfect. She gets punishment from the company and then the scandal with her dating youngest Wayne gets out. Whoever made it settled on fast, not precise.” Mari circled things on the prints.

“So it’s all fake?”

“I suspect she wanted revenge on the company for the extra work I had her be assigned.” Mari grinned at the memory of the shriek. “Or, someone’s doing it in her name.” For a moment her thoughts wandered to Chloe. She would have to speak to her soon.

“We will deny it and post all of the details you highlighted. The tabloids might still latch on it.”

“To be honest, I think it will be better than being dragged through the mud for the deaths. Especially since there was no story attached. Personally, I can’t care less about celebrity romance.” She dismissed the concern. It pained her a bit to speak about the dead in such a dismissive manner, but through the day she slowly absorbed that it was not her fault. She couldn’t blame herself. That’s what Marinette would do. Marinette was left in Paris by the irritating classmates and had her luggage (full of Adrien’s cheese-stinking socks) sent to India or somewhere.

“That’s… quite a good idea. I assume you will want this forwarded to the Law department to add to the lawsuit.”

“No point. It’s fake and we have no proof who leaked it. I’m plenty certain we have nothing or that person would already be sitting in HR.”

“The IT is looking into it, but they have little hopes. It went through an external server that we can’t get access to legally. Whoever leaked it was smart enough to avoid easy detection.”

“Good. By the way, what about that statement?”

“I sent it to your email.”

“I see it. I will read it and send you eventual suggestions.”

“Sure. It’s nice to have someone competent in place.”

“I thought Mr. Drake was quite a good CEO. He got this company from the hole back to the top?” She tried to remember what she knew about Wayne Enterprises and Wayne Tech

“Yeah, but he is… eccentric. And can disappear at weird times for hours only to then work through three days without sleep”

“Oh. And Sarah was unhelpful?” Mari winced, remembering her own runs when the deadlines approached and she realized she spent the whole week constantly fighting Akumas.

“She was good with people, but…”

“I get it.” Mari smiled. “Luckily, I have experience with babysitting.”

Both women cackled at that.

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Once Marleen was gone, Mari quickly called Chloe’s phone. The girl picked up almost immediately. She was speaking to someone.

“I hope I’m not interrupting your work?”

“Don’t worry Mari-bear. I was just speaking with my newest side-kick.”

“Tt. I’m not a sidekick!” A voice came from next to her. Mari tried to resist the urge to facepalm. Chloe tilted the phone to show a pouting Damian Wayne.

“Shut up Sidekick. I’m the mastermind behind our plans.”

“And I pay for them with my image and sanity.” He replied.

“Hush you! I will let you know that some people would kill for the opportunity.”

“Tt. Right now I want to kill someone.”

“Har har. So funny, are you?”

“As much as I enjoy watching you two flirt… Get a room.” Marigold joked, watching both of them blush red. Before either had a chance to attack her for implying anything, she continued. “Chloe. Did you per any chance fabricated and published texts between Damian and the Liar?”

“Wait! That bitch actually published it?”

Mari facepalmed. She could feel the headache coming. In the hindsight, maybe it would’ve been better to just fire Lila’s sorry ass, together with the rest of the bunch. She could easily have Adrien and Chloe hired on some less permanent deal. They could both do without school for a while.

“Tt. Now I will really need my blade. Please tell me that nobody believed it?” Damian asked, frowning.

“You’re in luck. Madame White caught the wind of it quick enough. She will be making a swift statement that this is an attack on your person and the image of Waynes as a whole. Plus publishing a detailed analysis of why it couldn’t have been you.” Bluenette reassured him that his precious reputation would not take any great hits. Or not too great of a hit at least.

“Good. Jon wouldn’t let me live it down.” He sighed in relief.

“Now, Chlo. You know I love and support your deviousness, but please try and limit the civilian casualties of your future plans.”

“Fine. I can’t promise Lila’s retaliation to follow the same rules.” She huffed.

“Good. You’ve got any plans for the afternoon?”

“She is already otherwise occupied.” Damian quickly interceeded. He might not like the blonde much, but his honor demanded that if he actually invited her for a date, he did his best.

“I will leave you to your scheming then. Or whatever else you are doing” Mari quickly hanged up on the couple before they could scream at her. She saw a bit of blush enter both of their faces so she counted it as a win.

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The rest of the day passed relatively quickly. Tim Drake did not show for work, so she had to handle the paperwork herself. She never imagined how much work went into organizing one press conference. Sarah did absolutely nothing about it before she quit. Her biggest problem was that she needed to have it happen outside of WE since several journalists expressed their concerns about security. Now she was being hard-pressed to find a separate convention center. Except that things were expensive and Finances were definitely not being helpful. She posted the task to one of their employees. He would send her the offers before the day was up, but there was a slight delay and she would have to wait until four. Mari decided that she can wait and have it done that day.

She informed Chloe and their teacher that she had to stay in the office after hours and get it done so they wouldn’t worry. Then, she dived into making what felt like dozens of phone calls. Out of four serious offers, three would actually pass the standards set by Mr. Drake in the email he oh so graciously sent her in response to a question about the situation. It was six when she actually got done with the negotiations, but the satisfaction was immense. The final price was ten percent lower than what she initially aimed for, so she had more funds for other things. The guest list was also reviewed in the meantime and already sent back, so that was one more thing crossed out of the list.

After being done, she bid farewell to the receptionist near the entrance and went to the Taxi she called before leaving. It was already waiting, which was a nice boon for the end of the day. Her next stop was not the hotel though. She gave the address in the seedier part of town. Her old address to be precise.

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“Are you sure Ma’am?” The taxi driver asked unconvinced. “I mean it’s not the safest part of town.”

“Don’t worry. I can take care of myself. Besides, my mother used to live here.” She gave him a bright smile.

“If you say so…” He shrugged and stopped before a rundown building. Moss and ivy had already overgrown this place a long time ago, but the plants seemed… unhealthy. Like they were left to fend on their own for too long. It was not a good sign.

Hesitating for a moment, Mari entered the building. She was hesitant, even though technically her mother was the owner. The ground floor was empty if one ignored several dozen wild plants in various states of growth. Some were dried and dead, while some others were lush and domineering. It used to be well-kept and ordered inside the garden that she and her mother tended to. She would fix that after she found her mother.

The second floor was not much better. The dust everywhere was indication enough that Pamela Isley moved out long ago. Probably even years. Mari walked around, reminiscing about her childhood. It was not what one would call ordinary, but she would never settle for it anyway. She loved learning about plants with her mother. The martial arts lessons with uncle Wilson when he had time. Science with uncle Victor or her mother. Even the math with uncle Floyd. And Allegra and Claude were there to keep her company.

Slowly, she trailed to her mother’s room. She hoped to find something useful there. She definitely did not expect to have to block a giant mallet with blue and red stripes. Ducking under it, she delivered a quick kick before running to the stairs. Mari dashed downstairs and burst onto the street. The Taxi driver actually waited for her. He was a godsend at this moment. She quickly jumped inside and ordered him to go.

“So? Unwelcome guests?” he asked a bit more cheeky than she would’ve liked.

“Yes. But apparently my mom didn’t live there is some time.” Mari answered in a bitter tone.

“Shame. Hope you have better luck, next time lass.” They rode in silence for a moment. “Name’s Chas by the way. Chas Chandler.”

“Marinette.” She smiled at the man. “Thank you for waiting. I would’ve probably been in a worse situation if not for you.” Mari did not add that the worse situation was ordering the wild plants to defend her. She worked with the wild plants maybe twice before and they didn’t listen that well to orders.

“Where to now?”

Mari gave him the name of the hotel. When they arrived, she paid him and gave him a rather generous tip for the work. It was already dark, but apparently Chloe was not yet here. The class was supposed to be visiting some local museum or whatever. It’s not like she cared.

When Marigold entered her room, there was a large book sitting on her bed. Tikki immediately zoomed out of her pocket and toward it. she hovered over for a moment before she huffed.

“Of course he would do that. He is an idiot though. I would be a much better teacher.”

“Who are you talking about?” Mari asked the small goddess.

“No one!” Kwami said quickly and in a bit higher tone. The bluenette could’ve sworn she saw Tikki get even redder than before.

“Okay… And what’s that? Nothing dangerous I hope?”

“It’s… it’s a spellbook.” Tikki said after hesitating a bit.

“Like magic?”

“Yeah.”

“Who would leave me a spellbook without as much as a note?” Mari asked. She could see Tikki was conflicted.

“I can’t say.” She finally let go of air. “I made a promise that I would keep the secret.”

“Fine. You’re sure it’s safe?”

“Yeah, but Magic is dangerous. You should only do it with some supervision.” Tikki warned her.

“Good thing I have you then.” Marigold grinned.

“Mari! You know I can’t exactly just…” Tikki paused. “You know what, it’s actually not a bad idea. I can teach you some simple stuff for the starters.”

“Huh? I actually expected you to be against it.”

“I trust you to act responsibly. And as a Guardian, you probably should start learning magic anyway.”

“Let’s get started then. Please tell me I can curse Lie-la!”

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#maribat au #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #Mother!Ivy #dc #MLB #mlb x dc #Batman #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #redeemed!chloe #Good!Adrien Agreste #bamf marinette

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ultimatetornshipper · 3 years

Text

Daminette December Day 7

@daminette-december2019-2020

((Note: If you’re a confused little muffin who saw our ship in the top 100 list and you want to know what in the ever loving fuck we are, feel free to dm me or mention me in a post or even to send an ask. do be warned tho that if u send me hate i will block and report u (and not just to tumblr, to everyone I know who is part of this fandom). our little sub fandom is not a toxic space and no one is allowed to make it one or there will be a fucking war))

And we’re back to our anxiety induced in denial Damian. I love this kid. Tho I do wanna make him slightly more… how do I say this… like cold? I dunno maybe I can bring that in with other people and his interactions. I just wanna write him with his proper grammar and what not and like lbh this boi is already a simp for Mari. But I don’t wanna let things happen too quickly, y’know?

Anyway, maybe I should make the theme of this chapter the fact that he has absolutely no chill. Lmao, I think that’s hilarious ngl. Also I’m just gonna pretend certain things existed back then for the sake of my sanity I can’t keep coming up with words that make sense for explaining what a thing is without saying the actual word because it didn’t exist yet. The hologram in that one chapter was hard enough bruh

Ok here we go, thanks for reading! I hope u enjoy it

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 7 – Chill

Damian rolled the ring between his fingers as the morning light filtered through his windows. She’d put the choice in his hands, it was a kind thing to do, smart too. It made sense, if this role was as important as she made it sound it needed someone who could commit to it.

The miraculous was the kind of black that seemed to stretch on forever. It had a bright green paw print on it. He hadn’t put it on yet but from what he could gather it’s kwami would appear as soon as he put it on.

He'd be one of the leaders of an entire Order. He had no idea how big it was. His mother had raised him to lead but that was an entirely different organization. How would Marinette react to that? Could he handle the responsibility?

These thoughts had been plaguing him from the moment he picked up the ring.

But that wasn’t what got to him the most. She was just so… good. She had even agreed to move her entire court to Gotham for his sake. To uproot her entire life and move everyone involved just so that he could stay with his family.

There had to be a catch.

There always is.

He sighed, overthinking everything wasn’t going to help him make this decision.

There was only one thing he could do.

He put on the ring and a bright light caught him off guard. A small floating cat like being appeared in front of him.

“Kid?” he kept his eyes closed as though he didn’t want to see who was in front of him, his voice breaking slightly.

Slowly, the kwami – Plagg if he remembered correctly - opened his eyes. Damian stared at him as disappointment flitted across the creature’s face.

He lifted his brow and asked, “Hope to see someone else, Plagg?”

He chuckled slightly, sadness lacing the sound, “My previous holder, thought maybe I'd get the chance to say goodbye this time,”

Damian frowned, “What do you mean?”

Plagg frowned, “You don’t know about my previous holder? Who gave you my miraculous?”

“Marinette did,” he said, simply, “She actually just gave me the chance to consider the offer of the position, I have the rest of the day to get to know you and make my decision,”

Plagg seemed to consider what he said, he then sat down on the bed in front of Damian. He explained the basics of the miraculous to him, the phrases he needed to use as well as what those phrases would do. The things he’d need as well as what behaviors he might pick up.

“Purring?” Damian said in a disbelieving voice, “You’re telling me I might start purring in my civilian form?”

Plagg cackled, “Yeah, don’t worry it’s not that bad,”

“Tt, what exactly is the purpose of it? In fact what exactly is my purpose? It seems like she has the leadership thing under control,”

Plagg seemed to sober up at the question, he flew up right in front of Damian’s face and looked him in the eyes, “Her job is to lead and look after her court,” his look sharpened and he narrowed his eyes, “Your job is to look after her, your job is to protect her, your job is to see her. Your purpose is to make hers as easy as possible. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll have other official responsibilities and you will rule alongside her, but your real job? Your purpose? You have to help her remember that she’s only human and that that’s okay,”

Damian stared at Plagg, the kwami stared back. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? There had to be something. Some kind of catch.

Before he could grill the kwami, Dick burst into his room.

Damian could see his brother’s clear panic and immediately stood. Dick’s eyes found his, “She’s gone,”

Damian felt himself spiral, memories flew through his mind. All the times he or any of his siblings had been taken. Cass didn’t speak for a month after the last incident. Jason’s “secret" panic attacks had increased tremendously. Tim stayed up for nights on end, only sleeping when he passed out. Damian sparred for hours and hours, hating the feeling of being useless.

His father and Dick weren’t in Gotham at the time and Selina was helping Harley with one of her ‘projects’.

When they got Steph back after a week, she was so shook up that she kept waking up screaming from nightmares for months.

They all blamed themselves.

“Her kwami showed us a letter she left but someone could’ve faked it to buy time, they’re searching the village,” Jason said, coming into his room, holding a piece of parchment.

Damian barely registered the way Plagg seemed to study his reactions. They needed to find her, it was already afternoon, who knows how far gone she could be?

They spent hours scouring the castle. Before he knew it the moon was rising and they were all gathered in the living room, going over possibilities.

“I’m going to go get Alfred and Bruce, this has been going on long enough, it’s time to call in back up. It’s already passed nightfall and she’s not back yet,” Dick walked out of the room, barely two seconds passed before he shouted something to them, “Guys I found her!”

They were out quicker than a lightning bolt. He ignored his siblings as they all flocked around her. He took her in.

She was wearing a cloak, which Jason quickly took and gave to a passing maid. She wore one of her black dresses. Her hair was in a braid.

But the cloak was dirty, the dress had tears and the braid was messy.

But it was her eyes that got him. The blue irises looked like someone had taken every drop of sadness in the world and left it in them. They were red rimmed and puffy and there were black bags under them.

She’d been crying and she hadn’t slept. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

Somewhere along the line, they moved back into the living room. Cass was sitting next to Marinette on the couch and the others were arguing.

Damian couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was here. She was safe. She wasn’t taken.

Cass tapped his arm, he turned to look at her and she started signing. (a/n ok yeah I know that sign language might not have existed but do I really care?)

Get her out of here, she’s tired, Cass signed.

Damian nodded and after asking her permission and scolding his siblings, he escorted her to her room.

Plagg whispered something to her that he couldn’t hear.

Then she apologized for scaring him and he explained his thought process. She explained that he would’ve been able to know via their miraculous whether she was in trouble or not. He made a mental note to ask Plagg more about that.

When they got to her room he opened her door. She was about to go in but he grabbed her hand, stopping her. She looked at him expectantly. He searched her gaze, he had so much he wanted to ask her, why she’d been crying was at the top of that list.

But she looked so tired, and Damian just couldn’t get himself to form the words. Instead he bid her goodnight and went back to the living room where his siblings were waiting.

All eyes turned to him when he entered. He didn’t know what to say. Instead of thinking his words through he blurted out the first thing he thought.

“She didn’t flinch when our eyes met,” he said. They all stared at him for a few seconds. Usually they would’ve laughed at his bluntness, Damian is certain, but there was something about the haunted look on her face that sapped all humor out of the situation.

Jason was crouched in front of the fire. Stephanie sat on one of the chairs while Dick leaned against its armrest. Damian was next to Cassandra on the couch and the five of them sat in silence.

Millions of questions danced through the air, the answers all just out of reach.

Little did they know that they weren’t the only ones with questions.

Outside, three pairs of eyes were watching the oblivious siblings closely.

Damian felt a chill go down his spine and turned towards the window. He walked over and stared out into the forest, he didn’t see anyone but the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave him.

He closed the curtains.

The smallest of the three chuckled slightly, “She got herself a paranoid one, huh?”

“We need to head back,” the only guy out of the three said to the others.

They nodded and followed him deeper into the forest.

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @forgottenfriends @wolf-for-life @heyitsbugette @f-rget-lt @fusser90

#daminette december #daminette #utp writes #well would u look at that #me actually following a prompt pretty well #it's gonna snow in Egypt #does it snow in Egypt? i dunno man #anyway here's protective batsiblings again #sad plagg my poor baby #Damian's pov after basically ignoring him for a chapter #Bruce and Alfred weren't involved because plot #also antagonist?? do we smell a bad guy?? or am i a troll?? i guess we'll find out later because even I don't know lmao #mari was just chilling in a field and they all freaked tf out. can't say i blame em thoo #maribat #marinette x damian #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #medieval au #are my chapter lengths inconsistent and completely random depending on my mood and amount of inspiration? yes definitely #batman #mlb #mlb crossover #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #Jason gets panic attacks but he tries to hide it fight me #also anyone else worried about how mari will interact with the fam she hasn't met yet? cus i am ngl still gotta figure that whole parade ou #thanks for reading #hope yall enjoyed~#also I just saw maribat made the top 100 lmao confusing the everloving fuck out of people is my jam #i hope we don't get hate we've been a pretty non-toxic fandom up until this point like srsly man we're nice don't hate us

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editorofeverything · 4 years

Text

Day 6? of going through my drafts I never finished or posted because ✧Low Self-Esteem✧

Except I started going through my fanfic folder... and getting really into the plotlines I had going on there... and I may have started completing them all of a sudden?? I won’t question it because I’m afraid the will to write will suddenly go away so here is my now complete first part of my Daminette fic I wrote like a year ago?

So, without further ado, here is four times the Ladybug magic teleported Marinette to where she would be safest, and the one time she was already there—Part One.

When Tim Drake started his nightly shift in the Batcave with a pot of coffee in hand and a research project in the works, he didn’t expect a magical portal to spit out a ladybug themed superhero at the Batmobile with a cut off scream.

He froze as the swirling red portal disappeared and the hero that made a dent in the Batmobile stopped moving. He reached over and pushed the SOS button that would alert the others that something was wrong before grabbing his coffee mug as a weapon and heading over towards the girl.

She was small, was his first discovery. Probably shorter and younger than Damian, and yet she was wearing a bright red suit over her curled body and a mask over her closed eyes. She was hurt, and Tim didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t slept in over a week and the brain cells that were left were combusting at the sight of a child crumbled on the floor after playing the hero game.

He sucked in a breath and froze at the puddle of blood starting to pool under her head. The crashing of glass broke him out of his stupor and he barely noticed his favorite mug broken on the floor beside him before he threw himself at the girl’s side and eased her onto her back so he could look her over. All he could do was breathe a sigh of relief when he could feel her pulse beating weakly. He tried her mask first, and, after discovering that it wouldn’t budge from her skin, he realized that whatever magic she possessed would prevent him from checking her for injuries.

He brushed her hair out of her face and saw the bruises and scrapes all over before he checked her head. Her lips parted in a small cry when he touched a tender spot and he cursed at his red coated fingers when he pulled away.

“What the hell is it now, Drake? Do you even know what time it is?” Jason walked over with Alfred on his tail and rested his hand on Tim’s shoulder, startling him. “What’s up-? Who the fuck is that?”

“She teleported here. She’s… Jay, she’s hurt really bad and she’s some type of magic so I don’t even know how hurt she is and-” A beep interrupted his rant and they both looked for the source on her.

“Alfred, get the first aid kit and get the others in here.”

“Of course, Master Jason.”

“All I’m saying, Father, is that maybe if we put him through a rehab system, these ridiculous late night emergencies would decrease.”

“They’re not all hallucinations, Damian. We haven’t had an incident since last month.”

“Until now,” Damian huffed as he and his father ran into Alfred who was carrying a first aid kit, some blankets, and some towels.

“Was Tim injured, Alfred?”

“No, Master Bruce. There seems to be an intruder in the Batcave. I believe Master Tim and Master Jason are currently trying to assess her for injuries, but it seems she is of the magical variety and her suit is giving them some trouble.”

Damian was already sprinting to the cave while Bruce grabbed some of the items from Alfred and walked with him to the group of his kids kneeling around a small figure on the ground.

Damian saw the dent in the Batmobile before he saw the girl and actually stopped in surprise. “She did that?”

Bruce followed behind him and made a surprised noise as well before moving towards Tim and Jason’s side. “What happened?”

“A portal opened up and she was thrown into the Batmobile. She’s been unconscious the whole time. Her head is bleeding and I wouldn’t be surprised if she has a concussion. I can tell she’s hurt more, but we can’t take off her suit to check.”

Jason placed a towel under her head and she moaned at the movement, her eyes fluttering.

“She has these earrings that have been beeping for the past three minutes. I think they might be where she gets her powers from. They seem to be timing out.”

A final beeping noise echoed throughout the cave before a bright pink shine encased her body, revealing a small girl. She had blackish-blue hair tied in falling pigtails, pale skin that was speckled with bruises and lacerations. Her clothes looked impeccable, though the blood from her wounds was starting to soak into her red sundress.

“What the actual fuck is that?” Jason spotted a round, red figure moving on the girls collarbone.

The bat family took in the little red bug as it sat up and shook its head before seeming to notice the girl she was on.

“Marinette!” the thing spoke and Tim clutched Damian’s arm with an urgency that startled him.

“Please tell me you heard that thing talk.” Damian patted Tim’s hand lightly.

“You are not alone in hearing the kwami talk, Master Tim.” Alfred straightened up at the sight of the mystical being fretting over her charge’s unresponsive body.

“Kwami?” Bruce muttered under his breath, looking to Alfred for answers.

“Tikki, Goddess of Creation,” Alfred pressed his fist into his hand and bowed towards her, “how may we assist you?”

Tikki turned her wide eyes to Alfred and floated up to him. “Please help her! She’s more hurt than I can heal, and the fight is still waging on! Without Ladybug, the entire team will fail!”

Bruce straightened up at that and turned to his sons. “Jason, Tim, keep pressure on her head wound and wrap up any minor lacerations. She’s lost too much blood. Damian, come with me so we can get some more supplies for Miss Marinette.”

“Father, a word, please?” Bruce paused as soon as they exited the cave and were heading for the kitchen with a list of things Alfred told them to grab like water, cookies, and something light for Marinette when she would wake up. Damian had gotten better with being open and calm with his family for a while, but it still took time to unlearn years of life being taught one way for so long.

“What is it, Damian?”

“I… I know everyone’s concerned about the girl—I am too—but has anyone thought of what will happen if she wakes up? Will she recognize the Batcave? Will we reveal our identities to her, especially since she’s been forcefully revealed to us? What if she doesn’t wake up? How will we explain how a foreign girl ended up in Gotham?”

“These are all good questions, Damian, and I’m glad you’re able to share your concerns with me. In this matter, though… I believe we’ll just take Alfred’s que for right now. If at any point you feel uncomfortable with your identity being discovered when Miss Marinette wakes up, then you can leave and we’ll fill you in later.”

Damien’s silence carried into the kitchen as Bruce started handing things to him to take back.

“I’ll go back,” Damien finally said as Bruce pulled the cookie jar off the cabinet, planning on taking the whole thing. Who knew how much those kwamis could eat? Bruce certaintly didn’t, and the fact they were magic too didn’t help him any. “I think… Alfred usually knows best, and I trust his judgement… As well as the rest of the family’s. I want to make sure the girl is okay firsthand, and we can go from there.”

Bruce felt a wave of affection and pride towards his son, and wished Damian would look him in the eyes, but he would settle with placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Then, let’s go give them a hand, son.”

Bruce and Damian joined the group quickly enough to arrive just as Tikki and Alfred were starting their own conversation while Jason and Tim assisted the girl. Damian stood with his father, both with their guard up in case someone could possibly track Marinette and Tikki down. Magic, they agreed before they entered the room, is a fickle thing, and they didn’t want to take any chances of their family, or their sudden patient, to be caught off guard.

“You were a previous Miraculous holder, weren’t you? I can sense your bright soul. Who was your chosen?” Tikki asked, hovering just over Marinette’s collarbone. Alfred didn’t know if it was because she was protective of the girl or injured herself, but he felt it too rude to ask directly of the tiny god.

“Duusu, the Peafowl Miraculous of Emotion. We were separated after a year of us working together, and I never knew what happened to him or Nooroo, who was taken as well.” Alfred could tell Master Bruce and the boysr were listening intently on their conversation, but wouldn’t interrupt. Detectives they might be, but Alfred raised Master Bruce, and they, in turn, raised the boys to have manners. He could sense their questions piling up, but was confident they would save them for after they delt with Marinette’s most pressing wounds.

“Unfortunately, they ended up in the wrong hands. It’s why Ladybug and Chat Noir were called together in the first place. Marinette has made excellent work in finding and defeating Hawkmoth, but there has been too many obstacles in her way lately. She’s been through a lot…” Tikki turned on to face Marinette and Alfred was overcome at the overwhelming sense of sadness emanating from Tikki.

“We will do all we can for her,” he choked out, and shook his head at Jason and Tim, who paused at the catch in Alfred’s voice. “For such a young child to be a holder though…” Tikki sat on Alfred’s shoulder as Tim and Jason started wrapping Marinette’s head gently and patched up some larger cuts she had on her side. Her ribs were likely broken if the mottled bruised running down her side were anything to go by, and her ankle seemed to be sprained, if not broken as well.

“The previous Guardian made a rushed decision on who to choose for the Miraculous. It just so happens that Marinette is the one soul in this lifetime that resonates with mine. Despite her age, she has become one of the best Ladybugs I’ve had the honor of assisting, and she is now the Guardian of the Miraculous Box as well.”

“Guardian? She’s a Guardian as well? How could that be?”

“The previous Guardian’s identity was compromised by Hawkmoth, the villain with the butterfly miraculous. He’s been terrorizing Paris for almost three years now. Marinette had to step in as Guardian or the Miraculous Box would be lost.”

“Tikki…” The girl winced away from Jason and Tim’s hands and she whimpered.

“Tikki…” Bruce began in a steely tone, “how old is Miss Marinette?”

“She’s turning eighteen in a few months. I know she’s young, and I hate to put so much on her shoulders, but she’s the only one who can be Ladybug, and competent enough to be Guardian. She’s intelligent, strong emotionally and physically, and her heart is pure. She is the embodiment of what Ladybug is supposed to be.” After that speech, Damian took a breath and knelt down between Todd and Drake to assist. They still didn’t know everything, which could be dangerous for them, but Damian felt that if he were to take a chance on anyone, it would be this girl that was worthy of so much power and responsibility.

As soon as Damian brushed his fingers against her wrist to check for a break, however, the girl suddenly seized up and Damian jolted his hand away. Tikki gave him a strange look before floating over to her chosen.

“Tikki!” Marinette shot up, instantly collapsing with her head pressed into her knees with a groan. Tikki nudged Marinette cheek with her head reassuringly.

“It’s ok, Marinette. We’re safe for now. Please lie down or you’ll hurt yourself more.”

“Safe…? But where are we? School?”

“I believe that a Ladybug power was activated when Mayura cornered you. It teleported you to where you would be safest in the world.”

“Safest?” Marinette looked around and seemed to panic at the group of men surrounding her. “Oh my god, who are these people?! Did they see me transform? Tikki, you’re supposed to stay hidden!”

“Excuse me, Miss Marinette, but you can rest assured that you and Tikki are safe here.” Alfred rested a gentle hand on her arm, and she immediately relaxed. “I know first-hand the challenges of being a Miraculous holder, and we will do everything in our power to assist you if need be.”

For a moment, Marinette seemed paralyzed. She was looking at Alfred unfocusedly, as if she was seeing right through him. Suddenly, she met his eyes and started speaking a language only the three could understand.

“You have the soul of emotion and light. Touched by one who has been stolen and corrupted. You have my trust and thanks for your assistance, young Peafowl.” Marinette stated in an ancient, unfamiliar language before blinking out of her haze and nearly falling to one side if Damian hadn’t grabbed her and kept her propped up.

“Sorry,” she blinked slowly and focused on Alfred again, “I’m still getting used to that.”

“Your trust in me is an honor, my lady Guardian, but I doubt I can be considered very young anymore,” Alfred said with some humor in his voice. Marinette smiled warmly at him and, with the help of Damian, Jason, and Tim, eased back onto a few blankets and some towels to cushion her beating head.

“Damian, pass some water over,” Tim asked, still checking over Marinette’s head. Damian did so, being uncharacteristically silent during the entire conversation.

“My head is fine,” Marinette said in a thick accent. “I believe I hit it after I have been teleported, not during the battle.”

“You speak English very well, Miss,” Bruce praised, leading to Jason cooing at her blush.

“Ah, well, it’s important to be able to communicate with tourist during akuma attacks. I’m afraid I haven’t had much practice, though. And it’s definitely not as good as your French.” Marinette gave a shy, kind smile to Alfred.

“What did I hit my head on, anyways? I’ve been thrown before, but I’ve never hit anything so hard that I’ve passed out and detransformed.”

The resounding silence echoed throughout the room and Marinette took a breath before sitting up properly and keeping her gaze steady at the ground.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. Don’t even tell me your names.”

“Miss?”

“I’m a superhero fighting an evil villain with magic jewelry, I know the awkward ‘I have a secret I can’t tell you’ silence. I haven’t exactly been on this side of the conversation much though. I understand. Just let me catch my breath and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“’Catch your breath?’ You have a concussion! And broken ribs! You can’t fight like this!” Jason was getting too worked up, but this was a child.

“Yes, I can. Just give me a minute. I’ve fought in worse conditions, and I’ll be better once I can reverse the damage.”

“Reverse the damage?” Damian said, and was almost disappointed when Marinette didn’t look at him directly. She wasn’t looking at any of them, except for Alfred, in the face. Deniability, most likely, but definitely not what he was initially expecting when he decided to stay with his family despite the chances of being recognized.

“Tikki?” Marinette said, and rested her head against the Batmobile while she started poking at her wounds.

“I give Marinette many powers. One of which is the power of the Miraculous Ladybug. It reverts ay damage done by a kwami instantaneously. In fact, the dent in your motorized vehicle should be back to normal as well once the battle is won.”

“Tikki, I need to know how the fight is going. Be stealthy and take a look, and grab Khalki. I’ll need him to teleport back to Paris. I don’t want to risk using whatever power got me here in the first place.”

“I’ll be right back!” Tikki turned towards Alfred and patted him gently on the cheek. “I leave my chosen in your hands, Alfred. Look after her, please.”

“Of course, Tikki.”

“Thank you, young Peafowl.” Alfred returned her smile instantly before Tikki disappeared through the floor.

“So, let’s play ‘Do I Have a Concussion 20 Questions!’” Jason announced after he and Tim propped her up between them, leaning against the dent in the Batmobile.

Damian sat in front of them while Bruce and Alfred had moved over to the Batcomputer to try and do some research into the Miraculous themselves.

Marinette giggled and focused herself from closing her eyes by chipping at her black nail polish.

“So question number one: what is your name?” Tim was holding the broken handle of his coffee mug in his fist and was talking into it like it was a microphone.

“Marinette, but you already knew that,” Marinette said in a teasing tone.

“True, but this is if you know your name, not for us, little lady,” Jason bumped her shoulder with his gently and she giggled again.

They went through a few questions that were vague enough not to uncover her identity completely, but still show that she had her wits about her. Where are you from? Paris, of course. Do you go to public, private, or home school? Public! I hate homeschooling. Do you live with your parents? Yeah… oh I left my phone with my stuff at school. They’re probably worried sick. Do you have a job?

“Oh!” Marinette suddenly exclaimed, jolting where she sat. “Maman and Papa are going to be so disappointed if I can’t get home in time to watch the bakery! They’re going on a date tonight, and we have three orders to fill… I wonder if I can get Chloe to push their reservation…”

Jason shared an apologetic look with Tim when they realized how much she just let out. Damian was alarmed. She didn’t even seem to notice how much she just gave away about herself during her rambling.

“Why are you telling us all of this?” Damian finally asked after a moment of silence. He didn’t understand this girl. She was in a strange place, surrounded by strangers, and willing to avoid looking at them or around to keep them comfortable with their secrets, and the she goes and basically tells them where she lives.

“I know it might not makes sense, but as Ladybug and Guardian, I can sense things most people can’t, and I’ve learned to trust myself above all. My powers brought me here because I’m safe, and I can sense that you all have pure souls. You two even have souls saturated in Destruction energy… The Black Cat’s energy. It balances my own soul out well… How did you come across a Lazurus pit?”

Jason and Damian jolt and look at each other. Bruce was at Damian’s side in the next moment. “How do you know about the Lazurus pits?” He asked in a cautious tone, though Marinette didn’t seem to notice. She was still picking at her nail polish and Damian had a moment of irritation at the flaky mess until he realized she was probably doing it to keep her focus off of them.

“I am Guardian, and Tikki’s chosen. I know everything there is to know about the Miraculous, though I only recall the information when I needs to be used. When the Ladybug and Cat’s miraculous are combined, the holder may make a wish. One of those wishes was to be immortal. The Lazurus pits were created out of that wish, but the price was heavy. To manipulate a soul into bearing life after one should die… it leaves a mark—mentally, physically, emotionally… Most of the Lazurus pits were destroyed to restore balance, but some still remain in this world to keep the balance of what was already taken as its price. If they were all to be destroyed, something else in the world would have to be as well to keep balance.”

The resounding silence in the room felt suffocating, but Marinette just smiled reassuringly and brushed her dress down. Damian suddenly noticed that he felt… calmer in her presence than he usually would with someone he met barely twenty minutes ago.

Marinette’s voice brought him out of his thoughts once more. “Tikki is coming back.”

The kwami suddenly appeared a moment later with another one right behind her. Marinette smile and held out her hand.

“Hello, Khalki.”

“My Lady,” Khalki purred, floating around her hand.

“The fight is still going, Marinette. Chat Noir and Queen Bee are playing decoy and distraction. I informed them that you had been transported away for your safety and that we would be present for the fight soon. Hawkmoth and Mayura can’t end the fight and get what they want without Ladybug present, and Chat Noir and Queen Bee are smart enough not to let them leave or capture them while you’re gone. Both sides are playing it safe and waiting for your return.” During Tikki’s rundown, Marinette slowly but surely began to stand on her own, leaning against the Batmobile.

“Well, let’s give them an entrance they won’t forget. Are they all still at the Tower?”

“Yes. Chat Noir has followed your direction to keep them centered there well.”

“Good. Tikki, spots on. Khalki, Tikki, merge.” The family all stood and watched in amazement and shock as Marinette glowed that same pink hue before the red and black spotted heroine stood before them.

“Your injuries are still there.” Damian broke the silence to his family’s surprise. “You should be careful and finish your battle quickly to minimize your injuries until you can heal.”

Marinette seemed surprised, focusing on his shirt, the closest she’s gotten to looking his in the eyes the entire time she had been there. He almost… wanted her to. He wanted to look directly into her bright blue eyes and let her see him as he saw her… He shook himself out of that embarrassing train of thought just as Ladybug said something that caused a portal to appear.

“Thank you for your help…” Marinette nodded to them and looked one last time at Alfred. “I hope we meet again, young Peafowl.”

“As do I, my lady Guardian,” he bowed.

Ladybug turned and was suddenly gone. The only evidence of her being there was the broken remains of Tim’s broken mug and the huge dent in the Batmobile.

“Well, I’m going to sleep,” Tim announced to the room. “Someone else can take night shift tonight and someone can also tell me this wasn’t all some fever dream in the morning.”

Half an hour later, Damian, who had volunteered to stay up and finish the nightly watch in order to gather more information of the Miraculous and Marinette, noticed Tim’s mug appear sitting perfectly on the floor half full of the sludge he must’ve been drinking before it had broken and the dent in the Batmobile disappear in a wave of ladybugs.

Damian smirked at the knowledge that she and her team had won their battle, and that, if these items were fixed, then so were Marinette’s injuries. He ignored the part of him that felt… proud at the knowledge of her win, and happy knowing she was healed.

Damian grabbed the mug off the floor and took it with him to drop off in the kitchen while he searched for a snack. All his searching through all the bakeries in Paris was starting to make him hungry, especially the one he left on the Batcomputer. He would have to see if the Dupain-Cheng Bakery catered internationally, or if the woman posing with her husband in the owner’s bio passed down her black-blue hair to any daughters his age.

UPDATE: Here’s the link to the next part and the AO3 link for anyone who wants to continue!

Next - AO3 Link

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