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hellishere7980 · 11 months

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Isabella Martha Wayne

IMW

CHAPTER 1

Isabella Martha Wayne

Father: Bruce Wayne

Mother: Alora Furan (Dead)

Born on: 12-7-XXX1

Blood Type: O+

12-7-XXX1

Once upon a time in the bustling city of Gotham, Bruce Wayne, also known as Batman, welcomed a precious addition to his life—a beautiful baby girl named Isabella. From the moment Isabella entered the world, Bruce swore to protect her, to shield her from the darkness that haunted Gotham's streets.

As Isabella grew, she became the center of attention for her brothers—Richard, and Jason. Alfred, Bruce's trusted confidant and butler, had been with him since the beginning, serving as a pillar of support. Richard, also known as Nightwing, and Jason, who had taken on the mantle of Robin, had fought alongside Batman, battling villains and protecting Gotham.

13-7-XXX1

Bruce came home with a newborn in his arms protecting her against the cold winds. As he entered Dick and Jason came running into the hallway.

Dick- What the hell B? You got a call just ran off!

Jason- Yeah… What are you holding?

Isabella starts crying due to the shouting.

Dick/Jason- Holy hell! Is that a baby?

Alfred- Master Bruce… good heavens! What is that- is that a child you have there Master Bruce?

Bruce- Alfred, boys, meet Isabella Martha Wayne, my daughter.

Alfred-Master Bruce would you please explain this… development?

Jason- Where did she come from?

Bruce- Just let me put her in the bed then I’ll explain

Bruce carefully laid Isabella Martha Wayne in her crib, ensuring she was comfortable and safe before turning his attention back to his bewildered family. As he gathered them in the living room, the atmosphere was filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce began to recount the events that had led to Isabella's arrival in their lives.

Bruce- I had received a call from a hospital telling me that I had a daughter and her mother had abandoned her after telling them the father’s name, mine. When I got there, they confirmed after a few tests.

Jason's face softened, and he glanced at the crib down the hallway, where Isabella's cries had subsided, thanks to Alfred's soothing presence.

Jason-So, she's... our sister?

He asked, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and wonder.

Bruce nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Dick, always the one to process information quickly, spoke up, his concern now replaced with a protective instinct.

Dick-What do we need to do, Bruce? How can we help?

Bruce's gratitude swelled as he looked at his two adopted sons, standing before him with unwavering support.

Bruce- First and foremost, we need to ensure Isabella's well-being. We'll need to adjust our routines, provide her with love and care, and keep her safe from any dangers that may come our way.

Alfred (ever the pillar of wisdom)- Master Bruce, I suggest we reach out to trusted professionals who can guide us through the legal processes and help establish Isabella's rightful place in our family."

Spending time with Isabella, they were immediately smitten by her innocent charm. Her sparkling blue eyes, reminiscent of her father's, seemed to hold a world of wonders within them. They showered her with love and affection, each of them coming up with their own unique nicknames—cupcake, bluebell, Isa, Bella, and pixie pop.

12-11-XXX2

It had been shortly after he had returned from patrol. The door to his room had opened and tear-filled blue eyes stared at him, he could see her clinging on to her soft toy. He got up and walked towards her, she was still lingering in the doorway. Kneeling to reach her height he asks softly, “nightmare?”

She nods, tears still streaming down her face.

He looks at her unsure of what to do.

“Would you like to go back to sleep?” he asks quietly.

She shakes her head vehemently.

He still is unsure of what to do. Acting on a random whim he stands and picks her up. She clings to him and he definitely doesn’t marvel over how she fits perfectly in his arms.

He takes her to the library and picks out The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, sitting on his favourite armchair he seats her on his lap and starts to read to her, “Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy…”

As he read the words of "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe" to her, the little girl nestled comfortably on his lap, her tears slowly subsiding. His voice filled the air, transporting them both to the magical world of Narnia, where adventure and wonders awaited. Each sentence he spoke seemed to have a calming effect on her, as if the story itself possessed the power to chase away the remnants of her nightmare.

As the tale unfolded, the young girl's imagination began to take flight. Her tear-streaked face transformed into a canvas of curiosity and fascination. She listened intently, her wide blue eyes shining with wonderment, completely engrossed in the enchanting narrative. The man couldn't help but be captivated by her innocent enthusiasm, his heart warming at the sight.

Together, they ventured through the wardrobe into a wintry Narnia, where they encountered the majestic lion, Aslan, and witnessed the valiant efforts of the Pevensie children to overthrow the White Witch's tyrannical rule. With each turn of the page, the man's voice grew more animated, his tone reflecting the bravery, friendship, and sacrifices depicted in the story.

As the final chapters approached, the little girl's eyelids grew heavy, exhaustion finally taking hold. She leaned against his chest, her small body relaxed in his embrace, as he continued reading. He couldn't bring himself to stop the story prematurely; it was as if the act of storytelling had become their own private refuge from the world's troubles.

When he reached the end, he closed the book gently, his voice fading into silence. The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, the remnants of the tale lingering in the air. Then, he looked down at the slumbering child in his arms, her soft breaths creating a soothing rhythm against his chest.

Carefully, he rose from the armchair, cradling her with tenderness, and made his way back to her room. The moon cast a gentle glow through the window, illuminating the path ahead. As he approached her bed, he paused, hesitating for a moment before placing her down as gently as he could.

Tucking her in, he watched her sleep peacefully, her face now free from the worry that had plagued her before. He couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness toward her, a desire to shield her from any harm. It was a feeling he had never experienced before, yet it felt surprisingly natural.

Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, whispering, "Goodnight, little one." He lingered for a moment, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face, before quietly retreating from the room.

Him reading to her becomes an event. She drags Dick into it too, whenever he isn’t with his Teen Titans in New York that is and Jason. Alfred provides them with milk and cookies and he reads to them every night before patrol. They stop once she falls asleep and they take her up to bed before patrol.

About a year after they start this routine, he returns from patrol to find a crying Marinette in his room. She just cries harder once she sees him. He holds her until she falls asleep resolving to talk to her in the morning.

He takes her to the cave the next morning, after breakfast, with Dick and tells her about Batman and Robin. When they head back to the manor she heads to her room and doesn’t come out before sundown (Alfred took her lunch to her room and had somehow talked her into eating). He spends the whole day worrying about if telling her was the wrong thing to do. She comes down for dinner and after dinner she still drags them to the library. She doesn’t fall asleep like she usually does, instead when he completes a chapter Marinette asks them to wait, runs out and returns, panting, a few minutes later with something colourful in her hand. She then hands it to them. It's a thread with beads on it. She hands Dick two of these, one has black and blue and the other is purple, black and yellow, Jason’s red-green-yellow and his has blue, purple and black.

She grins up at them and says cheerfully.

Isa- lucky charms. Jason’s is like Robin, Dick’s Nightwing and yours is Batman.”

“And the other one?” Dick asks

“Batgirl,” she exclaims cheerfully.

Bruce as always is amazed at her never-ending optimism, kindness and hopefulness. Dick offers her a sunshine smile of his own, hugs her and says, “Thank you Sunshine.”

Once she lets go of Dick she looks at him with her big blue eyes, and Bruce ruffles her hair and gives her a smile.

B- I’ll carry it with me at all times.

Isa smiles wider (something Bruce wasn’t aware was possible) and says goodnight before skipping back to her room.

#marinette dupen chang #maribat #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #richard grayson #bio!dad bruce wayne

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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Useful Part 2

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

—* — * — * —* —*

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

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

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

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

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

It really cemented just how far he had come.

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

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

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

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

They watched as Marinette shook her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marinette gulped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—*—*—*—*—*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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maxdark158 · 3 years

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Wooo! Writing shoes are back on and i’m actually really happy that i’m finally able to write again. This chapter is a bit shorter than normal but the next two are heavy hitters so it’s alright

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

Damian typically liked patrol.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop under the cover of the night was always exhilarating. Parkour just wasn’t the same without a belt of weapons and a costume, it was always a good way to burn of excess energy and get his mind focused.

Sure, it was his job to protect Gotham so he couldn’t be joking around, but he had to admit he liked the physical activity. He took his job seriously but taking it seriously didn’t mean it had to be unenjoyable.

Patrols were a time when he didn’t feel constrained, didn’t have to play a part or meet expectations. Nothing could ruin the cool gotham city nights on the rooftops.

Well, almost nothing.

After all, Damian’s father had the insane habit of adopting shitty ass kids for his crime fighting ring. Which meant Damian had this awful sickness called siblings. And the only thing that could ruin his nice patrols were the chortling of the other costumed idiots.

The worst nights were when all his brothers went.

Every. Single. Brother.

And what made it worse on top of that?

When they had something they felt they could tease him about. And when they were all teasing him about the same thing at the same time.

He was going to snap and stab one of them. His father might be anti murder but he didn’t have to know…

Damian shook his head. Bad thoughts.

“Thinking of your Angel?” Drake seemed to have a death wish and Damian was all about granting fucking wishes right now.

“Why do you all insist on being here?” he grumbled to himself. Because really they didn’t have to be. No bat signal, probably a few minor purse snatching crimes that one or two could handle easily. Why were they all in costume? Take the night off, stop fucking bothering him.

Annoying Fuck #1 snorted next to him when he said that, clearly not planning to be reasonable. “What, don’t like us teasing you about your Angel, demon spawn?” Todd snorted.

Damian ignored him. “Batman, shouldn’t he not be allowed to patrol with us?” His father could at least tell Todd to go home. Then when his back was turned he wouldn’t witness what happened to Dra-

“C’mon, I haven’t killed anyone and I want to hang out with my little bro! It’s not every day that Robin gets his first crush!”

Annoying Fuck #2, Drake, nearly slipped and fell from laughter.

Damian’s face warmed under his mask. “I do not have a crush you-“

“Focus on the job,” As always, father was on his side. “You can make fun of Robin later when we aren’t patrolling,” the traitorous bastard added.

Damian didn’t want to be the fucking blood son anymore.

He glared at Batman, scoffing to himself. “Then if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my own route.”

“I’ll go with you little bird!”

Fucking fuck fuck.

Because of fucking course Grayson suggested that. And of fucking course Damian momentarily forgot that Grayson was back and patrolling too, leaving him unprepared for the suggestion. Grayson’s uncharacteristic quietness was the worst thing at times.

Fucking hell why’d they all have to be here tonight?

Proving himself to truly be a traitor, his father nodded to Grayson’s suggestion. So Damian, previously wanting to get away with his brothers and dream of murdering them alone, now had a tagalong stopping such a fun activity.

At this rate he’d have frown lines at 23.

Damian went off, not waiting for Grayson. He knew he’d easily keep pace though, so the halfhearted dream of being fully alone wouldn’t happen.

“Robin, wait here a second.” Oh fuck no. That’s Grayson’s I want to talk voice. Too bad for him because Damian did not want to talk. At all. Especially about anything Grayson might want to talk about. Because Grayson wanted to talk about French Angels and Riddlers and Spars and-

“Robin, are you listening?”

“No, Nightwing, I’m not.” Damian stared at him and raised a brow. “What is there to talk about?”

Grayson huffed, annoyed. Good. Fucker deserves it after what he and the others put him through these last few days. “I was asking if you actually had a crush or not. They’re teasing you but I’ve been,” at WE all day, Damian knew, “busy all day. I can’t tell if they’re making something out of nothing and I’d rather hear it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

There was a time when Damian would have said he wasn’t a horse. When he was younger, he didn’t know idioms and expressions that well. He considered saying it now, to try and change the subject, but he also knew Grayson didn’t let things go easily. Which wasn’t very good.

Because Damian wasn’t sure how to answer.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to answer it, even to himself. His weedkiller wouldn’t arrive for a few more fucking days, he wasn’t prepared for this.

Though maybe that in of itself showed the answer to Grayson’s question…

Fucking fuck fuck.

He shook himself from those thoughts. Grayson was waiting on an answer and he didn’t have time to get lost in thought about his Ang- Marinette. Marinette.

Damian settled for glaring at Grayson. “My private life is not any business of yours.”

Grayson snorted. “Suure little bird. She’s one of the French students, right?”

“Don’t say that right now,” he snapped. Not while they were in costume, not while they could be listened to. “Focus on the job, Nightwing.”

Grayson put his hands up in surrender. “Race you to Wayne Enterprises?”

Damian didn’t wait for an answer, jumping to the next roof and making his way as fast as he could. He was determined to beat his adopted brother’s sorry ass, not that he cared about winning. It wasn’t that he was competitive, he simply didn’t want to continue this discussion. That was all. That’s fucking it.

Grayson laughed behind him, and the race began.

-----

They were taking a break near the Batcave. No activity yet, but they stayed suited up incase that changed. The night was still young, after all.

Batman instructed them to meet there through the comms. Damian and Grayson, further from the cave, made it there last. Grayson luckily hadn’t brought up and other conversation during patrol, and Damian hoped that would hold ou-

The other two idiots were waiting like the fucking lunatics they are.

Fucking fuck fuck.

“Did the demon spawn tell you about his precious Angel?” Todd clearly decided that he would die in seven days by saying that, big dumb fucking grin on his face and hair messy from removing his dumbass helmet.

“What was her name again? Mary?” Drake knew her name and was just being a little bitch. Damian decided not to give him the fucking bait, going over to a place to sit-

“Marie something, French and I think with brown eyes?”

“They’re blue,” Damian bit out. Fuck, their stupidity had infected him, he spoke before thinking. Was there a cure? He doubted it as they were all still stupid and have been for years. Fucking fuck the last thing he needs is to be on their level of idiocy.

“Right, right,” Jason’s wolfish smug grin was showing exactly how much of a fucking bitch he planned to be. Damian wanted to kick his face in.

“Little bird was pretty tight lipped on patrol,” Grayson said lightly as if he didn’t just stab him in the back.

“It’d be rude to kiss and tell,” Damian was going to strangle Drake with his own two hands.

“I haven’t kissed her!” He snapped again. His face was very warm, did he get sunburned somehow?? “We’re friends you imbeciles!”

“Friends that hold hands,” Drake pointed out.

“And tour Gotham together, alone.” Todd shortened his life span even more.

“And invite each other over to their house, where they never invited anyone before, to eat lunch.”

“Look how red his face is!”

“Little bird probably even planned to buy her ice cream! That’s why they were there when the Riddler showed up!”

“I’ll bed demon spawn-“

Damian stormed out of the room. Blood was roaring in his ears and he needed to- he just. He fucking needed fucking out of here. Away from those fuckers. Or he’d actually follow through with his thinly veiled threats and he’d rather not get blood on his costume.

He hated siblings with a passion. If his father ever considered adopting again Damian would fill all of his shoes with centipedes and rip the third seam out of every pair of pants he owned.

I don’t have a crush on her. I don’t. She’s wonderful and amazing, an angel, but I don’t like Ang- Marinette like that. She’s a friend I made and that is all.

Damian grabbed some throwing knives for target practice. Not on his brothers this time. He wanted to clear his head without those fucks nearby.

He threw one. The aim was a bit off, and he frowned. His aim was impeccable, why was he off right now? Why is having a crush on Marinette a bad thing?

No. He shook his head. He didn’t want to think those fucking thoughts right now. He threw another, harder. It went deep into the target, still off by more than he was happy with. He growled lowly.

Ange- Marinette is pure and good and wonderful. I was raised by assassins and I can’t completely shake their ideals.

Another knife. Damian’s grip on them tightened. Why was he missing?

I’m a vigilante and Damian Wayne. I have blood on my hands and money to my name and she wants to make her fashion empire herself.

Damian got more knives. His frustration was growing with each thought. They kept coming back as he tried to dismiss them, kept distracting him from the target.

She’s a talented designer. She’s incredibly smart, knows how to fight. Beautiful, dark hair and freckles and blue eyes.

Another knife sailed through the air.

I’m not anything of note without my last name or costume. She’s amazing without needing either.

Damian walked over and began taking the knives off the targets. Maybe they were fucking with his aim. He should get rid of them. Focus on removing them. Stop thinking about her.

But no matter how many fucking times he tried to redirect his thoughts, they came back.

She doesn’t have to tolerate me.

She’s wonderful and innocent.

She doesn’t deserve to be dragged down.

I don’t want to hurt her.

Damian’s hands were on his face, pushing at his eyes and trying to stop the thoughts. His Ange- Marinette was wonderful he knew that, but he didn’t think the other things. Not constantly anyway, he helped people as Robin. He was his father’s blood son. He wasn’t unhappy with himself.

But that doesn’t mean I’m good enough for Marinette.

He grabbed a knife from the table he set them on and threw it blindly, as if throwing the thought itself out and away.

It hit the center perfectly.

Damian took a deep breath. Everything was fucking overwhelming right now, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

But it seemed he’d have to.

Fucking fuck fuck.

Okay, okay. He… He might have a crush on Marinette.

Admitting it, oddly, seemed to lift a weight off his shoulders. Damian took another deep breath.

He has a crush on Marinette. But he values her a friend very much. He isn’t going to do anything about his crush, because she deserves someone as amazing and angelic as her, and Damian isn’t that.

But that’s okay. Because he already loves being her friend. And his weedkiller isn’t too far away.

Damian calmed down. He threw some more knives. They were all on target.

She’ll always be my friend and Angel, if I have any say in it. I’ll make sure whoever she choses is worthy of her.

Damian had just thrown his third when his father spoke through their comms. “Poison Ivy sighting at Gotham Hotel.”

The six words turned Damian’s recently found peaceful mood onto its head. Ice water poured into his and filled his limbs with dread. His chest was tight, as if someone was grabbing at his lungs and they were closing. The weeds of worry were strangling him.

That’s my Angel’s hotel.

He had dropped her off there with Alfred just earlier that day. She was staying there with her class. They were supposed to be safe and protected, she was supposed to be safe and protected.

Damian’s knives hit the ground but his feet hit it faster as he ran through the cave to the exit. Ivy best not lay a finger on her or she would lose her entire arm.

His Angel wouldn’t get hurt, not if he could help it.

#daminette #maribat #Marinette #Damian Wayne #maridami #damimari #marinettexdamian #damian x marinette #miraculous ladybug #batman #batboys #batbrothers

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nobloodneeded · 2 years

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Batman and Robin (2011) #20 synopsis: Batman takes Red Hood on a special trip to take down mercenaries who had previously accepted a contract to assassinate his now-dead son and prevent them from ever doing the same again. They do so, only for it to additionally be revealed that Bruce has taken Jason to the spot where he had first died as Robin in the hopes of understanding some way to bring Damian back as Jason had been. Jason is traumatized to have his wounds reopened by his father figure so callously and with such seeming disregard. Bruce reinforces the disregard by focusing on ways to bring back his dead son, consequences be damned to the one standing before him, supporting him prior to this. They begin to beat on each other: Jason out of - a contextually valid - betrayal and hurt and Bruce to feel something after the death of Damian. Jason “wins” the fight, rightfully - within context - abandoning Bruce, who, while still standing, is defeated on several levels.

How I think it SHOULD have gone: Almost all elements the same, except the ending. Batman takes Red Hood to Ethiopia to rain hell down on the would-have-been assassins.

Jason makes a half-joke that clearly the red apple didn’t fall far from the bat-tree with Batman’s current loose-canon fury. The joke runs dry when a merc attempts a kill shot to the distracted Red Hood when his scope is blocked by a flurry of movement and a frightening black gauntlet before it smashes through, crushing the face behind it. Batman begins pulverizing the defeated mercenary who tried to take down another of his kids - not this time, not again, never again, not when he already lost him once - until Red Hood calls him off. Batman clicks his tongue, a recent trait he had taken from his fallen son, dropping the bloodied, unconscious body of the assassin unceremoniously.

Red Hood comments that they’re finished here, it seems, to which Batman replies not quite yet, there’s just one more place. He brings Jason to the moment of the worst experience of his life. A broken Jason gazes in betrayal at his father figure forcing him through this, threatening to leave. A broken Bruce now grips his departing forearm tightly and, though empathetic to his son’s plight, grits out a “Please...try to remember, anything.” Jason pulls his arm away, yelling how he can’t believe he thought for a moment that this was a way for Bruce to cope, to reconnect with his remaining kids, but no, he wouldn’t be Batman without an ulterior motive, he shouldn’t have expected him to care about what this would do to him, not when his precious real son needed to be brought back. Jason scoffs and ends with the sentiment that Bruce never cared about him like this, probably never cared at all.

Emotionally volatile and being brought face-to-face with two failures, the reality/finality of Damian’s tragic death and the fact that another of his son’s could ever feel this way about him, he seizes Jason by the leather coat lapels and shakes him, yelling how of course he cared, when Jason died he nearly broke his code, he thrust Gotham into a nightmare of his rage and guilt after losing him, how if he had known then that there was anyway to bring Jason back, nothing in heaven or hell could have stopped him, just like he’s doing now, so yes, he knows better now and will stop at nothing to save Damian like he couldn’t save Jason then, like he still tries to now. Batman sets a deflated and a more-understanding Red Hood down with his head hung low and his voice thick with pain saying, “Losing you nearly killed me, I can’t go through it again. Please, just try to remember anything you can that can help. I need your help.”

Jason understands Bruce is not one to ask for help lightly. He can’t begrudge him this. He knows he had spoken out of hurt and anger, but knows truly Bruce would do anything for him, the least he can do is try to do the same for him. His hurt now could help save Bruce a lifetime of it. He places his hand on Bruce’s shoulder and bows his head in concentration. He mentions memories of the beating, of the hope and despair, of the explosion and fire and debris and the smells brought along with it. It begins to get too hard to go through and he can’t. Bruce steadies him by the shoulders and cuts him off. Red Hood apologizes. After a moment, Bruce says, “You tried, that’s all I could ask. I shouldn’t have even...I’ll find a way. However I have to, I’ll find it.” Jason agrees with a, “I know you will. You’d do anything for your son.” They lock eyes and Batman finalizes the event with a resounding, “Yes. For all of them.” Jason rubs the back of his helmet and neck and mentions current plans going on with the Outlaws, but that maybe he could stick around Gotham for a bit longer to help Bruce out, with the criminals, of course. Batman dismisses the idea saying he’s helped more than he knows and it’s time for them to go home.

#long post #anyway bruce is a flawed but ultimately good person and parent and i will die on that hill #i'm also just tired of storylines that involve physical violence against his kids #it's uncharacteristic of what i consider batman's true character #and moments of violent-adjacent outbursts i can handle in this fictional character #but not the 'i'm going to use my kid and be used by my kid as a punching bag' bullshit #disclaimer: i am of the 'out of oscillated love and guilt bruce would more realitically spoil jason' camp certain canon be damned #jason todd #red hood #batman and robin #dc comics #dc headcanons #dc critical #also overall i actually love tomasi's works #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne #this is my batman

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cdelphiki · 4 years

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She couldn’t do this.

Damian. Her precious little Damian. The baby with a beautiful smile. Infectious laugh. Adorable babble. Who so sweetly, so gently, pet any stray cat that sat still long enough for him to ‘catch.’ Who hugged anyone that cared for him, and even the random servants who lingered long enough.

That baby. Her baby.

Watching him, at 18-months-old, be taught how to wield a sword. Watching as the trainer smacked his hands, his side, his face, every time he wobbled, or lost interest, or got confused.

Hearing his cry, and seeing his pleading eyes, whenever it happened.

Seeing him look at her, and call for her, then get distraught because she did nothing.

She just stood there.

Next to her father.

And watched.

There was nothing more she could do. Going against her father would only bring more harm on her son. It would only risk Father taking Damian from her entirely.

But she couldn’t do this.

It felt like her heart was being ripped out of her body.

Someone was inside her, with red hot claws, scratching away. Destroying everything. Killing her.

Her stomach was filling with vile acid, and just one move, one word, and it might come up.

Weakness, her father would say.

Useless.

Pathetic.

Perhaps that is why he ordered her presence, for this training session.

She’d hardly been allowed time with her son. Not in nearly a year had she been granted daily visits with him.

Her father had been disappointed in how attached she’d been becoming.

‘He is to be a warrior,’ Father had said, ‘worthy of his station. He cannot become the Demon’s head if he is soft.’

Perhaps it was then she should have done something.

Said something.

But instead, she just bowed her head and followed orders.

Like a good daughter would do.

What use was that now?

Damian whimpered again, as his trainer smacked him on the back with the flat of his blade. He’d started slouching. They were working on form.

Talia resisted closing her eyes. She knew, she knew if she did, she would not be able to stop the tears that followed.

She had to remain strong. Stable. Unaffected….

Unaffected in her father’s eyes, at least.

When she’d lied to Bruce, when she’d told him she’d miscarried…. What was she thinking?

She- she hadn’t wanted to betray her father. Hadn’t wanted to betray the League. This was her life. She’d been raised in this, she owed everything she had. Her training. Her wealth. Her skills. Everything to her father.

But-

But what did that matter?

Was it worth it? Was her son worth it?

“All done,” Damian pleaded, when he fell over and scraped his hands on the hard cement, “all done all done all done.”

The trainer just stood him back up and handed him the sword again, ignoring his cries.

When Damian looked at her and cried, “Mama,” again, Talia could taste the bile.

How could she have just handed her son over to Ra’s like this? What kind of monster was she?

Her son was crying for her, and she was standing by, watching him be hurt.

All because her father told her to.

The fact that he knew to call her ‘Mama’ was all because she snuck in to see him. Ordered his nursemaids to leave the room. Swore them to secrecy.

Had killed, a few of them…

She’s more than sure Ra’s had noticed, now.

As Talia stood there, watching her son struggle to stop crying and listen to his trainer, Talia made a decision.

Because nearly two years ago, when she’d told Bruce about her ‘miscarriage,’ she’d made a huge mistake.

Her father’s influence was toxic.

This training?

It was hell.

Talia loved what it’d turned her into, she loved her skills and abilities.

But if this was the cost?

This?

Her child?

There was only one place on earth where she’d be safe, where he’d be safe. One person able to offer that protection.

And once Talia told him, she knew he’d move heaven and earth to get them away.

- - -

To say Bruce was suspicious would be an understatement.

Talia had broken ties with him two years prior.

On not-so-friendly terms, at that.

She’d betrayed him. Joined her father, and all but stabbed him in the back in doing so.

He’d loved her.

He really had.

She had been- he thought she was-

They were going to spend their lives together. Raise a child. He thought she was-

But that was over. In the past.

And yet, there she was, staring back at him through a webcam, asking for his help.

Asking for help, after hacking into his computer, in the cave, where his son could enter at any moment.

How on earth was he supposed to explain his past fling with Talia al Ghul to Jason?

“Why should I trust you?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

Because how would he be able to deny her request?

Once upon a time, he would have died for this opportunity. Would have cried, from utter relief, to get her away from the League. To bring her home. Keep her safe.

Yes. She could keep herself safe. Defend herself. Hold her own, against even him, but he could offer his protection of the entire Justice League. If it came down to it.

He’d loved her.

But she’d chosen her father. Chosen a life as an assassin. Rejected him. And it was hard for him to forget that.

“I lied to you,” she said, pulling his attention back to the present, “I lied.”

She said it with such finality, Bruce narrowed his eyes. And just stared.

He was sure she’d lied about many things. Why was this the ‘reason?’ And why would lying be a reason to trust her now?

To give her a chance, now?

“About?” he pressed, ignoring the thought in the back of his head asking whether this was all a distraction so the League could move in on Gotham.

Alarms would be going off, if that were the case. Literal alarms, in the cave.

Besides, the League hadn’t been doing anything in the United States for many months.

They were too busy building up their forces in the Alps. Bruce still had no idea why, but they’d been beefing up their presence there for over a year and a half.

“You know about what,” Talia said, gently. Almost apologetically.

His heart fluttered, a little.

There was one thing. One thing, that had she been lying about, he’s not sure he’d be angry about.

Not right now, at least.

“Bruce,” she pled, “I- I’ve made a mistake.” Her voice cracked, and she rested a hand against the side of her face as she looked off to the side, away from her camera. “Father is so cruel to him, Bruce. I need your help.”

No.

Anger was definitely not the emotion he was feeling. It- it was down there. It was deep, deep down there, and later that night. Or, perhaps, in a few days, he knew he would hit a punching bag until his knuckles were bloody.

But on top? Right now?

On top was hope.

Hope, excitement, and… and utter devastation.

“Him?” Bruce whispered, resisting the urge to rip his mask off and rub at his face. He was on camera, he had to remind himself. He had no idea how many people were watching.

And this could all be one magnificent lie. A trick to get him off balance. So they could strike, while he had his guard down.

While he was yearning for something he’d thought he’d lost, two years prior.

“He’s beautiful, Bruce,” she whispered, her voice catching on the next sentence, “He looks just like you, and I can tell he gets his empathy from you. But,” she paused, a ferocious determination taking over her face. A trait of her’s that had caused Bruce to fall in the first place.

“Father will destroy him if we don’t get him away.”

There would be no ‘ifs.’

If Bruce had ever had a mission that had no option for failure, it was this one.

He didn’t care if Talia changed her mind, ten minutes later. This mission was happening, and he was bringing home what he thought he’d lost.

Bruce has no idea how he got through the following ten minutes, planning out with Talia exactly how and when the pickup would go. Nightwing, Robin and himself would all approach the compound in the batwing, in stealth mode. He’d pulled Clark in on the call, and Superman agreed he would be on standby, watching from afar for anything to go wrong.

If they were spotted, or if the League tried anything, the entire Justice League would respond, if necessary.

Clark promised he’d keep the mission itself classified. No one but the core team would know the details of what they were picking up. The core team being himself, the Flash, and the Bats.

His ears were ringing the entire time, and he felt like an outsider, looking in.

‘He looks just like you,’ Talia had said.

That’s all he could think about.

Bruce had a son.

There-

Was there anything more to say?

He had a son.

“Talia,” he rasped, just before she cut the call with him. After a deep breath, he looked deep into the camera, doing his best to convey his seriousness. His promise, should it be necessary. “If this is a trick.”

With sadness in her eyes, Talia smiled and said, “We will see you tomorrow, Beloved,” and with that, ended the call.

It came as no surprise when, not even a quarter of a second later, the papers on his desk flew up into the air. Each one wafting back down, before Bruce even had the chance to close his eyes and take a breath.

Bringing Clark in on this was necessary.

As much as he hated bringing personal missions to those outside the family, there was no way he could risk this one.

If Talia was telling the truth, and he wasn’t successful on his own. Wasn’t able to take on the entire League while protecting a helpless infant.

Well.

He’d never forgive himself.

Ever.

But none of that meant he had to be happy his best friend was there to witness this.

“Bruce, this is,” Clark started, setting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing, but Bruce cut him off.

“Clark, just,” he said, pulling his mask off so he could finally wipe his eyes. He wasn’t even mortified at the crack in his voice, because there was far too many other things swirling through his head. “Give me a minute.”

He had… so much to do. He hadn’t time for this.

And yet…

It was the only thing he could do.

Closing his eyes, Bruce took a second to recenter himself. Find his strength and embrace his duties. Right now, he needed to be Batman.

But before he was able to complete a single deep breath, he heard from the top of the stairs, “B?”

And everything just became much more complicated.

“Bruce?” Jason asked again, a little hesitantly, as he made his way down the stairs, “Superman? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bruce said, reeling it all in and trying his best to blink back the wetness in his eyes. So maybe he wouldn’t have to wipe his face in front of his son.

His… middle son.

Because, Bruce actually had three…

“Is Dick okay?” Jason asked a little more frantically, because despite his best efforts, Bruce sniffed.

“He’s fine,” Clark soothed, squeezing Bruce’s shoulder a little tighter as Jason hurried his way down the stairs, “Nothing is wrong, Jase.”

“Then why is…” Jason said, trailing off when he finally made it to where Bruce was sitting.

They had so much to do. Bruce hadn’t the time for this.

It was time for Batman.

“Suit up,” he told his son, shrugging Clark’s hand off and squaring his shoulders. They had just under three hours before take off, and there was so much to do. “We have a mission.”

- - -

By ‘a mission,’ Bruce meant they were infiltrating the freaking League of Assassins.

Like.

In the middle of the day. Completely randomly.

Well, they were set to leave in three hours, with a 5 hour flight time. And considering the time difference, it would actually be about 4am when they arrived at Nanda Parbat.

So.

Middle of the night, kind of.

Jason was both super excited, and kind of freaked out.

Especially when Bruce called in Dick.

Those two worked together, sure. Sometimes. But it was always so fucking tense, and Jason kind of hated it.

Bruce also always refused to call in Dick for anything. Dick always just kind of, forced himself in on the mission.

But for this?

Whatever the fuck this was?

It had Bruce calling in not only Dick Grayson, but Superman, too.

Because that’s why Superman had been there. He’d already called the guy in.

Whatever was going on, it was huge.

And whatever it was, Jason actually started feeling very nervous. Because Bruce said he had news to share. And he called Alfred down first, before he shared it.

Bruce paced. Back and forth, back and forth. In front of the conference table for two full minutes while the four of them sat there, waiting for him to fucking say something.

“Do you want me?” Clark asked, and was immediately shot down by a glare from Bruce.

Was Bruce dying?

Were they going to the League to steal some pit water??

Because he said he was okay.

Clark said he was okay, and Clark wouldn’t lie about something like that. Right? Jason wouldn’t put it past Bruce at all to be a freaking hypocrite and lie to him so not to make him worry, but not Clark.

He was way too much a boy scout.

Yet, there Bruce was. Pacing back and forth. Freaking out about something.

“B, you’re freaking the kid out,” Dick said, leaning back in his chair, like he was fucking relaxed during this.

Their freaking dad could be dying and he was chill about it.

No wonder his name was Dick.

“I am not,” he protested, but Bruce quit his pacing and sighed, anyway.

“Honestly, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, from where he sat next to Jason, “Whatever it is, I am confident we can handle it.”

“A couple years ago,” Bruce started, pausing to sigh again before he turned his back to them, but continued, “I got… involved… with Talia al Ghul.”

“Gross. I knew it,” Dick said, pulling a face for Jason to see.

“From the League of Assassins,” Jason said, just to clarify.

So… were they staging this mission so Bruce could go…

Ew.

Gross.

Disgusting.

Jason hated his mind for putting that picture in his head.

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed, apparently uncaring that he’d just put horrible awful pictures in Jason’s head.

He was thirteen. This was probably child abuse.

“It was serious,” he continued, “We had been… discussing marriage.”

“Oh my,” Alfred said, in as close to a gasp as Jason had ever heard from Alfred.

Jason didn’t blame him. Bruce had never really struck Jason as a ‘serious’ kinda guy.

Not with the ladies, at least.

Mostly because he had a different chick hanging off of him at every party.

“She had been with child,” Bruce finally said, nearly stumbling over his words as he spit the sentence out.

The air in the room seemed to still, and they all stared at Bruce.

Well, all of them, except Clark. Since apparently Clark already knew.

“Why… why,” Dick stammered, then stopped.

Jason didn’t really know what to ask first, either.

But apparently Bruce knew what to answer first.

“She told me she miscarried. She, she told me. I thought-“ with another sigh, Bruce turned back around, finally allowing them to see the exhaustion on his face, as he rubbed at it and sat down at the head of the table.

“I thought she’d miscarried. She dumped me, after that. Refused to leave her father and the League, and sent me home. I- I should have checked up on it. Verified her story, but… I was just so-”

Bruce put his face in his hands, and just sat there, for a very long minute.

Dick, to Jason’s surprise, was the one to break the silence, because neither he nor Alfred seemed to be able to find any words. Jason had never heard Bruce so close to tears, before.

He was kind of scared of getting Bruce to talk more.

And if Bruce was saying what he was saying, well…

Jason really had no words for it.

Batman apparently had a baby.

And they were going to rescue it from the League of Assassins.

That was just…

Wow.

Holy.

Shit.

“So,” Dick said, a small smile tugging on his lips as he did, “is it a boy or a girl?”

- - -

Everything was going smoothly.

They had agreed on a meet-up time eight hours from the end of their call, which meant Talia had most the night to figure out her plan for getting Damian out of his nursery.

In the end, she’d decided on using simple tranquilizer darts.

It was dirty, a completely dishonorable way to fight, but Talia couldn’t find it in herself to care.

The very last thing she needed was for one of the nursemaids to notice her break-in and alert the guards.

She’d packed her bag before heading to Damian’s room, so all she had left to do was grab him before Bruce arrived.

Sneaking into his room was painfully easy, and she only had to sedate one nursemaid, who had already been asleep, anyway.

Honestly. It couldn’t have been easier, and it was putting Talia on edge.

Damian stirred, when she lifted him from the crib, so Talia shoved the pacifier into his mouth she knew he’d been deprived of for eight months at that point.

He’d taken to sucking his thumb, in its stead, and Talia had always hated that about her father’s rules.

Why was it so difficult to indulge her son in one simple comfort.

The pacifier worked like a charm, and Damian latched onto it with one hand as he sucked away, curling into Talia’s hold as she wrapped the cloth around them both, creating a make-shift carrier.

Out of everything, the hardest part was getting him tied to her securely. Because with the pacifier, he was as quiet as a lamb, not making a single peep of protest. She wasn’t even sure if he’d woken enough to see who had been holding him.

After the day he’d had, Talia was grateful he could still find peace in his sleep.

Climbing up to the roofs was a little more difficult. Damian did whine, a little, when she had to press herself up against the wall of the third floor, to hide from a patrolling guard below.

She closed her eyes and held her breath, begging every deity she could think of to keep Damian silent as the guard paused and looked around. After adjusting her grip, so she could hold them both with one hand, she placed her newly free hand on his head and tried to soothe him.

Damian shifted against her, even though he was pinned rather tightly between her and the wall, then stilled. His little pacifier bobbing in and out as he grasped tightly to her blouse.

The guard looked around, up and down the narrow courtyard below where she was climbing, but after a long minute, turned around and continued on with his patrol.

Talia didn’t allow herself a sigh of relief.

With three more moves, Talia reached the edge of the roof and pulled herself up, without scraping Damian against the edge. He didn’t notice in his sleep.

Soon, he’d be able to pass all his nights in such peace.

His days, too.

She had no doubt in her mind that Bruce would offer them the sanctuary they needed, to allow Damian to grow up without fears.

But, if he didn’t, she’d find it anyway.

This child. Her child, would never know the pain he’d experienced that day again.

As silently as she’d been trained, Talia raced across the rooftops to the pickup location. Bruce was promised to be there in two minutes, and she needed to be three buildings over.

“Shh,” she whispered, hugging Damian tightly as she ran. The movement was, apparently, disrupting his sleep, and he’d started to stir, “sleep, my prince.”

“Mama,” he mumbled, snuggling against her.

“Yes,” she choked, preparing to make the last jump to the roof where Bruce was to meet them, “Mama is here, baby.”

She’d given Bruce the coordinates of the highest roof in the complex, in hopes that he could simply swoop in and grab them, not needing to stop or interact with anyone.

He was bringing his team, though. He was bringing Superman.

Talia had never had any sort of admiration for the alien. His technique was abysmal, tending to toss around his unearthly strength, rather than exhibit any skill during his fights.

But knowing that, if it came down to it, she could likely just shout ‘Superman,’ and in an instant he’d be there, ready and able to take Damian to safety… It helped keep her calm.

Father would not be expecting the help of a Kryptonian. Bruce had never been one to ask for help, so it was unlikely Father would have his kryptonite within reach.

The final jump was a little longer than comfortable, and Talia had to land in a roll to avoid injuring herself or falling off completely. She rolled on her back, using her arms to keep Damian from making contact with the roof at all.

Her heart was hammering when she finished the roll on her feet. She had thirty more yards to go, and she’d been at the exact coordinates she’d given Bruce.

Thirty more yards, and one more minute.

Talia shook, as she stood in the exact spot. Damian was fully awake now, and wriggling against the cloth wrapped around him.

“Be still, my dear,” she whispered, hugging him a little tighter as she searched the night sky for any sign of their rescue, “Just a few more moments.”

“Out,” Damian cried, not quite at a normal level, but much louder than Talia felt comfortable with, as he started struggling against her arms, “Down.”

“In a moment,” she whispered desperately. Her arms felt like rubber, as the adrenaline that had kept her running started to ebb.

It was a minute past pickup, and Batman was no where in sight.

If he didn’t show…

Damian whined out again, this time loudly.

“Be patient, my love,” she whispered, now fighting back tears, “Your father is coming for us.”

He had to be.

“Mama,” Damian cried, pulling his pacifier out of his mouth completely to whine at her more efficiently.

She looked around frantically, making sure no guards were near enough to have heard him.

When she didn’t see anyone coming at them, she bounced Damian some and tried to force the pacifier back into his mouth. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she repeated, over and over, really unsure, at this point, if it was for Damian or herself.

Because if Bruce weren’t coming, was any of his team?

Was she just standing on a roof, risking the life of her son for nothing?

Father would not take lightly an attempted defection.

What would he do to Damian?

Probably take him away from her forever. She’d never see him again. Never know the pain he was in. Never be able to hold him, after a hard day, and comfort him. Remind him of her love.

She’d lose him forever, and-

Talia’s knees nearly buckled when, without warning, a jet materialized out of nowhere not ten feet above her.

His technology was amazing. She hadn’t even felt it coming, much less heard it.

And before she even realized it, tears were streaming down her face.

A hatch opened, right on the underside of the jet, and Batman himself leaned out, reaching a hand down to her.

“Talia,” he breathed, shaking his hand, as if desperately begging her to grab it.

She’d never accepted an offered hand so fast in her life.

As he pulled her up into the jet, swiftly and effortlessly, as if it were nothing, Talia felt herself relax. All the adrenaline leave her body entirely as she collapsed right onto the ground of Bruce’s jet.

She didn’t even care who all was there to see.

Because for the first time in her life, Talia felt like she could breathe.

- - -

She hadn’t been lying.

That was the only thing circling through Bruce’s head as he pulled Talia up into the jet, them stopping barely long enough for him to do that before Dick was turning around and racing away.

As far as they could tell, they hadn’t been spotted until they turned off the craft’s cloaking system.

If all went to plan, the League would not be able to respond quickly enough to catch them. Nightwing was supposed to take them on an indirect route back to Gotham, completely in stealth mode.

Ra’s al Ghul could search the skies all night and never find them.

He hoped.

But all that was for Nightwing to worry about. That had been the plan. If Talia was telling the truth, he’d agreed, Bruce could focus on that, while Dick handled keeping them hidden and taking them to safety. Jason could give him backup, if necessary.

Bruce trusted Dick with his life.

And he was so thankful for that, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do much beyond what he was currently doing.

Which was watching as Talia collapsed onto the floor, clumsily freeing a baby from a carrier as she cried into his hair.

“Tal-“ he started, reaching an hand out to her, really unsure about what he was going to do. But he froze, when the baby squirmed and twisted out of the cloth holding him.

Because Talia was right.

He was beautiful.

His bright green eyes were mesmerizing, and Bruce felt his heart seize as the baby looked at him, ever so briefly.

It wasn’t until that very instant did Bruce realize his life had been incomplete.

There had been a piece of him missing, and he hadn’t even realized it.

The baby turned back to his mother and said, “Mama,” reaching up for her face.

“Yes,” Talia sobbed, grabbing his hand and holding it to her cheek, before she wrapped him up into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry,” she said, squeezing him tight, “I’m so sorry.”

Bruce watched helplessly as Talia devolved further and further into incoherence, as she whispered her apologies and proclaimed her love for the very confused looking baby in her arms.

The baby didn’t protest, though. He leaned into her hug and stayed there, like he understood his mother needed a hug back.

How old was he?

If he’d been born on time, by Bruce’s estimations, he’d be about…

Seventeen months old?

Eighteen?

He didn’t know much about baby development, but he did know that it was during the first year they turned from basically babies to tiny, outspoken little people.

How developed was his son? How much had Bruce missed?

Bruce knelt down in front of Talia and sat there, waiting for her to recover.

What she had been through, he had no idea.

It had to have been a lot, for her to reach out and actually ask for help.

She was stubborn, like that. Never asking for help. Never even expecting it.

And her reaction to being pulled into safety, well.

He was afraid to learn what she’d been through.

Jason caught his eye, lingering just on the outskirts of his vision. He looked up and tried to offer a reassuring face, but probably fell flat, because Jason frowned at him. But Jason held a thumbs up at him, both letting him know they’d flown into the clear and Superman had been informed of the successful mission, and asking if Bruce was good.

With a single nod, Bruce thanked him, and turned his attention back to Talia.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking at him, now, but still hugging the baby tightly to her.

“What happened?” he asked, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the baby.

Touch his son.

Bruce had never been one to want to hold babies, usually perfectly content to just observe them, but his arms yearned for the weight of this baby in his arms.

He didn’t even know his name.

“Father,” she said, her voice almost squeaking with the effort.

Bruce hadn’t seen her in two years, and he still wanted to pull her to his side.

Never had he seen her like this.

But he kept his distance. Let her recover on her own. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her, in that moment.

At all.

“Father,” she said again, this time much more confidently, one hand absently combing through the baby’s hair.

The beautiful baby who had twisted in her hold, just enough, to stare at him.

“Started his training.” There was so much pain in her voice, Bruce could only imagine what kind of horrors that meant.

Who trained a baby?

“Bruce,” she choked out, squeezing the baby again, “it was so bad. I- I just stood there and watched. I couldn’t- I couldn’t do anything else. He would have harmed him more. Or taken him from me.”

“What happened,” he repeated, trying to keep his voice as gentle as possible.

Any anger he had about whatever ‘training’ implied was being pushed down. Buried deep into the recesses of his brain.

No one needed his anger right now.

When the baby continued to stare at him, Bruce realized he still had his cowl on.

What kind of introduction was this? Being presented to his son as Batman, first.

Hopefully he hadn’t scared the kid too much to want to be held.

Talia started crying again, and shifted so she was sitting criss-cross, the baby still cradled in her arms as she blubbered out, “They hit him so many times, Bruce. I’m so sorry,” and before Bruce could even respond. Could even think of how to respond, she turned her face down to the baby and repeated, “I’m so sorry, Damian. I’m so sorry, my love. I’ll never let- I’ll never-”

But she didn’t complete the sentence, because she’d lost it again, and the baby… Damian?

Damian.

That was the most beautiful name he’d ever heard.

Damian looked very confused and concerned for his mother’s mood.

“He’s safe now,” Bruce tried, scooting over to her side to set a hand on her back, “He’s safe.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, curling further onto Damian.

“Mama,” Damian said again, this time pointing at Bruce when Talia opened her eyes and gave him her attention.

“Yes,” she said, smiling for the first time as she wiped her tears away, “Yes, dear. This is-“ she paused, looking up at Bruce, then said again, “This is Daddy.”

Bruce could cry.

He was not going to cry.

“Do you want to hold him?” Talia asked, apparently seeing the intense desire plastered all over his face.

All Bruce wanted to do was hold him. There was nothing on earth he wanted more.

“May I?” he asked, almost afraid to even try.

What if Damian didn’t like him?

What if he started crying, when Bruce took him?

“He’s your son, Bruce,” Talia said, lifting Damian from her lap and offering him over.

After hesitating for only a second, Bruce reached out and held his hands out to Damian, who looked at him appraisingly, like he were judging Bruce and determining if he was worth his attention.

But then, before Bruce could even hold his breath, Damian leaned toward him, and Bruce could definitely cry.

Because then Damian was in his arms, looking straight into his eyes as he let Bruce hold him close.

And-

And.

Bruce had no thoughts.

“Hi, Damian,” he choked out, trying his hardest not to cry, “I’m- I’m your-“ but he couldn’t get the word out.

Couldn’t get anything else out.

Damian didn’t seem to care, because he smiled at Bruce and said, “Hi,” back.

And Bruce was definitely crying, now.

Just a little.

But he didn’t care.

He didn’t care, because he had the son he thought he’d lost two years ago cradled in his arms, and nothing could ruin the moment.

- - -

Jason was thankful that the jet was large enough he didn’t have to hear Bruce talking to his new baby son.

He honestly had no idea how to feel about all of this.

Bruce had apparently done it with the daughter of one of their most dangerous villains, and he was now probably definitely crying tears of joy while he held the son of said villainous daughter.

But Jason wasn’t jealous.

How could he be?

The baby was just a baby. It’s not like the posed any sort of threat to Jason.

Except.

By… stealing away Bruce’s attention.

Jason was not being jealous of a baby. The baby deserved his dad’s attention. Especially since he had a dad as great as Bruce. Jason would know. He’d been playing the role of dad for him for a year.

Now, though… now he had a real son.

He was not jealous.

“Stop worrying,” Dick said, from where he was flying the jet, sitting in the seat next to Jason.

Jason had taken the spot of co-pilot just because it was the farthest away from Bruce he could be. He wasn’t really helping Nightwing fly.

Mostly because Nightwing didn’t need help flying. He actually had the auto-pilot engaged.

“I’m not worrying.”

“You’re right,” Dick said, laughing a little as he leaned back in his chair, “You’re freaking out.”

Crossing his arms, Jason tried his best to look completely and totally unaffected by everything ever as he said, “Am not.”

Apparently he was unconvincing, because Dick gave him a shit eating grin and ruffled his hair.

Like the asshole he was.

“You’re right. You’re the epitome of calm and collected.”

“Fuck you,” Jason snapped. Dick should mind his own fucking business.

They still weren’t, like, friends or anything, either. Dick had been clear about how happy he was Jason existed. Sure, they’d kind of made up some in recent months. And Dick even offered his blessing for Jason to be Robin, but that didn’t mean they were friends.

Apparently Dick didn’t agree, because he kept being an asshole and talking to him by saying, “Look, this isn’t going to change anything between you and Bruce, okay?”

Through a pout, Jason mumbled, “How would you know?” Bruce getting a son was going to change everything.

“Because this happened to me, remember?”

Jason rolled his eyes. Just because Bruce adopted him didn’t mean Dick knew what it was like to have his adopted dad get a biological child and not need him anymore. If anything, Dick should be freaking out, too, because they were both the adopted kids and the baby was the real son.

Except Dick didn’t live with them, so he wasn’t at risk of being homeless again if Bruce kicked him out. Since, well, Bruce couldn’t kick him out.

Maybe Dick should fuck off and leave him alone.

“Did Bruce adopting you change how he felt about me?” Dick asked, nudging Jason’s arm as he did.

Asshole.

“Fuck you, it’s different,” he snapped. In fact, they all knew Dick was the favorite child between the two of them, so it was completely and totally different.

Maybe Dick should be worrying more. He wasn’t going to be the favorite anymore.

Bruce was so happy about having a biological son he was crying about it.

Bruce had never been that happy about Jason.

“Not really,” Dick said, sighing some, “I thought he was writing me off completely when he adopted you.”

“Bruce never shuts up about you, it’s always ‘Dick this’ and ‘Dick that’ whenever I do anything, so shut up. But we’re both adopted, and that baby over there ain’t.”

Dick cocked a head at him and then let out a huff of a laugh. “Bruce never even told you. Wow.”

“Told me what?” Jason demanded, crossing his arms harder, because he didn’t want to storm off. Mostly because that would mean facing Bruce with his stupid new baby.

“I knew he was terrible with communication, but geez.”

“What, Dickface, just tell me.”

“Jase,” Dick said, offering a softer smile than before, “I’m not adopted. Bruce never adopted me. He was simply my ‘guardian’ until I aged out of the system. He has no legal obligation to me at all, now.”

“He-“ Jason started, because there was no way that was true.

No. Fucking. Way.

Bruce cared about Dick way too much for that to be true.

And why would Bruce adopt him, but not Dick? That also made no sense.

Dick was the favorite.

“You’re lying. He calls you his son all the time.”

“I know,” Dick said softly, still smiling like an asshole, “Because even if he’s never said it, and probably never will say it, he loves me. Just like he loves you.”

“Shut up,” he said, because he couldn’t figure out anything else to say. Obviously he knew Bruce, like, loved him and shit. But they didn’t have to talk about it.

But… Dick was kind of right about one point. He was adopted.

It’s not like Bruce could go back on that.

So kicked out probably wasn’t on the table.

“I promise, Jason, this isn’t going to change anything between you two. So don’t worry too much.”

Jason was stuck trying to come up with something to respond with that was more witty than 'fuck you' when he was startled by Bruce’s footsteps approaching the cockpit.

If Bruce saw him pouting, there was no doubt he’d be able to read Jason as easily as Dick Fucking Grayson had read him, and that would not be good.

He wasn’t ready for that.

“Jason,” Bruce said, sounding like he was smiling wider than Jason had ever seen him smile.

Except.

Maybe.

On his adoption day. When Bruce hugged him and said ,“Welcome to the family, Jaylad,” with his stupid dopey smile…

And… and…

“Dick,” Bruce continued, now inside the cockpit, with the little baby in his arms, “I want you boys to meet your little brother, Damian.”

And maybe…

Maybe Dick was right.

Jason had nothing to worry about.

He’d always wanted a little brother, too.

#Talia Al Ghul #Damian Wayne #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Batfam #Baby Damian #batfamily #Redemption arc?#sort of #Probably definitely #good mom talia #good dad bruce #Robin #Jason Todd #nightwing #Dick Grayson #cross posted to Ao3 #under the name Second Chance #c writes

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catxsnow · 4 years

Text

SAME FATE J.T.

Request: Hi, I have loved your work as of late I mean top tier work. I was wondering if you can do platonic Jason Todd imagine where the reader was the newest robin and a spitting image of him when he was robin so happy and proud to be a robin and Jason hates her because of it and one day he sort of leads her into a trap just to scare her and something wrong. She is killed by it and beyond being brought back by the pit. Sorry for the angst, I am just in an angsty mood and know that you will do it justice.

Warning: death, blood, angst.

A/N: I changed the request a little bit, hope you don’t mind. Just didn’t quite see Jason doing this but I think I envisioned enough angst in here to satisfy you.

Hope you enjoy! Requests are still open :)

GIF not mine

Word count: 2.1k

Jason Todd didn't like you. At all.

Everyone knew it: Bruce, Dick, Tim - they were all aware of how much the second Robin hated you. Even you were aware of it, even though you had done nothing to him to make him feel this way. He even hated you more than Tim and Tim was the one to take his spot as Robin. You had taken Tim's place and if anyone was to be angry it should have been him.

Instead, it was Jason.

No one knew why he hated you so much - in fact everyone thought that the two of you would have gotten along well considering how similar you were. Much like Jason, you had extremely terrible parents. Neither of them cared about you, put food on the table, and most times there wasn't even a roof of your head.

All the money that was brought in was spent on drugs and alcohol and whatever item that had value of your had to be well hidden if you wanted to keep it. All in all, when your father was sent to jail and your mom died of overdose? You didn't complain about it. Life was easier without them in it.

That was when Bruce found you. He had taken you in to live in the Manor and trained you to be the next Robin. You had learned pretty quick too, it was only months that you were there before taking Tim's mantle. The difference between the two of you and how you upheld Robin was drastic.

The first time you had tried on the suit, you had nearly screamed with excitement. Bruce watched you prance around the batcave with a grin on your face. You flipped and jump around, showing off some of the moves you had been taught.

“This is best thing that’s ever happened to me!” You were so proud to take on the mantle of Robin. When you were a kid, Batman and Robin would always bring you hope that things would be better, that they would change. Now, you got to make that happen yourself.

God, did Bruce see so much Jason in you.

You were reckless, dauntless when it came to being out in the streets beside Batman. Running towards bullets, narrowly escaping time and time again, you lived on the edge. Just like Jason. Also just like him, you were aggressive to the point that Bruce couldn't control you just like he couldn't control Jason.

Everyday he saw more and more of his second son in you. Bruce knew that he needed to keep you from making the same mistake that Jason ever did. He couldn't lose you too - even if Jason was back from the dead. No one was willing to take that same risk again, not without a Lazarus pit hidden within the batcave.

Each and every time that Jason showed up to the Manor, he had vocally expressed how he didn't like you. He was rude and undermining to you more than to anyone else. It hurt more than you thought it would. In a lot of ways, you looked up to Jason.

The way that he upheld Robin was something that you always thrived for. You wanted to be like him but, the more that you pushed to be like him, the more he seemed to hate you. He made you doubt your skill as Robin and as yourself. Jason was terrible to you, and you never knew why.

Night after night you would cry yourself to sleep. It wasn't often that someone would get to you but Jason had managed to do it. He didn't just break your walls down, he demolished them. Jason made you feel like a weak little girl, something that you hadn't felt like in years. After everything that you had gone through in life, this shouldn't have been your weakness, yet it was.

The night that you went patrolling on your own was a stormy one. Rain droplets blocked your vision and made everything twice as hard as it normally was. Bruce was busy with an event for WE and you weren't ready to call it a night. Crime didn't stop just because there was rain.

The night went as it always did. Taking out anyone you saw breaking the law and bounding across the city to find someone else to bring to justice. It was nights like those that made you wonder why Jason hated you so much - you were doing great on your own. In fact, you had to admit that you were just as good as he was.

Tim saw it in you. From what he knew about Jason, you not only had the same amount of skill, but the same kind. Bruce had confided in him about how much he saw Jason in you and how worried it made him.

He should have been more worried.

As the night seemed to get quiet, you had let your guard down. That had been the mostly costly mistake that you had ever made. You had just finished knocking out some sleeze when another figure arrived. Between the loud booms of thunder and the traffic on the street, you couldn't hear them approach you.

Before you could even turn around, you were out cold.

The second that Bruce got the picture of you he sent every resource available searching Gotham for you.

It was Penguin that had captured you - why, he still didn't know. The picture that was published for all the world to see was of you completely bloody and bruised. You hung from chains by your wrists, blood dripping from your face, soaking your suit, and onto the cement. You looked terrible.

The picture was posted on every single news channel, article, papers, it was everywhere. Penguin wanted to city to know that he could capture a Robin and torture them without getting caught. He had Batman in the palm of his hand if he ever wished to see his precious Robin again.

Bruce had everyone searching for you. Even Jason Todd, the one person on this planet that seemed to hate your guts, agreed to help find you. It had been a long time since any of them had seen Bruce this worried about someone. He had every right to be, this exact situation happened to Jason only a few years ago.

At least Penguin was a little more sane.

It had been just over forty-eight hours since you had been taken. Forty-eight hours of nothing but torture and pain. Bruce couldn't imagine what you were going through right now, he didn't want to. The entire time he hadn't slept, he had only been focused on finding you. This couldn't happen to him again.

Jason Todd might have hated you, but he knew that no one ever deserved to be in the same situation that he was in. That was why he spent day and night searching for you. Penguin had hid you well, too well for anyone to find you - hell they didn't even know if you were still in Gotham or not.

It was late at night when the video broadcast on every screen in Gotham. You looked worse than before. Suit torn, more blood and bruises than skin. Your head hung low and you could barely stand any longer. Penguin had put a number on you.

"Batman..." You coughed, blood spit down your chin and onto the floor. One of the Penguin's goons lifted your head up by the hair so that you fully faced the camera. "Penguin... admits he's got the smallest dick in Gotham and not even a goat would -"

The camera shut off the moment that you got another punch to the face. As dire of a situation that this was, Jason couldn't help but chuckle at you. Even in the face of death - you were going to give them hell.

"Got them," Tim's voice echoed over the comms. Thankfully, you had been on air just long enough or him to track down the signal. "He's got her in a warehouse down on fourth and twentieth."

"I'm right there, I'll go," Jason responded. He was already starting up his bike and driving to the warehouse that you were supposedly in. God forbid that Tim was right - after the comment you made Penguin was not going to be happy.

Jason's bike barely stopped before he hopped up. The place looked empty - the only sign of life was a singular light going off in the building. Gun's out and up, he kicked open the door and was ready to shoot anyone that stood in his way. However, there was no one. For a second, he thought that Tim had gotten the place wrong until he saw a lump of red, green, and yellow lit up.

Jason holstered his guns and ran over to you. A pool of blood surrounded your limp body and as he turned you onto your back, he had seen while. Two bullet holes punctured your suit and deep into your abdomen.

"Fuck," Jason muttered. He pulled his helmet off, not wanting to scare you more than you already were. You eyes fluttered up to him and you had to use all of your strength just to keep them open. "Batman, fuck, hurry."

Jason pressed down on your fresh wounds in hope to stop the bleeding but it already looked like you had lost too much. There was no way that he could move you - not when he only had his bike with him.

"You're gonna be just fine, (Y/N)," Jason tried to comfort you. You didn't feel the need to be comforted - in fact you didn't feel anything at all. Jason'a face was blurry above you and a ringing vibrated through your ears. No pain was felt in your body, just acceptance. "Stay with me."

"Bru..." You tried to talk but nothing was able to come out. Blood stained your teeth, only the metallic taste of blood was what you could sense. "Sorry..."

This time, your eyes didn't open again. "(Y/N)," Jason called to you. Your body was completely dead weight in his arms and your chest no longer rose up. "(Y/N)," Jason tried again. He ripped off his gloves and pressed his fingers to your neck. No pulse. "No! (Y/N)!"

Jason felt an overwhelming sadness fill his chest. For years he was never fond of you. You were reckless, dangerous, even a threat to this team. You cared about the thrill of it all no matter what kind of spot that put you in. You came from a broken home, just excited that you finally had a roof over your head.

You were just like him.

That was why Jason hated you so much. You reminded him too much of himself. Too much of what he used to be before Joker had gotten to him. Every time he looked at you, all he could see was what his life used to be like. He had everything he could have wanted, just like you had.

Whatever sick people looked over you had the same kind of fate in mind. You had gotten the same terrible ending that he had gotten. The ending that he didn't want for Tim, that he didn't want for you. That was why he hated you so much.

“Fuck, (Y/N). I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Jason’s voice cracked as he held back sobs.

The sadness and grief that filled Jason's chest grew so much that he could no longer contain it. Tears slid down his cheeks as he held onto your body. Sobs echoed through the empty warehouse for the loss of Robin. Jason had reached his breaking point with you.

He was angry with himself for neglecting you all these years. After being able to see so much of himself in you, he should have known that you could have followed him down the same path, he just didn't expect it to be this one. He never expected anyone to be in this same position again, especially with someone other than the joker.

Jason could have taken you under his protection, he could have taught you everything that he knew. Bruce had told him that you looked up to him in so many ways and he denied that you ever cared about him. It was easier to look you than to see the similarities within you.

Bruce had arrived too late as well. The second that he saw your dead body in Jason's arms, he had fallen to his knees in despair. Bruce has to watch his Robin die for a second time. What broke him even more, was seeing the absolute heartbreak on Jason's face. They had all been too late.

Jason Todd had failed you, and he was going to live with that guilt for the rest of his life.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd oneshot #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #jason todd imagine #dc #dc imagine #dc one shot #angst

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Five boys the Batfamily scared off (And the one boy who helped Marinette get revenge on them all)

This is actually based off a prompt/ask I got by #vixen-Uchiha

Okay, believe it or not, I’ve in history of all my days writing fanfiction (I just turned 27 and have been writing since I was sixteen); I started when Twilight was still at the height of its popularity. (All that work has been deleted, burned, and doused with holy water; don’t ask questions) But even with almost a decade of writing fanfiction, I never even considered approaching this fanfiction classic.

Until now.

Wish me luck. And don’t judge me too harshly.

Note this was also inspired by a poem I loved called To the Boys Who May One Day Date My Daughter by Jesse Parent

Marinette always knew Tom was her step-father. Sabine and he married when she was three after all. And while she considered the great cuddly bear to be her dad, she still had a great relationship with her actual father: Bruce Wayne. And all her brothers and Sister. She spent every summer with them and every other Christmas in Gotham. She loved her family. She just wished they take a chill pill.

And stop scaring away her freaking boyfriends.

Lê Chiến Kim: The Boy who swears Marinette’s related to the Boogieman

If anyone asked Marinette now if she would ever date Kim, she’d have died of laughter. Kim was like a goofy cousin. They were great friends. Their moms were best friends. She just didn’t see him like that.

However, it wouldn’t have been so funny to six-year-old Marinette who ran from school with a Daisy in her hair and a big smile her face.

“Daddy, Daddy,” She’d squeal to her Papa later that day. She barely noticed he was still wearing bat uniform, except the mask. Or all her brothers were with him.

“Hey Sunshine,” Bruce smiled lovingly at his youngest daughter. “You have a good day at school.”

“Give ‘em hell, firecracker,” Jason called from the background.

Tim and Dick laughed. Bruce just shook his head amused.

“I got a boyfriend!”

Silence.

That day would forever be known as the day all the smiles died. Seven-year-old Damian just blinked in confusion. He didn’t know what had happened but he knew it was bad. And that it involved his sister. Was she in danger? Did she need help?

Before Bruce could process or respond to his precious, baby girl, who was way too young to date (And what the hell was Sabine thinking?). Dick literally pushed him out of his chair like it was nothing. “What’s his name? Who are his parents? Where does he live? And where can I find him right now?”

Marinette, being too young didn’t notice the threat in her eldest brother’s voice and the look of murder in his eyes, had no problem telling Dick all about her best friend Kim, who was super nice, and gave her a Daisy, and kissed her cheek.

When the call ended, Bruce brought up the picture of the boy in question. A nice-enough looking boy to most, but he knew the truth. He knew the evil in his heart.

I have been waiting for you, Bruce thought, not just to Kim but to all the boys who would day date his daughter, since before she was even born. Before you took your first steps, I was preparing to make it so you’d never walk again.

However, Kim was still just a child. He needed a kinder touch. He looked back at his children: Dick, Jason, Cassandra, Tim, and Damian, and made his choice.

When Dick showed up to walk her to the school the next day, Marinette didn’t think to question how her brother got from Gotham to Paris so quick. (Cough, misuse of Zeta beam). Or why he was dressed in all black with a scary biker jacket on. She just shrugged and let him help her tie her shoes and carry her bright pink, hello kitty, and backpack.

He held her hand the entire way to school, where Kim and his dad were waiting by the doors. Kim had another daisy in his hand that he gave to Marinette.

“This is Dick,” Marinette introduced her brother. “My biggest brother. This is Kim, my boyfriend,” Kim preened. “Look, Dick, Kim got me another daisy.”

Dick beamed at his sweet little sister, “I see. Hey! Isn’t that you’re friend Rose? Why don’t you go show her?”

“Okay!” And she ran off.

As soon as she was gone, Dick’s smile quickly disappeared and he glared at the little Casanova, and his father, who felt like someone had just walked over his grave.

“My sister is a little young for a serious boyfriend,” Dick hissed. “Don’t you think? Don’t want her to grow up too fast, right?” The two could only nod in fear. “Good. Don’t hurt her. Don’t make her cry. Because I’d hate to have to have another talk with you, Chiến. It might not go as… nicely.” And with that, he left to go find his sister, leaving two terrified people in in wake.

That conversation would be the reason Kim broke up with Marinette over recess but to the girl’s dismay and why the boy wouldn’t allowed to date for another ten years.

Looking back Kim would swear darkness and shadows started to fill the schoolyard. That Marinette’s older brother’s voice got deeper and his eyes turned completely black. He had been a living nightmare, one that would haunt his dreams for years.

Marinette wouldn’t get another boyfriend for years.

Chat Noir aka Adrien Agreste; The Boy who just didn’t want to Get Neutered

Marinette never considered Adrien or Chat Noir her boyfriend. He had been her best friend, her partner, and for a long time, her crush. However, before Marinette found out who was behind the mask, and he earned the title of her best friend in the whole world.

Chat Noir had the title of Guy who can’t take a hint.

They had been just thirteen at the time. Chat had been spending for more and more time flirting with Ladybug and joking around then actually taking the fight seriously. And when he wouldn’t get the response he wanted from his Lady, he’d pout or throw a tantrum and storm off. It had been getting to be a real hassle. And as much as she liked Chat, she had been seriously considering Master Fu’s offer of getting her a permanent partner to replace him.

Then one day if all change. All the silly behavior, most of it anyway, and the constant flirting all stopped and never started back up. It would take Marinette months to find out why.

Unbeknownst to Marinette, her Papa, Bruce had been keeping a watchful eye on the deteriorating situation. The flirting, his daughter’s frustration, the lack of care. It had to be stopped. Chat Noir had a few lessons to learn.

Bruce glared harshly at the image of the cat-themed Superhero. He was proving to be a useless partner for Ladybug. And a prime example for a sexual harassment claim. “You’re sure you can handle this,” He asked son.

Damian scoffed, “I will teach that alley cat the true meaning of fear.”

“Go.”

When his son was gone and Bruce was once again alone in the Batcave, he smirked darkly at Chat Noir and all other boys who would come and go. “When you were still playing war in the school yard, I was perfecting headshots. You can’t catch up at this point.”

One night, after a particularly hazardous fight with an Akuma, Chat Noir had been running home when suddenly everything went dark.

He woke up, tied upside down, and gagged. For a few moments he thought Hawkmoth had finally gotten, wondered if this was the end.

When a sword pressed against his throat, and a chilling voice whispered in his ear, “Care to find out just how many lives you really have, fleabag?”

At the moment, Chat Noir no longer wondered if it was the end. He knew it was.

A boy, Robin, he realized glared fiercely at him.

“I should kill you,” Robin sneered. “I should rip you limb from limb and leave your head mounted on a spike to show the next fool who thought he was worthy of my sister’s hand. Ladybug is too good for the likes of scum like you.”

Chat Noir gulped. Sister? Ladybug was Robin’s sister. Adrien’s eyes widened, that meant Ladybug was Batman daughter. He was going to die. He was just going to disappear and his father, or most likely Nathalie, wouldn’t even notice until he failed to show up for his next appointment.

Gorilla would notice though, Adrien thought, he’d miss me.

Robin pressed the tip of the sword to Adrien’s face until blood was drawn. “You will cease your incessant flirting with my sister. You will train harder for your battles. And you never, ever, leave Ladybug to fight alone again. Am I clear?”

Adrien nodded his head earnestly. He’d never flirt with anyone again, he swore. He wouldn’t even celebrate Valentine’s Day. Or anything.

“And if for some miracle,” Robin hissed, “My sister deems you suitable to date, you will treat her will respect. You will never touch her without permission. And if you hurt her, Consider my genes a mark of Cain; you will suffer seven times whatever you do to her.”

Chat Noir whimpered.

A smoke bomb later. Chat Noir’s bonds were released and Robin was gone.

It took a long time for him to stop shaking.

He never flirted with Ladybug again. He worked harder and became the partner she deserved.

And when Adrien discovered Marinette was behind Ladybug’s mask, he only managed to stumble a little.

However, when Marinette told him that her brothers was coming for a visit; she couldn’t understand why he paled and stuttered out excuses for photoshoot he never mentioned before in far, far away countries. That same day, Adrien had his father taken them to Australia for vacation under the threat of Adrien dying his hair pink. He wouldn’t return for a month.

Jon Kent: The Boy who, in retrospect, really should’ve known better.

Marinette’s first real boyfriend was the son of her father’s best friend, Clark Kent, otherwise known as Superman. She had been only fourteen and it had been a summer romance while she stayed in Gotham. She had thought Jon was perfect; handsome, kind, funny…

Invulnerable to most weapons and had amazing healing factor.

Plus it’s not like her papa would kill the son of his best friend, right?

Right.

It had all been going great… until it wasn’t.

“I welcome you in my home,” Bruce hissed at the picture of Jon Kent on the bat computer. “I trained you. I trusted you. And you betrayed me.”

“Let me speak with him, father,” Damian demanded. “He is my friend. He will listen to me.”

Bruce shook his head, “That’s why I can’t send you. You’re too close to the situation. He snuck past all our defense. Now I have no choice but to do same. J?”

The Asian girl smirked, “Little Superboy will know dread.”

Jon had been visiting the fortress of Solitude when… it happened.

Before that day he had never dreamed the place would be anything less than safe, anything other than secure.

His dad had just flown off to help someone in Brazil. Jon waited patiently for him to come back while he dreamed of his beautiful new girlfriend. Marinette was amazing, perfect, and the nicest, sweetest girl ever.

When suddenly he felt a tickle in his throat, and he tried his best to clear it but it just got worse and worse. Until Jonathan Samuel Kent, Superboy (now that Connor was going as Krypton), fell to his knees as he struggled to breath.

No matter what he did, the more breaths he took, the worse he felt. It was like his lungs were on fire.

“Do not struggle,” A voice said. Jon looked up see Blackbat, Cassandra, standing above him. How did she get into the fortress? Not only could only a Kryptonian open the doors but only a member of El could be let in. It was impossible. “Struggling makes it worse.”

Jon coughed, “What?”

“The air,” Cassandra waved her hand around. “It is filled with dust. Green dust of Kryptonite. It has disable you and your powers. It’s concentrated. You will not die. The alerts of the fortress were disabled. No one is coming to help you, villain.”

Jon shook his head frantically. He wasn’t a villain. He wasn’t a bad guy. This had to be some mistake.

“No, not villain,” Cassandra corrected. “Not yet. A thief who thought he could earn my family’s trust and then steal away our most precious jewel; our princess. And do it without consequences. I am here to teach you better.”

Superboy flinched at her words.

“You will not pressure my sister,” Cassandra hissed. “You will be the gentleman we believed you to be. If you cheat on her, I will ensure you never have children. If you strike her, I will know. She will not keep your secret. You can’t make fire feel afraid. And I will come for you. Do you understand?”

Jon nodded, fear in clear in his eyes.

“Good.” She leaned forward, right into the young superhero’s face. “Some say you and your father, your cousin Kara, and Connor, are invincible. That you can’t be stopped. That you are gods among us.” She scoffed. “Let me make this, if you break my sisters’ heart, you will learn, boy of steel, that even gods bleed.”

And then she was gone, and with her all traces of kryptonite. It didn’t stop the chill that filled Jon to the core.

It was to no one’s surprise when Superman showed up at the Batcave not long after. “Bruce,” Clark asked with his arms out. “What the fuck?”

Marinette’s relationship soured when suddenly Jon was too scared to hold her hand, her be alone with her, or kiss her. She got the hint that he just wanted to be friends and broke it.

She found out a year later what really happened.

Luka Couffaine: The Boy who decided he didn’t want to sing his tune yet.

Luka had been Marinette’s first serious boyfriend. She was sixteen. They had been together for months and were getting to the ‘I love you’ stage.

He was cool. He was funny. He was a budding Rock star. He had dyed green hair, tattoos and earrings. Luka went onto tour with his band every summer. He was older than Marinette by two years. He had quite a few previous girlfriends. And he hadn’t been scared off by the normal attempts by his other kids.

In other words, he was Bruce Wayne’s worst nightmare.

And the nightmare got worse, when for the first time ever, Marinette was bringing a boyfriend home for Christmas. It was all the confirmation he needed that the things were serious.

It was why he knew he had to send the greatest soldier he had. Luka Couffaine would rue the day he decided it was good idea to ask his princess out. “Are you ready?”

Tim nodded. “I’ve done my research,” he declared. “I know what makes him to tick. I. Will. Break. Him.”

“Excellent,” He drawled out the word like it he tasting fine wine. Not caring at all that he sounded like a superman.

“You really think he’s a threat, dad?” Tim asked. “Because I can take care of it. I can have him eliminated. Ra's al ghul owes me a favor. It’ll look like an accident,” He promised. “It’ll look like he just… disappeared.”

A sense of pride filled Bruce. Tim was his most capable and resourceful soldier. He would make a great batman. Any of his kids would.

Batman stared the picture of the boy on his phone as he fought the urge to crush it in his hands. “No,” he finally answered. “I’ve known plenty of rock stars and so called bad boys in my day. Angel’s smart,” he said using Marinette’s codename. “I have been routing out indifference apathy from her life, her childhood was filled with love and affection. There are no daddy issue for his teenage talons to latch upon. Just… make sure he understands who he is dealing with.”

“Understood.” And then call ended.

He looked up and saw all the other Justice League members staring at him with expressions of awe, fear, and confusion.

“…Marinette’s got a new boyfriend, huh?” Diana asked when the call disconnected. Amusement in her tone, she knew Bruce would never seriously hurt a kid.

“Poor guy,” Barry said with a shake of his head.

Clark pinched his nose, “You can’t keep scaring guys away from her forever. Eventually, she’s going to find one who isn’t afraid of you.”

“And then she’ll marry him out of spite,” Dinah added.

There were snorts from the other league members.

“Like that’ll ever happen,” Oliver said with a shake of his head. “That kid would have to be the biggest moron in the universe. I’ll pity his family.”

Marinette had constantly warned Luka about how overprotective her family was. Luka hadn’t thought much of it. He dealt with overprotective fathers and brothers before. Eventually they grudging begin to like him. Or realize that if they actively hated him, it would just make the girl get attached.

He was excited for Christmas, excited to prove himself to the girl of his dreams, and impress her by dealing with her entire family. Luka didn’t understand why Adrien looked so afraid when he told him. Or why he asked what type of flowers he liked.

“For the funeral,” Adrien shrugged. “I need to know what to buy.”

Luka had laughed, thinking the blond was joking. He had already met a two of her brothers; Dick and Damian. They had been growls and threats but nothing he couldn’t handle. But Adrien didn’t laugh. He just shook his head and promised he’d be there for Juleka. Luka thought he was overreacting.

However, nothing. NOTHING. Could have prepared Luka for the first time he met Tim.

Luka had been walking home with Kagami, his long-time friend and one-time rival for Marinette’s affection. It was board daylight, there were tons of people around, and then they had made the apparent mistake of walking by an alley, when suddenly they were pulled into the back of a van, hoods thrown over their heads, and their hands bounds.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. Or where they were being taken. All he saw was darkness. All he felt was fear. Was this how died?

When the hoods were finally removed, the two teenagers found themselves in what looked to be a deserted warehouse, bound to their chairs, with a teenage boy not much older than they sitting across from them, looking absurdly comfortable given the situation.

My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne. I am Marinette’s older brother,” He said. “Let me make something clear before we begin. The last hour never happened. This conversation never happened. We never met. And if you say otherwise,” Tim’s eyes narrowed. “No one will believe you. I was just by dozens of witnesses in Mexico with my boyfriend less than two hours ago. But if you do tell anyone, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

They nodded not daring to say a word.

“Luka, Luka, Luka.” Tim smiled an eerie grin that should look more at home on the monsters from Horror movies, and not on such a handsome face. “I hear you’ll be visiting us over the holidays. Must be so exciting for you, meeting your girlfriend’s family. Are you excited, Luka?”

Luka swallowed hard. He never thought he’d hate the way his own name sounded. “I was- I mean I am. I am.”

“Good,” Tim said. “I just wanted to offer you a bit of advice. So you can know to expect. You see it call all be a bit… daunting to newcomers. Some people don’t understand the Wayne family’s unique tastes. Okay?”

He nodded.

Tim still smiled. In fact he never lost his smile the entire time. Yet his eyes were empty like there was no real life in them. “When you first come to my home, you will see the bone carving over the doorway. It will be hard, but try not to imagine your own femurs so expertly carved.”

At this Kagami’s eyes widened. She had done her best to remain calm but somethings were too much.

Tim smile widened, “There are one or two rooms you will not be allowed in. However, accidents happen and we understand. But we do ask that you pay no attention to our… ample crawl space. Or the smells that can sometime come from it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luka stuttered. “Sure, no problem. Man.”

“Try not to go into Father’s playroom,” Tim continued on. “It will be easy to spot. It’s mostly empty, apart from a rubber mat and a drain. He gets so testy when stranger go in there. You’ll hear strange noise from time to time but just ignore them. That is just father… playing.”

The green-haired boy just stared. Because what the fuck.

“Just follow that advice, and you should be fine,” Tim promised. “Though you are a pretty one. You both are. And we like pretty ones. Oh the things we do to pretty ones”

Luka whimpered. Kagami felt tears build in her eyes.

Tim laughed, “Now, now, none of that,” He said channeling his inner Brucie. “We’re not going to hurt. We’d never hurt Marinette’s friends.” He promised. “We would hurt people who hurt Marinette because people who hurt Marinette are not her friends.”

Red Robin looked over the two, “What I’m trying to say is. Break my sister’s heart, and we will kill you. I will kill you. You won’t see if coming. You won’t know we’re there. And if you’re lucky, you might not even feel it. Clear?” They nodded. “Excellent. Now you’re going to leave the same way you came. Remember not a word.” He smiled got even bigger.

They felt hands on their shoulders.

“Oh and Kagami,” Tim’s voice rang. “Should romantic feelings spring to life between you and Marinette again, just know our sister Cassandra is much scarier than I. And a much better shot.”

Then the black hoods and complete darkness came gain.

When they were finally let go, in the exact same place they had been taken, neither Luka nor Kagami spoke for what seemed like forever. Their minds still wrapping around what had just taken place. However, it was Kagami who finally broke the quiet.

“Well, it appears I dodge a bullet, huh,” She shrugged, her face not betraying the fear she still felt. “Sucks for you. I’m going to go propose to Chloe. I know can I take her mom in a fight. And that she’s not a serial killer.” Kagami then gave him a grave look. “Happy holiday, Luka. I’ll send best flowers to your funeral.” And the she was gone, literally fleeing down the crowded street, leaving Luka alone with his thoughts and sense of his impending doom.

He broke up with Marinette an hour later.

It would take weeks before he would willingly be in a room with her again.

Kaldur'ahm: The Boy who regretted ever walking on land.

Marinette had met her next boyfriend through her brother Tim. Ironic, considering she had just found out what he did to Luka. She had gone in for some extra training with the Black Canary when she spotted him. Kaldur; aqualad. Marinette had never talked too much with him before but found he was a very calm person and level-headed. A good leader, no matter how much Tim complained.

They had spared together one day. And another. And Another. Then he asked her out. It was sweet… While it lasted. And it didn’t last long.

Batman had looked at Kaldur’s picture, scoffed, and said, “Jason?”

The sound of a gun clocking was heard, “Little Mermaids going down.”

Unlike his brothers, Redhood had no time for mind games. He went for the quickest route.

Aquaman burst into room where the justice league meeting was, “He shot Kaldur,” He roared to Batman. “The Red Hood shot Aqualad!”

Bruce didn’t bat an eye, “Is he alive?”

“Yes,” The King of the seas said quickly. “But that’s not point.”

“Seems like it is,” Bruce said and went on with the meeting leaving a stuttering, red-faced Aquaman still standing there.

It was to one’s surprise when Kaldur dumped Marinette and was gone. Disappeared to the safety of Atlantis. And when he came back, Marinette was barred from Young Justice Headquarters.

It was on that day, that Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Wayne decided enough was enough.

Roy Harper-Queen: The Boy who should start making better life choices

It was weird to say but Marinette met the boy who would turn out to be the love of her life when she was ten-years-old. And then sometime after her eighteenth birthday, she would team up with his clone to go rescue him. They became friends, went on missions together. It was a year later that he asked her out.

Roy was pissed at the world, ready to die for anything if it meant he’d went fight, had a rude mouth, feared nothing and no one, and didn’t play by anyone’s rule but his own. In other words, he was perfect.

Marinette just never meant to fall in love. She certainly didn’t expect to say yes when proposed.

They had been keeping their relationship a secret from both their families for over two years. They were happy together. They loved each other.

But more importantly, they could plot revenge together.

And revenge was sweet.

It all played out during a Justice League meeting. Roy, Red Arrow, and Ladybug had been full members for quite some time. The meeting was just about to close, when Roy stood up, “I have an announcement to make,” He said. “Red Arrow will be withdrawing from missions for the perceivable future. As will Ladybug,” He looked at Marinette who nodded firmly.

“What’s going on, Roy?” Oliver asked his once wayward son, with a frown.

Batman eyed them suspiciously. As did the other members of the batfamily, all were present. Apart from Alfred because Marinette liked Alfred.

Wonder Woman frowned, “Are you going solo again, I thought you were happy.”

“We’re fine. We’re very happy,” Roy said slowly before taking a deep breath and doing the bravest thing he ever would in his entire life. “Ladybug’s pregnant and I’m the father.”

A few seconds passed before the words were processed in the Superheroes mind.

Bruce’s eyes widened, his mind stopped working, and then a snarl ripped form his throat as he moved to attack. The batkids joining him.

“Alpha Code Angelbug” Flash shouted.

That was all the other league need to go into defensive positions around Roy, against the batfamily. Marinette remained where she was with glee in her eyes. Superman stood in front of Roy, blocking him from view and potential danger.

The Flash, Cyborg, Black Canary, Wonder Woman, and the Green Arrow stood in front of them. Oliver aimed at arrow at Batman, “Don’t move!” He yelled. “Don’t you dare move, Bruce. I’ll do it. Roy’s my son. And I won’t let you hurt him.”

Batman growled, “He. I. My daughter!”

“Get Roy out of here, Superman,” Wonder Woman ordered. “We’ll hold him off but we can’t do it for long.” She stepped towards Bruce. “Marinette’s a grown woman. She makes her own choices.”

Dick shook his head, anger clear on his face, “Dude, you were my friend.”

Damian snarled, “Harper’s a sneak and a coward.”

“No honor,” Cassandra agreed.

Jason just looked at his best friend, “I love you…. But you’re dead.”

Tim just growled.

“No one’s dead or dying,” Marinette said as got up. “Because I’m not pregnant,” She said loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. She walked to her boyfriend and pulled him out from behind his shield. “But Roy and I have been dating for almost three years. And we’re getting married. You can be happy for us. Or I can never talk to you again.”

Roy grinned, “Pops,” he said to Oliver, whose face was torn between relief and fury at it was prank. “We thought you and Bruce could be the main wedding planners. With the rest of the Queens and Waynes helping out; you know now that we’re going to be family. ”

With that the two lovebird left the room, leaving the chaos they had created.

Silence filled the room as Batman and Green Arrow stared at the other.

Oliver gulped. He let out a breathy chuckle, “So I think a wedding in Star City would be great. Lots of Lilies. The Queen family loves lilies.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed, “Gotham, roses.”

Black Canary crossed her arms, “Star City would be safer.”

“Gotham is far more beautiful,” Tim snapped back.

And just like that, battle lines were drawn. Justice League members’ face turned weary.

Whether they knew it or not, that was Marinette and Roy’s last act of revenge.

Forget Batman vs Superman.

Try Bruce Wayne versus Oliver Queen: billionaire against billionaire, father against father. Elsewhere, thousands of journalist, photographers, florists, and caterers trembled and they didn’t know why.

#LadyArrow #Marienette Dupain Cheng #Marinette deserves better #batfamily #oliver queen #roy harper #Tim Drake #cassandra cain #dick grayson #damian wayne #jason todd #ml fic #ml salt #vixen-uchiha

3K notes · View notes

heyitsani · 3 years

Text

Loving You is a Losing Game Chapter 1

@jaydick-week Day 2 fic: Fairytale AU

Word Count: 3,543

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Monsters and Magic

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson

Summary: When Batman goes missing, Nightwing is called in to try and track the man down. What he finds at the spot Batman was last seen is something he's not sure he's equipped to deal with. But that doesn't stop him from doing what he has to in order to get Batman out. Even if it means becoming the poisoner of a strange shadow man in a Gothic castle hidden behind a wall of magic on the edge of Gotham.

Notes: This is my Beauty and the Beast AU set in the comics (sort of...I’ve changed some details and you’ll understand once it’s all done). I’m not sure how many chapters this one will have but here is the first. I just wanted to be able to post at least part of the stories I prepared for the week since I wasn’t able to finish any of them.

You can also read it on AO3 here

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He felt the person before he heard them, and the presence alone was enough for Dick to tense up in ways he’d rather not admit happened. This was not a confrontation he was in the mood for at the moment, but apparently he was going to have to have it none the less.

“Deathstroke,” he said flatly, turning to look at the other man standing a few feet away in his familiar orange and black gear.

The white-haired man gave a smirk that boiled Dick’s blood, but he refused to react. “Nightwing, how lovely to see you tonight.” Dick never understood why Slade kept up the pretense of these meetings being unplanned. They weren’t. He might be oblivious to many things, but when a predator is stalking him has never been one of them. He was well aware of what Slade was doing when he appeared out of nowhere.

“Is there something I can do for you tonight? Or are you just here to get in my way.”

“Just curious how my favorite Little Bird was doing,” the man said as he leaned against the brick wall that held the door to head down into the building he had made his perch for the night. “I’ve heard some interesting rumors over the past couple of months and I wanted to see if they were true.”

This was a dangerous game, Dick knew that. He should just ignore Slade and head to a different spot in hopes the man would leave him alone, but his curiosity was also burning. What kind of rumor could Slade have possibly heard involving him.

Sighing, Dick turned to face the man. “And what rumors are those?” He took the bait. He frowned when Slade’s smirk turned predatory and made Dick want to take a few steps back to get more space between them. Despite there being about ten feet already.

“Nightwing hasn’t been seen in Gotham for almost half a year. And the hero community is wondering why the Titans have lost their leader suddenly.” Rolling his eyes behind his mask, Dick crossed his arms over his chest. “Now…you fighting with Daddy Bats isn’t all that strange, but six months? When there’s still the little Robin running around not fully trained?”

Dick didn’t point out that Damian was Batman’s own son and had been trained by the League of Assassins. He was more trained than any of them had ever been. And he made sure to point it out frequently to Tim.

“And that you have left behind your precious Titans? Now that’s surprising.” But Dick knew he no one other than the team knew why he had separated himself from them and they all accepted it. He hadn’t been ousted or banned. He had left because he had needed to. “Are you isolating yourself, Little Bird?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

Slade shrugged and pushed away from the wall, taking a few long strides to close some of the distance between them. “Seems to me that you are pushing away everyone in your life, Kid. Perhaps you’re ready for your true destiny?” Dick frowned. “Join me. You know it’s inevitable.”

Dick laughed. Actually laughed at the words and shook his head.

“Dream on, Slade. I say it every time you bring it up,” Dick reminded him, uncrossing his arms. “Until the world has burned, I will never join you.”

“Don’t tempt me, Kid.”

Instead of responding, Dick just rolled his eyes and took a step back off the edge of the roof, free falling for a moment before shooting off his grapple in the direction of where he had parked his motorcycle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Agent A,” Dick said into his comm when he heard Alfred’s voice bleeding through. He was surprised to be hearing from the older man, but welcomed it none the less. Even if it was coming in the middle of a fight.

Landing a punch across the jaw of one of the goons and vaulting himself over the falling body to swiftly knock the other down with a firm kick to his chest, he breathed heavily. “Nightwing, I require your assistance in Gotham.” Frowning, Dick knelt down and zip-tied the hands of the goons together before sending off the signal and coordinates to BPD.

“You require it? Or Batman does?” He questioned as he shot his grapple up to get off the street and out of the area before the cops arrived. While the cops of BPD had gotten better over time, they still had an arrest order for all vigilantes. So it was always best that he just left before they arrived. “What’s going on?”

“Batman has not been seen for about 48 hours now. Robin and Red Robin are off world with the Titans at the moment and I know Batman would rather keep the search in the family before involving the League.” Which made sense in Bruce’s mind, but considering their hero friends had been vanishing left and right over the last two years, Dick thought it was somewhat foolish. “Might you make your way to the Cave?”

Figuring out where he was in relation to his motorcycle, Dick took off in the direction of where he had stashed it. “I’m on my way now. Tell me what he was doing the night he went missing.” He listened to Alfred relay the major points of the missing hero case that the entire community was working on while holding down their various cities. He listened as Alfred talked about Bruce starting the suspect something was happening in an abandon warehouse on the outskirts of town, not far from Crime Alley.

Dick confirmed that Bruce had mentioned that to him about a year ago and Dick had told Bruce that there was no activity in the area after running the scans. But apparently that didn’t mean Bruce had dropped it. It just meant he didn’t immediately deal with whatever it was that was happening there.

“Master Bruce linked these three heroes and their disappearances with that warehouse,” Alfred said as he pulled open three filed. Dick frowned when the faces of Roy Harper, Koriand’r, and Wally West appeared on the screen. Three of his closest friends whose absences he had felt deeply. If Donna’s face had come up alongside them then he would have left immediately. “All three had come to town for various reasons and all vanished when leaving in that direction.”

“And Bruce thinks they vanished in the warehouse so he what? He went there to try and figure out what was happening?”

Alfred nodded and pulled up a video, which Dick easily figured out was the cowl recording from the night he went missing. Dick watched from Bruce’s eyes as the batmobile came to a stop on the outskirts of the three-building area. His mentor took a moment to scan the area and look for any signs of life, but when the readings seemed to glitch he still decided to go in. An action Dick had specifically been told not to do if he had experienced the same thing.

“Magic,” Bruce had said when Dick had reported his findings.

But Bruce exited the car and headed toward the first of three buildings. And just as Dick leaned forward, pressing his hands on the desk to watch closely, the screen glitched again and then static. Scanning the screen for the readings of the video, he frowned. “What the hell was that?”

“My thoughts? It is the same magic you encountered when you had gone to scout the area at Master Bruce’s request.”

Dick straightened and frowned. That was heavy magic if it was able to cut everything off from Bruce. And it made Dick wonder if Bruce had somehow managed to get stuck behind the wall. “Is Zatanna one of the missing?” There had been so many that he couldn’t remember all of them. Alfred’s nod filled him with dread. “I have to go check it out.”

“Could I advise you to go to the Watchtower before you do?”

“There’s no time. He’s been missing for two days and some change. I need to head in there.” Dick frowned, grabbing his mask from where he had set it down when he had arrived. “But you should contact Clark immediately. I’m not sure if they’ll be able to spare any of the other magic users, but let them know what Bruce had suspected.” He turned to head back to his motorcycle but paused when Alfred’s hand landed on his upper arm. “I have to go, Alf. I can’t just leave him there.”

“I understand my boy, just be careful. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.” Dick gave a nod before continuing to his motorcycle. “I will contact the League and try to get the Robins to return to Earth.”

“Thanks Alf. I’ll keep you updated for as long as I can.”

He gave the older man one last smile before he gunned the engine and sped out of the Cave toward the warehouse where he would face too many unknown variables.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulling up to the same place where Bruce had parked the batmobile, Dick frowned when he noticed the car was no longer there. They were far enough away from the majority of the city that thieves wouldn’t have gotten to it, but that didn’t account for whatever magic that had been used to protect this area. So he carefully set his motorcycle into stealth mode and left it tucked between two smaller buildings in the area. If he was lucky, it would be there to get him and Bruce back to the cave once he found the other man.

“I’m approaching now, Agent A,” he reported to Alfred through the comms, sticking to the shadows as he approached. He kept one eye on the grounds and the other on any possible movement around him. “I didn’t notice it last time, but you can actually see the current.” He moved to stand about a foot away from the now just slightly visible wall of magic. He looked up, trying to see how far it went, but after about ten feet, the angle didn’t provide a good look.

It almost reminded him of heat waves that came off the pavement during the worst of Gotham’s summers.

Reaching out a hand, Dick carefully touched the wall and jerked a hand back when it felt like he had been zapped by one of his escrimas. “It feels like electricity,” he said into the comm but the reply he got back was crackled and broken. And that meant he was probably on his own. “I’m not sure if you can hear me anymore, but I’m going in. Call for the League and the Robins. Find a magic user and get them here if you can. I’ll bring him back, Alf.” And with a deep breath, he stepped forward and into the wall of magic.

And when he came out on the other side, he bent forward with his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. “That is not a good time,” he groaned to himself as he tried to pull himself together. With a few more deep breaths, Dick straightened and gasped in surprise at the sight of what was on the other side of the wall.

The image projected on the city side of the wall was what he remembered the area to look like. Three large, abandoned warehouses and their various grounds surrounding them. Gray and boring, weathered from the lack of upkeep and use. But what was before him seemed almost gothic in comparison. In fact, it looked like some of the older buildings of the city. Gargoyles and all. The plain concrete walls had been replaced with stone, vines that had not been there two years ago had begun to creep up them giving them an even more aged look.

The grounds themselves were green and reminded him far more of the Manor than what he would have expected a warehouse to look like. They also looked immaculately kept. It was almost as if whoever had done the spell had taken a gothic castle and placed it on the edge of Gotham while making every one in the city believe the warehouses remained.

It made Dick feel like he had a rock in his stomach. This was a very powerful spell.

Scouting the area as best he could, Dick carefully made his way forward with his escrimas in hand and ready for a fight. He didn’t know what he was bound to encounter, but he wasn’t going to chance not being prepared. Not when it might be Bruce’s life on the line.

When the grounds revealed little information, Dick snuck his way inside through one of the windows in the front and quietly made his way through the main foyer. The more he saw of the building, the heavier the pit in his stomach got.

The sound of fierce whispering hit his senses as he came to the base of a set of stairs.

Nightwing, it is Nightwing.

He frowned, looking around to try and find the source.

Nightwing can do it.

He wanted to ask what exactly the whisperers thought he could do, but instead he remained silent and looked up the stairs. There was a faint light further up and like a moth, Dick made his way toward it. The whispers got quieter and quieter the further up he went. Until they had vanished all together and he was standing at the top of the stairs, looking at something that he was struggling to understand. It looked like cells but it wasn’t making sense in his head.

Of course, if this really was some sort of medieval structure, it would make sense for there to be a tower with cells for keeping prisoners. But what that even what this was.

The sound of movement from one of the ones on the right caught his attention and with barely a thought, he rushed forward to peer inside. “Batman!” He cried, latching his escrimas on his back before gripping the bars of the cell door. “Are you okay?!” He questioned as he looked the older man over.

“Nightwing,” the name came out as a groan and Dick frowned. Bruce looked roughed up, but he didn’t look like he was in that bad of condition. “You have to leave. Get out of here now. Before it takes you like it took them all.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going to just leave you here,” he shook his head before searching his utility belt for his lock pick so he could get the cell open and get Bruce out of there. He had just about gotten the lock open when a loud crash sounded behind him and he was flying toward the cells on the other side of the small hallway.

“What are you doing here?!” The question was practically growled, and Dick tried to focus on the source but all he could see was a shadow and a pair of glowing green eyes. “You don’t belong here. Leave!”

Shaking his head, Dick looked over at Bruce before looking back to the shadow. “I’m not leaving without Batman.”

“Yes, you are,” the shadow growled. “He’s my prisoner. He’s cursed to remain.”

Dick carefully stood to his feet and grabbed his escrimas, moving into a fighting stance. “I’m not leaving without him. So either you give him to me or I take him.”

“Nightwing, no!”

But Dick ignored Bruce’s call and carefully moved so he was standing in front of his mentor’s cell. He didn’t know who or what it was he was facing, but he had fought enough in his years to be adaptable. “Dick, please just go. Get out while you can.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“One of you is leaving before I really lose my temper.”

That gave Dick pause. “One of us?” The shadow seemed to tilt it’s head and Dick considered the idea building in his mind. He could get Bruce out of there. He could get Bruce home to Alfred. And Bruce would figure out a way to get him out of there. He could do that. Dick would never be able to figure out how to combat magic like this. He wasn’t sure even their magic users in the League would be able to. But Batman always found a way. “Take me instead.”

“What?”

“No!”

“You heard me. Take me instead. Release Batman and I’ll take his place.”

“You…” the shadow paused, sounding almost awed. “You would do that for him?”

“Yes.”

“Dick don’t do this, please.”

Turning his head just slightly to lock eyes with Bruce, Dick pursed his lips. “I have to. You’ll figure it out. You’re already there. I trust you.” The man frowned but understanding filled his eyes and he gave Dick a firm nod. Turning back to the shadow, Dick latched his escrimas again and raised his chin. “I’ll stay as long as I have to if you promise to let him go safely on the other side of the magical wall.”

There was silence before the shadow moved like liquid, shoving Dick out of the way and getting Bruce out of the cell. In a blink of an eye, the pair were gone and Dick was left alone wondering what he was supposed to do now. He just risked his life on Bruce being able to figure this out. He had given up everything because he trusted the man enough to get to the bottom of whatever was happening here. Dick trusted Bruce and Nightwing trusted Batman, but jumping in front of a bullet was different than trapping himself inside a magical dome with no connection to the outside world.

With a deep breath, Dick pulled the mask off his eyes and looked around the room he supposed he would be staying in. The cells were stereotypical for a medieval castle and under any other circumstance, he would probably laugh at that. But now this was his...home?

“Come,” a voice came out of nowhere, causing him to jump and quickly turn toward the staircase he had come up.

The shadow was back.

More magic, he mused to himself. “What?” He questioned the command, wary of what the game might be here.

The shadow shifted and moved forward, stepping into the light to reveal a man. Not a shadow at all. Blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and green eyes. He was tall but not as tall as the shadow had made him appear to be. And not as bulky, but still solid in muscle mass and strength. “Do you want to stay up here?” The man growled, his green eyes taking on an almost glowing look to them. It made Dick take a step back in self-preservation.

“No, but I thought…” This was where Bruce had been kept after all. Why was he not to assume that it would be the same for him?

“You thought wrong.” The man turned and headed down the stairs and after a short hesitation, Dick hurried to follow. He kept quiet as he followed the man down the stairs he had come up in the beginning and then down the halls toward a different wing of the castle. “This is your home now. You can go anywhere you like but the West Wing.”

Dick glanced behind him, remembering the staircase they had passed that would have been in the westward direction. “What’s in the West Wing?” He asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. He blamed Bruce and his need to raise detectives.

“Nothing of your concern!” The man ground out, turning to glare at Dick with his glowing green eyes. And though he wanted to take a step back, he resisted the urge. He did, however, give a slight nod of understanding to pacify the man instead. There was a moment of pause before he seemed pacified and they continued on the path. “You will stay here,” the man said when they reached an elaborately carved, pair of double doors. Dick looked up at them before stepping forward and inside the room after he pushed the doors open.

The room itself looked as though it had come right out of a movie. Four post bed, gleaming silvers and blues all over. The bed looked plush and the furniture was likely hand carved. Everything was polished and smooth, gleaming under the lighting. It was ornate and fancy and Dick hated it. But that might have had more to do with it being his prison than it being overly done.

He heard the man clear his throat and Dick turned to find he remained in the doorway of the room, looking hesitate to enter. But that was something Dick had no desire to unpack that right then. Not when he was still technically a prisoner.

“If you need anything, the others are always lingering.” The man glanced around the room before straightening his spine. “I expect you to join me for dinner.” Dick frowned when the man turned away and slammed the door behind him. Sighing, Dick turned in a small circle before dropping down onto the edge of the bed.

#jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #slade wilson #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #beauty and the beast au #jaydickweek2021 #anikah writes

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story-collector · 4 years

Text

Maribat AU AU!

Adrien and Marinette are 13 when they become miraculous holders

14 when they add to the team (Chloe, Kagami, Luka)

14 when the save Damian from bleeding out on a mission gone bad.

The League of assassins want him back

They start fighting team miraculous

To bad Ass bois, we've adopted Damian and you cant have him back

At 15 Marinette becomes the Guardian

She gives Damian the turtle miraculous for when he goes on patrol with him

They want him to have a real childhood so they try to keep him from the fighting

But theres only so much they can do about a 9 year old that was raised as an assassin

He has energy

Patrol seems to help

And occasionally he gets to beat up someone

But not often

He is Precious and he is absolutely not allowed to fight in real akuma or league battles

(He tried once and they took away his miraculous for a month and didnt give it back till he apologized. They were all very emotional about their child that didnt get a childhood)

(Adrien connects with him pretty well)

Over time they add more to the team (Alix, Kim, Max and Nathaniel) as the fighting gets worse

Damian doesnt like the fighting or his family getting hurt (yes he considered the miraculous team his family, both in and out of the masks) so he leaves (leaving the turtle miraculous behind)

The team is devastated and search for him for months

They are more vicious with the Akuma during fighting

(Also Lie-la comes in but that's normal for maribat)

Shortly after Damian leaves canon stuff happens and he is brought to Bruce

Damian doenst like these new people

He misses the family he made in Paris

They learned Arabic for him!

And taught him English, and French and Mandrin, and some Japanese and Italian (he was still learning) and sign language! (American, British, French, Arabic)

He doenst like this new family

They arent as affectionate and he misses that

He closes off again

He still becomes Robin

But he feels that he is betraying his old family by fighting in battles

Anyway

Usual Gotham trip

The miraculous team helped Marinette (class president) plan the trip, send in the application and fundraise (plus extra)

They win, Lie-la takes the credit, and some things get changed (like where they are staying. Luckily they saved extra because even though the stay is cheaper the extra prices are not) ( and its next to crime alley (I dont remember who's idea this was but I didnt come up with it))

Kagami is on the trip

Luka is the only one in paris

But they have the miraculous box and Kaalki (mabey Max has her, that seems pretty canon by now or mabey it is idk I didnt watch s3)

(Also Marinette hasn't taken off the turtle miraculous since Damian left)

They know the tricks Lie-la will pull

(They get left at the airport. That's 8 students that you "forgot" Bustier(?) But they are a well oiled fighting machine and some of them have a good sense of direction so they make it to the hotel fine)

(Also not my idea but I forgot the owner (I need to bookmark stuff more) but the class has to wait because marinette is the only one who can get passes and check in because she won the contest so they are waiting there)

(She apologizes profusely to all the staff for her classmates behavior, they all adore her (mabey background twitter posts? Also not my idea))

Anyway

They plan to get up two hours early every day.

Theres no way that they can miss anything

(Also batfam themed outfits because Marinette is MDC)

(Overly connected Marinette and miraculous group because their just that good, they also dont flaunt it so no one really knows)

Usual Lie-la "I'm dating Damain Wayne and I had a fling with (insert Wayne family member)" Rossi

(Damian is 13 here, the class is all around 17-18)

Wayne tour day!

Get up 2 hours early and go out to explore

Leave note with front desk to let them know if Bustier asks about them and to tell them that they went out (they try Bustier tells them off, shes trying to do a "headcount" and she doenst listen)

The group is very nice to everyone

Also!

Mom friend Mari

Chlogami

Acedrien (Ace Adrien)

Alix×Kim×Max

Nathaniel and Marc (Marc is still in Paris)

Wander Gotham (Chloe, Kagami, and Adrien have been here with parents so they know some places)

Impromptu photoshoot with batfam outfits (much badassery in pose choices)

Breakfast at a cafe near wayne tower

Meet exhausted tim

Mom friend Marinette takes over

No more coffee young man

Tim is mothered

Tim gets adopted

He fine with this

He likes being cared for (dont tell jason or dick) (batfam needs to get on the actual family aspects of a family, come on now yall)

He also just pulled a 48 hour work "day"

Asks for a photo with his adopted new family

It's his new homescreen

Jeez this is long

No regrets, let's keep going

Marinette is Batman (batmom! No be quiet Adrien)

Adrien is Spoiler (purple looks good on you Agreste. Thanks batmom)

Alix is Red Hood (you dont even need a helmet! Yes you do. Yes batmom)

Max is Red Robin (tech bois unite! Thank you Adrien)

Kim is Orphan (gotta represent those badass girls yall!)

Chloe is Nightwing (you both have that wonderful sunny disposition. Shut up Dupain Cheng)

Kagami is Robin (you guys are so alike it's scary. I agree. Same)

Nathaniel is Batgirl (didnt she die though? No) (here is where a second HC can fit in)

So anyway they have met Tim, adopted him.

Even though hes 17

And their 17/18

Hes their child now

They spend an hour talking and stuff

Then they remember, oh yeah tour

So Tim takes them to Wayne Tower (he has promised to go home after they start the tour. He doesnt want to upset his new parents and aunts and uncles)

Dick is already there and tired of the group because she "forgot" 8 students (8!)

And hes been listening to Lie-la complain and lie for like 45 minutes

They cant start the tour with out Marinette but Bustier insists that it's fine and I basically being a little shit

They arrive with Tim and Dick is like immediately ok now we have a new sister and then he realizes that shes Marinette

The group goes over to him

The rest of the class hasn't noticed them

They drop off Tired Tim

And she sincerely apologizes to him and the staff for her classmates behavior and gathers the passes so that the tour can start

Dick has basically claimed her AND the rest of her group and his flock now

Especially when Tim tells hime what they did for him

(The outfits are a definite bonus. They would fit right in!)

Ok I'm running out of ideas

But basically they do the tour

Regular maribat shenanigans

They meet Damian at some point

He turns back into the child hes supposed to be and crystal on their shoulders and basically refuses to leave them

Obviously theres an identity reveal

Marinette absolutely demolishes Bruce because HE WAS 10 DAMNIT! LET HIM BE A CHILD INSTEAD OF A SOLDIER!

Also Marinette fashionista (who the hell told you that was a good design. No I'm making you a new one)

Lie-la falls (stop lieing about my family Rossi. Damian be nice to the rat)

Hawkmoth gets revealed (just because your a good detective doenst mean I forgive you)

Mabey they get adopted by the rouges (they knows our science, they're good with plants, they're absolutely adorable, they're smart)

Mabey Iceberg lounge because come on I want to see more of that!

But yeah this is what I've got.

I'll add the stuff for Nathaniels HC on a different post.

#tim drake #batman #batfamily #damian wayne #damian al ghul #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #team miraculous #miraculous au #miraculous ladybug #au #dc #ml/dc

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watchtower-feed · 4 years

Text

Dating Bruce Wayne

Notes: Sorry for these drabbles. I’m working on something long and big and has something to do with Jason and the soulmate link. So enjoy these fillers for a bit.

✧ Dating Bruce Wayne is definitely what it has been advertised to be. He lives like he has his own timezone. He flirts and charms everyone he meets, man or woman.

✧ Most of the time you would find yourself waiting at a restaurant for an hour before Alfred would text you that Bruce can’t make it because he’s being held up. There are never any specifics as if you had no right to know.

✧ When he does show up, he’s late, he looks like a mess, and he greets you with a lop-sided smile and half-lidded eyes. And you melt because you remember that he did choose you and you do love him.

✧ “I miss you,” is his hello and his bitter goodbye, holding your hand for too long while he makes the car service wait. It’s minutes before he lets go and closes your door. But when you look back in the moving car, he’s already gone.

✧ Bruce’s absence is always outweighed by his affection. He loves touching you even if it’s just your shoulders or your fingers or your elbows. He always find a way to be close to you when you’re together.

✧ He doesn’t give you expensive gifts or take you out of the city or country impulsively. That part of the rumors and gossip is far from the truth. Everything he does is thoughtful and sincere. You have early dinners in cute little restaurants that feel like home.

✧ You go hiking, rock climbing, rappelling, swimming, diving, and even skydiving. You’re convinced Bruce is definitely a daredevil. So you start running in the mornings and at night just to keep up.

“You should be careful when you run at night. Kelley street can be dangerous on some nights. Why not stick to the main street?”

Your eyes would widen, “How do you know I was there last night?”

He’d grin and avoid your gaze, “I’m friends with Batman.”

✧ Never mind Bruce’s absence. What you really hate the most about dating this misunderstood billionaire is how often his life is in danger. He gets kidnapped twice a week, at least. By petty criminals, insane villains, and Batman himself.

✧ There was a time when Bruce had a welfare project for Arkham City that made him the target of every single villain so Batman had to kidnap Bruce himself and he was gone for weeks. When Batman finally returned him to his room, where you have been staying in his absence for your safety and sanity, you run up to snatch your man and punch Batman’s jaw. It hurt like hell and Bruce is quickly rubbing your knuckles.

“Y-you! You stay away from him. It’s because of you that his life is always in danger and--”

“Y/N,” Bruce holds you in his arms, tucking your head safe against his chest while you cry. When you turn back to the caped crusader, he’s already gone.

“It’s not his fault.”

“I know,” you whisper.

✧ The next time you see Batman, you would stare at each for a while, wondering if you should apologize or say thank you. He holds up his hand and shakes his head with a smile before he disappears into the night. You were a little pissed that you didn’t even say anything and he just assumed things.

✧ One of your favorite things though is definitely seeing the family. Most of the time you see Alfred and always try to tease recipes out of him which expertly deflects.

✧ Whenever Bruce’s children are at the manor, he invites you because they love you and he knows you love them, too.

✧ What’s not to love? The eldest was the most proper gentleman and then a week after first meeting him, he turns into the cheekiest flirt that teases you and Bruce. You love to play along with him because it makes Bruce very uncomfortable.

“So how’s his equipment these days? He’s getting old, might need to start baking in that oven soon.” Everyone around would spit out anything they’re drinking or just gape. Except for you.

“Oh, the equipment is still in very good condition.” Dick laughs hard at that. “As for the oven… I think there’s enough of all of you to love for several lifetimes. Right, Bruce?”

Bruce rolls his eyes with a smile as his children tease him and jump on him at the same time.

✧ You’ve never thought about having kids with Bruce because whenever you’re around his kids, it feels like they’re yours as well. Especially Damian.

✧ He would always tug on your clothes to get your attention (ever since he accidentally called you mom and his siblings never let him live it down).

“You’re leaving now?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m sorry,” you crouch down and hug him tight like a teddy bear, “but hey. When your dad goes away on business tomorrow, I’ll be staying here for a week. Does that sound good?”

He hums and kisses you on the cheek before he walks back into the manor.

You turn to Bruce, wide eyes, mouth open, and touching your cheek, “Did you just see that? He’s so precious.”

Bruce nods his head and chuckles.

✧ Tim, Cass, and Jason were a different story. They were a lot more reserved and doesn’t really know how to talk to you first so you do it because you don’t want them to feel left out. You thought doing a puzzle with them was such a great idea. You thought wrong.

“Tim, stay on your fucking side.”

“It’s a puzzle, Jason.”

“We’re supposed to be doing this together,” you instinctively say. Big mistake.

Jason glares, “Who the fuck died and made you boss?”

A slap rings loudly in the living room, making everyone gape at Bruce’s tall figure. You look between Jason and Bruce and then approach Jason. He quickly slaps your hand away and Bruce is tensing again. You quickly get up and hold Bruce in place until Jason leaves the room.

✧ You drag Bruce into the study and slap him hard. Your hand hurts but that doesn’t stop you from glaring and yelling at him.

“How does it feel, Bruce? Do you feel shocked and embarrassed? That’s what Jason is feeling right now. He probably feels hurt too.” Bruce stays and avoids your gaze. “God! Jason didn’t even mean it. You know how he is, he’s just very expressive and there’s nothing wrong with that. But everything is wrong about hitting your child even if-- no. Especially if you say you did it for me.”

✧ You keep yelling at him and warning him not to hurt his children no matter their fault. Tim and Cass can hear you from the living room and look at each other with pained expressions. Jason hides in the hallway and listens to you berate Bruce, his hand on his cheek.

✧ When you get home from a stressful day at work and still no messages from Bruce after the fight days ago, you find three of his children on the floor trying to finish the puzzle. They greet you like it’s the most normal thing to come home to. You drop your things and quickly go to them, tugging them all into one hug until their faces are squished together and the puzzle pieces are in disarray.

“I thought I would never get to see you again.”

Jason rubs your back and you nuzzle your nose against his cheek.

Tim laughs, “Are you kidding? Your slap pretty much made Bruce love you even more.”

Cassandra snorts, “If that’s even possible.”

✧ Bruce is getting a little concerned at how violent you’re getting though. He thinks it might be his influence and you laugh so hard he pouts like a child.

“You? I think it makes more sense to blame Batman. That freak just makes my blood boil and suddenly I have all this pent up rage and I don’t know where it came from.”

Bruce blinks for a moment before he laughs, doubled over, clutching his stomach.

✧ Sometimes you’re sad when you see how Bruce acts around children. Whether it’s a charity event, Wayne orphanage visit, or just walking past them in the street, he always slows down and takes the time to converse with them. His eyes would widen as he listens to them talk and then his laugh would be the loudest.

✧ Sometimes you forget that Bruce Wayne isn’t just the playboy rich kid the media has pegged him to be. He was also just a child. A child who lost his parents too soon. Truly he’s a child of Gotham through and through.

✧ You would curl up against Bruce in the car and nuzzle your cheeks against his shoulder. He would smile but raise an eyebrow.

“Something good happened today?”

You shake your head, “Every day is good when I’m with you.”

✧ Things are getting way too serious and public between you and Bruce, and the day he has dreaded the most has finally come. You’re kidnapped and held for ransom for Bruce Wayne’s head.

✧ Bruce has prepared long and hard for this. It was part of the reason why he decided to date you seriously. Because he can handle this.

✧ You scream at him that he’s an idiot for coming to get you alone. He smiles and says he’s missed you.

You cry, “They’re going to kill you, Bruce.”

He smiles, “They can try.”

✧ Of course, you mutter. He has backup. Batman saves you first and you’re already yelling at him for picking up the wrong person.

“It’s Bruce they’re after!”

Batman only groans and leaves you on the roof with Robin. He comes back with Bruce Wayne, suit slashed and hair disheveled, but no wounds. They leave you there while they clean up the thugs in the warehouse.

✧ “Bruce,” you call out to him in a low voice and it makes him panic, assessing where your injuries are. You hold his arms, “Marry me.”

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #Bruce Wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne fanfiction #dating series #watchtower-feed #Acropen #lexyartem

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kasieli · 4 years

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Fights and Flights: What Happens Undercover, Stays Undercover Chapter 8

A/N: Hey, guys, it’s finally here. I figured since some websites don’t entirely work for everyone, I’d just post a text version here, too. Links for the ff.net and wattpad are listed at the end! Also, I may or may not have a small comic that goes along with this ;) Anyways, please enjoy!

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"You think that just because you're the son of Bruce Wayne, that you can get away with anything." This varsity-jacket-wearing dumbo in front of them was practically fuming. "Well, you're Gotham's little princess after all, aren't you?" He added with a sarcastic smirk as he took one heated stomp closer and closer and closer towards a placid Damian. "Did you know, Damian Wayne," he spat, "I was the hotshot around here before you showed up?" He cracked his neck, rolling it with a wicked smile. "I'd rather keep it that way."

Raven exhaled slowly as her eyes darted around the hallway. Azar, it seemed like all of Gotham Academy was watching. How did Damian's mere action of bumping into this hotshot get him into this predicament? Undercover her ass. This was Damian Wayne! If he tripped over and broke his nose on the sidewalk (not that he would, ever) it would be all over the Gotham Academy newspaper! Of course he would bring attention to any and everything he did — especially running into this sleazebag jock.

Jeez, she knew it wasn't on purpose either but she knew Damian, and she knew (as a solid fact, she might add) that he was entirely enjoying this soon-to-be sprawl.

And as predicted, when her eyes shot over to Damian, while he wore an overall composure of calmness, there it was, right on that smug face of his.

Damian's signature remark — the first thing she noticed when they battled together. That stupid thing she hated to admit that she...kind of liked.

His signature defiant smirk.

Azar.

"Please," Damian purred, his voice low and husky and so...nevermind, "enlighten me as to how you plan to do that."

He sauntered slowly, lips pursed into a tight line, bright eyes aflame, eyebrow quirked, neck bared, and anger vein exposed. How could someone possibly be dumb enough to pick a fight with Damian? The Bruce Wayne's son? And even as just Damian he was a type A "I'll kick your ass if you speak to me" type of person, let alone the separate brat entity that was Robin.

She wished that she was next to him like in battle, ready to beat up this asshole in front of her, but in the rush of the spectacle, she was shoved into the audience. Just a mere spectator — like the rest of the students. Basically...all the students. The next class had already started too, but apparently no one could resist the urge of watching the battle of Mr. Hotshot versus Damian Wayne. She swore even some professors were there watching, too.

Damn, she didn't want to be just a spectator, though.

She wasn't just a classmate to him.

But here...apparently she was...or had to be. Isn't that what she just told him not even five minutes ago, anyways?

"Do you really want to know, princess?" Mr. Hotshot cooed. There were a few snickers from the crowd. Probably from the other jocks.

They were maybe only a few bodies apart now, and she could see Mr. Hotshot's fist clenching, let alone feel the anger that was seething from his body.

Oh, no.

Damian shrugged nonchalantly, his eyebrow quirked. "Why not?"

Oh, hell.

The jock struck, his fist plummeting through the air.

"What?" He sneered as some "oooohs" were emitted from the crowd.

Her hands were sweating. Why were her hands sweating? She knew this guy was no match for Damian and yet...

"I think you missed," Damian said on a deadpan. There was some more laughter from the crowd.

Of course he dodged it. If only they knew exactly what the boy in front of them was capable of.

Mr. Hotshot sighed forcefully, his upper lip quivering. "Why you little —"

He lunged at Damian. If she hadn't known him she would have thought the delicate frame of his was no match for the beefy, bulky jock. Of course Damian was muscular in his own way, but not like this guy -- this guy looked like a horse. She almost snickered at the thought, but then after another miss from the jock she saw Damian's fist clench and -- this wasn't going to be good.

"Stop!"

Before a single thought flashed in her mind, she found herself in between Damian and the jock with a stern stare and a heavy breath.

"Rae, don't," Damian grunted under his breath. His nostril flared ever so slightly and she could tell that while seconds ago he was just mildly irritated, now he was fuming. Of course that change in his expression was so minute that only she would probably notice it, but there was also surprise scribbled in his eyes and as she glanced over at the jock, she was damn sure he noticed it, too.

God, the response was so natural to her, like an instinct. Now she got herself riddled in this goddamn mess which was probably why Damian turned from playful to serious in the fraction of a second. She looked around her at the appalled and excited faces surrounding them, just a sea of anonymous amused spectators, and she felt so...exposed. Why? She was used to this.

"Oh ho ho, what do we have here?" The jock's voice turned low and gruff as he sauntered towards them. His eyes were no longer focused on Damian but rather glued onto...her. What?

"What a precious little girl protecting her precious little princess."

She felt Damian stiffen beside her. He was growing angrier by the second, she didn't even have to look at him to know.

By this point the jock was a mere foot away from her, towering over her with a lopsided smile. The small thought of how Damian's lopsided smile was far far far more charming washed over her. In this guy's defense, there was no warmness in his smile, more like contempt, or eagerness...slyness, anger, even. His eyes darkened as he leaned in...his face was so close. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"Hmm," he hummed. "You smell good." He licked at his lips. "Lavender, is it?"

He breathed in so very close to her ear and for some reason she couldn't move. Her body was so tense. She felt so stiff. Goddamnit, she was submitted into more intense situations than this, and yet...

"You stay the fuck away from her."

Her emphatic shields were up, she knew it. After all, she couldn't last an hour feeling everyone's crushes and teenage-hormone-inflicted emotions in Gotham Academy. Her shields were up, but yet she felt Damian's anger seething, biting into her shields, so powerful it was almost...painful.

"And if I don't?" This time she felt one of the jock's strong, rough hands push some hair, tucking it behind her ear. That's what Damian would do...

A smirk worked its way across his face. "Hey, gorgeous, what do you say, would you like to go to prom with me?"

...What? Prom?

Oh, prom.

She can't believe she forgot. Prom! The spectacle of the senior class. Where girls would gush over their prom dates, hoping to be asked in a romantic way. Although, she wouldn't be surprised if half of the senior class was trying to gather the courage to ask Damian. Damian...she didn't want to go to prom with this jerk in front of her.

By the second she just felt Damian's anger grow hotter and hotter. Her mouth opened slightly, but for the life of her, she couldn't get words out. Part of her was so stunned that he would even dare to make an offer, even though she was sure it was only to get under Damian's skin, but what really shocked her was that...it was working. Damian was angry. It was making him the sort of angry he felt when Batman would deny him a mission. How...Why...? What about asking her to prom would make him so...furious?

Beside her, she felt Damian shift, and not before long his strapping frame was right next to her and his hand was on the jock and suddenly, with a forceful shove, he propelled the jock back a few feet. He was really, really, really angry. Damian was scary when he was this angry.

As the jock sputtered to a stop, the surprise in his face slowly faded as it was replaced with a furrowed brow and a quivering lip.

"I said stay the fuck away from her," Damian repeated, his voice strained as if he was biting back a growl. This time, it was his turn to saunter towards the jock. He seized a hefty chunk of his Gotham Academy varsity jacket and pulled him in. "Don't touch her ever again." In one swift movement, he threw the jock to the floor. "And just so you know," he added sharply, "she's going to prom with me."

What?

There were many gasps from the crowd and probably many more students with broken dreams of going to prom with the dreamy son of Bruce Wayne.

Prom? With him? What the heck? He didn't ever mention this to her!

"Okay, okay, the spectacle is over!" A professor shouted as he was shoving his way past the sea of students, "get back to class!"

With many grunts and sighs, the crowd started fizzling out.

"Shoo, shoo, come on now, you're all late for class."

He turned to them as he said in a stiff voice. "Wyatt (so that was the jock's name!), please make your way to the principal's office. Damian, come with me."

She opened her mouth to say something, but in the time it took her to do so, Damian turned away from her without saying a word, heck, not even giving her a glance, like "screw this guy". Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. As she watched him slip away, she squeezed out a sigh through gritted teeth.

What did she do wrong?

She groaned, turning away. As scared as she was to do so she needed to find out. It was going to eat her alive if she didn't.

"Azar," she grunted, heading towards her calculus class. How could she concentrate with Damian being furious at her -- ugh -- she had to admit it, she absolutely knew she couldn't. She even had an exam, let alone the fact that she wasn't able to finish her homework.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Waiting for him to get out detention (because, he was most certainly going to have detention) was going to be awful.

She sighed.

Could her day get any worse?

—

She timed it perfectly. Almost perfectly to the point that she knocked into him as he strode out the principal's door. Any more perfect and they would have collided head first.

"Damian," she gasped in a surprise. Why was she surprised? She expected to meet him here, she knew she would. But her heart -- it was beating so fast.

"Roth," he acknowledged. To her dismay, he was looking straight ahead like before and didn't even glance her way.

Her eyebrows furrowed. Roth? She felt...offended almost. He hadn't called her that in a long time...basically since they met. Shaking it off, she stated sternly, "we need to talk."

To be honest, she didn't expect him to agree -- he wasn't entirely the type of person to take the phrase 'we need to talk' lightly. He wasn't exactly the best at taking confrontations. To her surprise, Damian didn't even flinch but granted he didn't leave, either, so she took that as a reluctant yes.

Good. Even though she didn't even know what in Azar's name she was going to say to him.

She led him to the rooftop in what seemed to be the most excruciating five minutes of her life (Why was Gotham Academy so large?). He said no word, he didn't even look at her once. He made absolutely no sound, it didn't even sound like he breathed. She even had to check if he was still with her, making sure he didn't slip away from her in the silence. In retrospect, those five minutes would have been the perfect time for her to figure out what the hell she was going to say to him, but in reality she couldn't concentrate because her heart was pounding so adamantly against her ears.

When they finally reached the roof, she shut door behind her as the cold air began to bite at her cheeks. It was winter now, and there was a slight blanket of snow covering the city. She cursed silently as she realized she wasn't entirely prepared for their venture out into the cold as her scarf and coat were tucked away in her locker, but honestly there were more important things she had to attend to first.

"We're alone...there's no one here."

She sighed heavily, turning to Damian. He was still looking ahead but seemingly watching the skyline now. His expression turned slightly softer, anyways.

"What, Damian?"

His jaw tensed.

"Damian."

Still nothing.

"What?"

"Nothing is wrong," he finally muttered.

"You called me Roth, stop the bull crap."

A soft siren sang beneath them amidst the subtle breeze, and Raven couldn't help but notice how...beautiful he looked in this very moment. His eyes looked so incredible when the light hit them like that and —

He finally turned to her, a little too quickly might she add. While he seemed tense just moments before, his overall aura was rather stoic, but now...now, it was undoubtedly not stoic. She hated to admit it, but she'd rather it have stayed apathetic, as excruciating as it was. As she looked at him, she sensed anger pouring from his eyes. Yes, his eyes were gorgeous, but anger made them piercing to the point it was almost frightening.

His nostrils flared. Oh, no.

"You're so stupid," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Is this what you wanted? Loads of attention? Well congratulations, because you undeniably just landed us on the front page of Gotham Academy newspaper."

What? What? She was flabbergasted. Just moments before he was so silent, and now he just exploded on her? Then again, it wasn't unlike Damian to do so, but still...he never really did so with her.

She stilled.

That's right, he never exploded at her. Dick, maybe, Beast Boy, definitely, but with her, his explosions were rather mild, not earth shattering like theirs.

"What? Wait..." she sputtered.

But...he just did so. Did that mean...what...why? She tried to form a reply in her mind, but nothing semblance of a sentence came to her, so she scoffed as her mouth hung open, probably looking as floored as she felt.

"I..."

She could have just let anger win. Anger was a good emotion in times like these.

"You..."

Still nothing.

Anger it was, then.

"You're blaming this on me?" she spat, finally. "If your pride could just disappear...just...for one second maybe you wouldn't have gotten yourself into this fight in the first place!"

God, that felt good.

"You could have said 'sorry' and scurried along your merry way," she continued. Oh, she wasn't going to stop now, not now since he was pointing the finger at her. "But noooooooo that's not how Damian Wayne operates, now is it?"

He flinched.

"Raven, just..." He pinched his nose bridge, shaking his head. "You should have let me handle it, not get yourself involved," he countered.

"I was trying to make sure you didn't land your butt in detention! And this is the thanks I get?" she scoffed, shaking her head. "You are so unbelievable sometimes."

"Tt." He shook his head, rolling his eyes.

Oh, he was rolling his eyes at her?

"What is your problem, Damian?"

"I'll answer that when you tell me why you lied to me."

She stilled, and she felt her heart reach an utter stop. What? What the heck was all this nonsense? First blaming her for the fight, now accusing her of lying to him? She tried to piece everything together but it was too much, it was too puzzling, her mind felt like it was spinning. She was so dizzy. Lying to him? When? How?

"I...don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." He turned to her, giving her a blank stare as if to reiterate his previous point, as if to pry the answer out of her, and it probably would have worked except for the fact that she was honestly floored. What lie could she have told him in the past few minutes? About the fight? She didn't think the fight was her fault. It wasn't her fault whatsoever.

She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Chuckling softly and rolling his eyes again he turned to the skyline. "And you say I'm difficult," he muttered under his breath.

"I'm not trying to be difficult!" she protested. "I've told you before, I'm an empath, not a mind reader. Must I remind you what that means?"

"No, Raven, I know what it means," he snapped with a mocking tone.

God, he was being difficult right now --how could he accuse her of such?

"Okay, then, stop acting as if I know exactly what you're talking about."

He paused, shook his head, then hissed out a sigh. Turning to her, he brought his bottom lip between his teeth, and in a less stressful moment, she would have marveled at how hot it was.

"You don't really care about the Gotham Academy newspaper, do you?"

What? What was he getting at? For Azar's sake she was getting so sick of this emotional roller coaster he was putting her through. First the fight, then lying to him, now the newspaper?

"...What?"

"Being on the front page, dead center, talking about us. You don't really care about it."

"What?"

She couldn't even count how many times she said 'what?' at this point, let alone differentiate when she merely thought it or said it out loud.

"That's absurd," she scoffed, "of course I do. The whole mission —"

"The whole mission thing, I get it," he interjected curtly. "You and I both know that it doesn't actually matter that we're together a lot. In fact, it's actually what would speed this process up exponentially."

"But Bruce..." she whispered.

Damian chuckled again.

"Father isn't stupid. He knows teenagers, and he knows that telling us to not do something would, in fact, encourage us to do it."

He wasn't wrong...especially knowing Damian, that was something he always did. But, even so...

Her eyebrows furrowed. "That's crazy."

"No, it's not," he stated on a deadpan. "He could have just sent me. Or you. Or Beast Boy for all that matters. Why us? Why us together?"

Her eyebrows kept furrowing to the point that she was sure they were touching now. "...Do you expect me to have the answer to that?"

He looked at her with one of his blank stares again, then clicked his tongue.

"Because he knew we couldn't help but become close at the Academy." He paused. "Admit it, Raven. I'm the closest one on the team to you."

Okay, he was right, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Oh, don't be so cocky," she mused instead.

"I'm not," he said, his voice sounding a little tight. "We share a similar past. It's only natural that we've become close."

He kept being right about everything, and it was really starting to piss her off.

"Whatever."

"It was intentional from the start. Deep down I'm sure you knew it, too."

He paused again and shot her a glance that looked almost... hurt.

"So...you lied to me. Why?"

How many times was she going to shake her head in disbelief throughout this conversation? "I don't—"

"There's no Gotham Academy newspaper within Wayne manor, Raven," he scoffed. "You think I didn't notice that you were ignoring me there, too? Being on the cover of the newspaper, that's bull shit. I just told the whole Academy that you were going to prom with me, and you haven't mentioned that once."

Shit, he was right. God, why did he keep being right? Everything was happening so fast, so fast, so many things were happening...she had forgotten all about that. She fisted the hem of her skirt as she looked up at him too sheepishly for her liking.

"I was going to..." she whispered.

But...she didn't, even though she had every opportunity to before when they were arguing about who started the fight, hell, he even mentioned the newspaper, but she couldn't dispute the undeniable fact that she didn't bring it up once since he proudly announced it to the crowd.

She opened her mouth to say something, but a heavy sigh from Damian stopped her immediately.

"You're afraid of me, Raven."

Afraid?

"No, I..."

Wait...wait...she was.

Part of her knew that, but she was in so much denial that she had almost believed she wasn't. She was afraid of him. Well, maybe not of him, but she was afraid of the way he felt about her, afraid of the way she felt about him. Afraid of what could have happened, what couldn't have happened. Afraid of that Saturday when they could have...kissed.

"I..."

"You're a bad liar, do you know that?" he stated, smirking a little. "Your fingers always fidget when you lie. You especially like to twist your hair or play with the hem of your skirt. You purse your lips a little more but your eyebrows become less expressive. You—"

"Okay, okay! I get it!" she spat.

God, why did he keep being right?

Plus, he kept putting her on the spot when he knew she hated it. Why wouldn't he just shut up?

"I guess...spending time at the Academy and at the manor and...just...all this time..."

He was looking with her with curious yet stern eyes and part of her had to keep pushing away the thought that a small strand of his hair was unkempt due to the breeze and how attractive he looked in this moment.

"Remember, I can tell when you're lying."

She clicked her tongue. "Give it a rest, would you?" she huffed.

At this point she wanted to squeeze his throat or cover his mouth with...anything...anything to just make him shut up. But as the seconds ticked away, the more she believed her hypothesis to be true. He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to make her angry. And it was working. He took some pointers from that jock earlier, didn't he? Like that jock, he knew exactly which buttons to press to get on her nerves. Why was he doing this to her? It was all getting too much. The newspaper, prom, the fight, the fact that they could have kissed, his goddamn strand of hair that she wanted to push out of his pretty face. Azar, she just wanted this all to end.

"Fine," she grunted, waving him off. She felt a blush flare across her cheeks, but at this point, she didn't even care to hide it. "Maybe I've...enjoyed this...experience. Maybe I don't want to be exposed because I know that'll mean this mission will come to an end..."

She really hoped that answer was sufficient enough. Taking him to the rooftop was to confront him, but it was only turning out to be him confronting her, and she couldn't take it much longer.

"Sure, me too."

She stilled, her breath catching in her throat.

Him, too?

Wait...did she hear that correctly? Him, too? She was so focused on getting him to shut his mouth that it didn't entirely register in her mind what she just said. She just admitted to him that she liked spending time with him...and he agreed. He felt the same way. About what, though? Enjoying his time here, with her, or not wanting the mission to end. Or both?

"And...?" Damian prodded.

"...And what?"

He let out a soft chuckle but there was no humour in it.

"There's something you're not telling me."

She was really starting to get sick of him expecting to know what he was getting at, and him being right about practically everything, and him just prodding her relentlessly.

"What?"

"Listen, we're both enjoying our time here, that's obvious," he said, his cheeks turning red, but before she could really see it, he quickly turned his head away. "But why would you lie to me and make up an excuse about the newspaper? You keep avoiding my question, Raven. Why were you ignoring me?"

Oh.

Oh, that.

She couldn't even relish in the fact that Damian was blushing before she felt like someone had thrown her into a brick wall. Her mind felt fuzzy but oddly clear. Thoughts were rushing through her head but one loud one stood out amidst the rest. She didn't want to focus on it, but it was screaming at her, screaming at her so loudly...she wanted it to shut up, she wanted him to shut up, she just wanted to hide, she just wanted this to end.

She wasn't going to tell him she liked him. Hell, no.

"There's...nothing more I want to say," she murmured.

But why wouldn't he just give up? She was visibly distraught, she knew Damian could tell, but why did he keep pushing her? What did he want from her?

His voice turned into its agonizing know-it-all tone again. "I can tell when you're lying. Tell me, Raven."

Her mind kept reeling. Why wouldn't he let this go?

"What do you want from me? What more do you want me to say? I just...stop, please."

God, at this point she was practically begging. And she never begged.

"I'm not going to stop until you tell me why you've been ignoring me."

Exhaling sharply, she ran her hands through her hair, "I just...I'm gonna go."

There she was, running away from him. Again, and again, and again. If she could just confess she could end this all, but she was so stubborn and so scared. She wanted him to like her back, why couldn't she just admit that to herself? And if he didn't, it wasn't like the world would crash around her, at least she could tell him, at least she would be brave enough to, instead of running away, like everything else in her life.

But her fear always won.

She turned around to head back to the door but --

He grabbed her wrist and spun her around so forcefully that she knocked into him and had to steady herself by clutching his chest. Part of her wanted to let go so she could run away, but her knees felt so weak, too, she felt like she would turn into a puddle if she let him go.

"No, Raven, you're not running away from me this time."

"Please, just stop," she pleaded, shaking her head.

"Raven..."

"I said I don't want to answer you, okay? Just let it go, just let me go. You can't have the answer for everything. The world doesn't work that way."

At this point, she felt tears welling in her eyes. Why was Damian being so cruel?

He paused, looking away. His jaw clenched, and he slowly turned his eyes up, but when they met hers, she saw something different in his eyes. Something she never saw before except for the small spark that appeared for the fraction of a second on that Saturday. It demanded her to stay put, no matter how much she wanted to run away. How could he do that with just one look?

"You...like me, don't you?"

He tore his eyes away again, but he couldn't hide the fact that his cheeks turned bright red. Not this time.

What?...

What was happening? If she thought she was dizzy before, it wasn't even remotely close to the way she felt now. She was never in a centrifuge, but she was sure that it would feel exactly like this. Her breathing was hard and heavy, like there was a force pushing on her chest, and it was making breathing become exhausting.

What...How...what did he mean by that...

"Of course I like you...you're my friend," she stuttered.

There she was, still running away.

He bit his lip again and -- please, just make it stop.

"No, not like that," he exhaled slowly. "Like more than just a friend."

She was so confused, was he the real empath here? How could he just read her thoughts like that? Was she really that transparent? There were so many thoughts running through her mind, but he didn't let her process any of it.

He sighed and relaxed his grip on her shoulders. She didn't even realize he was holding her. Damn it, her heart, she wanted it to slow down. But it just kept on beating faster and faster.

"I'm sorry for pushing you, Raven, I just..I don't want us to run away from it."

Us?...

What did he mean 'us'?

"What...What do you mean?" she gulped.

Really, what was happening?

"Come here," he whispered softly.

It was so silent that she could have missed it, but she was also staring at his lips and they mimicked his words. They looked so soft...

His grip tightened as he pulled her in. They were so close, so very close...like they were on Saturday. A sharp exhale escaped her throat as her eyes met his. There it was again, that look, that spark. God, he was so beautiful, it hurt.

He tucked her hair behind her ear like then. He smelled like he did then. His warmth enveloped her like then. It was all the same. Her powerful heartbeat, her labored breathing, the way the light hit his eyes, the small scar on his right eyebrow, his hand lingering on her cheek. It was all the same...except...

He leaned forward, slightly brushing her forehead with his..his hair was so soft...he smelled so good. His sigh tickled her lips before he pressed them into hers.

Except...

He just kissed her.

---

Here’s the link for it on ff.net and Wattpad

#Damian Wayne #raven #teen titans #gotham academy #demonbirds #damirae #fanfic #DRGAfanfic #WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK #questions comments concerns #i really like this one okay #this is my little baby #i love these two so much pls make them canon #are you guys excited for the lil comic im drawing because I AM

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iggy-of-fans · 4 years

Text

Of Being a Ladybug 12

Previous Master Post

Okay, NOTES! Please read! Now, I don’t think I ever went into detail about DC timelines or ages… Damien is a year older than Marinette (putting him at 15 years old right now, the average age for the Robin to take over a leadership position), Making Tim 22 and Stephanie 21 (unless anyone can tell me where the hell I can find her actual age in comparison to the others), Jason is 24, Richard is about to turn 30. Cassandra Cain is 24, and Barbara Gordon died in the Joker attack (I have plans).

So in the hands of good we have the (dormant) Turtle, Juleka as the fox (Ruse), Luka as Vipereon, Chloe as Vespa and Kagami as Ryouko. Marlene Seely (my OC) has taken on the Ladybug Mantle and is known as Kaefer.

Loose on the world at large: The Mouse Miraculous (Thief in India), The Horse Miraculous (human trafficker in Germany), The Black Cat (causing destruction at random in Paris), The Butterfly (also in Paris), Monkey Miraculous (in Jump City, causing all weapons but Death Stroke’s to fail), Peacock Miraculous (dormant).

SEND ME ASKS!!!!

The cons of missing jewelry

*!!*

Alya walked into her school for the last week before winter break. Mandatory counselling, restricted internet and computer use, controlled and regulated interaction with friends, bi-weekly community-service… Alya was happy to be preparing for Lycée the following year. Francois-Dupont had agreed to wipe clean their records for a full year of good behaviour, but they had to adhere to a very strict regime put into place by their new principle, a Monsieur Asselah. French-Muslim born, Bilal Asselah came to the school at the beginning of this year and had come down on the student body for their descending grades and lack of emotional control. He enforced counselling and even therapy sessions on all students. He enforced anti-bullying rules. He enforced equality among the students and equal treatment to all. Monsieur Asselah was also very quiet, hard to anger, and polite. Alya liked him, for all that she wasn’t allowed to speak with her old group of friends anymore. She also knew (from counselling) that she was one of the few still having a hard time moving on. Alya was stuck in the past, but hopefully moving to Lycée will help her think of the bigger picture.

“Yeah, Luka really missed her. He hasn’t picked that guitar up since she left. He was gone way longer than he was supposed to but being with Marinette was more important to him…” Alya stopped dead in her tracks. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Juleka walking next to an unfamiliar girl with brown hair. The girl nodded.

“So weird. I didn’t know him before, but seeing how relaxed he was? I bet you they start dating soon!”

“I don’t know… Luka always had a thing for her, but Marinette always… I don’t know…”

Alya was struck. How long had it been since she thought about Marinette? She tried not to, really, because thinking about Marinette meant thinking about Ladybug and the new fox hero (that still gave her a twinge in her chest, that still made her eyes sting with frustration) and Alya didn’t have much time to focus on the things she couldn’t fix. A part of her, a small part, recognized that had Alya simply listened to Marinette, had she trusted her best friend, Alya wouldn’t be in as much trouble now. Marinette hadn’t tried to find Alya to bestow the fox miraculous to. She hadn’t said goodbye. Or tried to send a single letter to her. Alya hadn’t thought much of Marinette in the past year. But it sure hurt to hear Juleka and some random stranger knew where she was and Alya didn’t.

‘Hello Loner… I am Mourning Cloak. You and I, we both lost someone precious. Let’s wreak some havoc and see if they won’t come back…’

“Yes, Mourning Cloak.”

_ - _

Adrien sat forward as he watched the News in Paris. Another random Akuma with no actual direction. Another sighting of Svart Katt, fighting against the Parisian heroes and causing destruction for fun. Adrien frowned. How… How could Plagg let Wilhelm use him like this? How could Wilhelm think this was what he’d wanted? The TV went blank and Adrien almost screamed.

“You shouldn’t be watching those things. You’re away from there now” his aunt Amelie walked further into the room, putting the remote down on a shelf as she walked. Adrien had never told them that he had been Chat Noir, which is how he was acquitted. Only that he had never known anything was amiss. His aunt and cousin did their best to shield him from the masses, from the news, and from the situation in Paris. But they couldn’t hide everything, and Adrien knew that his father had tried to get in contact multiple times since the first sighting of Svart.

“You don’t understand Aunty…”

“No! Enough! Adrien, you need to live in the now! And right now, you are in London, not Paris. Now, get ready, we’re meeting with the Johnson & Johnson agents” and with that she walked out of the room.

Adrien sighed. How had he messed up so badly?

< ( ^ ^ ) >

Batman walked the halls of the Justice Tower with quiet steps and clenched fists. This was his first meeting with them since taking Marinette in. Marinette had a dancing lesson that night.

“Batman, you finally made it!” Flash called from the left.

“… my daughter needed me…” he was usually the last person to volunteer personal information but seeing Diana flinch in her seat was well worth it.

“How is Maria?” Diana asked gently as he took his seat.

He didn’t answer. Instead he turned he gaze to Superman, telling the room to shut up and listen. As Superman went on to give reports about recent problems around the world, caused by the accursed Miraculous Jewelry, Batman sat in his seat, impassive. In his head he kept a constant monologue of “Do not Kill. Do not Attack. Do not Shout. Do not, Do not, Do not…”

When the meeting concluded, Batman made to make a quick exit. He couldn’t be around them. Not right now, when he felt like he might actually attack them, whether verbally or physically.

‘Marinette need you to pick her up from dance. Marinette needs you to help her with her physics homework. Marinette needs help in filling out her University application.’

“Bruce! Please, how is Maria?” Diana had followed his brisk exit.

“Who is Maria?” he asked instead. If he sounded like he normally did when fighting Joker, well…

Diana stepped back. “Maria, my -- ”

“Your Nothing! Her name is Marinette! Marinette Wayne, and she is alive and growing and coming out of her shell, not thanks to anything you did! How… How could you have possibly thought anything you did to her was acceptable?! How would shaving her hair and telling her to basically kill herself help her?!” Bruce couldn’t hold back his fury anymore. He shoved his cowl off his head and glared at her as he stepped into her space. “You had one job, Diana. To protect her. You failed.”

He turned on his heel and slammed the elevator button to get the hell away from this place. He would tell Alfred to take over meetings until it became relevant to him. Otherwise, he was going to avoid this place like the plague.

^ ^ ^ ^

In Arkham, a maniac laugh could be heard through out the halls. Freedom!

TAG LIST IS FULL!!!

@maya-custodios-dionach @dur55 @driftingmoonlitpetals @kill-the-purses @annabellabrookes @a-marlene-s @queenmj10 @loveswifi @elmokingkong @aestheticnpoetic @animalgirl05 @northernbluetongue @lilacandcream @yin-390 @silvergold-swirl @reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo @goblinwhoships @weird-pale-blonde-person @ @moonlightstar64 @krispydefendorpolice @kuroko26 @ladylupa @jardimazul @welcometopradasa @thatrandomfandomgirl @imanerddealwith @sidd-hit-my-butt-ham @loysydark @nataladriana9 @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @sassakitty @enchanted-nerd @maya-custodios-dinoch @a-marlene-s @whomthefyck @myazael @blackrosee3 @dahjokester @lntimancy @vixen-uchiha @juhave @dorkus-minimus @captainartsypants @darknightchan @dagnysdawn

#of being a ladybug #daminette #ml x dc #BAMF Marinette #minor lukanette #Marinette deserves better

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

Always with you.

Because Kon is always looking out for Tim.

----.----

He wakes up slowly, achingly aware of each heavy muscle keeping him anchored to the mattress as he lays on his side, each nerve ending pleading with him to just stay, just relax for a few hours, please stop putting them through so much stress.

Of course, they are ignored. He’s preparing himself from the inevitable onslaught of pain once he gets in a vertical position, when he feels the careful fingers combing through his hair.

He can’t even blink before a heavy hand drops to his waist, keeping him still, because yeah, vigilante reflexes.

-Shh, don’t get up dude. I’m just braiding your hair. Nothing to worry about.

The effect is immediate, body going lax, mind so stupidly fast at ease it probably wasn’t healthy.

-What’re y’ doin’ere? -he mumbles through heavy lips, barely even parting them for the words to escape.

The body behind his back inches closer, and he feels his hair being moved this and that way.

-Heard you had a rough night. Cassie showed me once how to braid her hair, said it was relaxing an’ stuff, so I thought it might help. You seriously need a haircut though.

-Shu’up.

-Go back to sleep, buddy. It’s still late. Or early, whatever.

-Need to… ‘vestigate a case… B’ce’ll be mad…

-No, you need to close your eyes and be nice to yourself. I doubt Batman is expecting a report at five in the morning when you got tossed around by Croc like a ragdoll three hours ago.

He wants to argue some more, but the hands move from the ends on his hair to his scalp in a light massage and he’s out like a light.

He wakes up six hours later, body and mind both thanking him for the extra rest, with groggy eyes and hair a tangled mess.

It’s the best sleep he’s had in months.

---.---

-Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit. Fuck!

Tim smiles, a small line of blood dripping from his parted lips- What would Ma said if she was here and listened to that, huh? Swear jar much?

-She would be cursing right along with me and probably kicking me in the ass to do something -the meta snapped back, hands hovering over his torso where the knife was still deeply buried- Should you put pressure on it? I feel like you need to put pressure on it.

-If I do, I’ll just move the knife around. And that’s gonna hurt like a bitch.

-Fuck. Fuuuck... then, take the knife out first. That sounds like a plan.

-It also sounds like me bleeding out quicker.

-You aren’t being helpful at all! Just… Here, if I could carry you…

-Don’t fucking touch me, you’ll... make it worse with your clumsy hands.

That’s not the reason he can’t stand Kon touching him right now, but he’s in no condition to elaborate either.

-Look who’s cursing now!

-I’m allowed to. I was stabbed.

-I KNOW YOU WERE, NOW TELL ME WHAT TO DO!

-You can just chill and keep me company -Tim sighs, head resting back against the wall he was using for support, hidden in a dark corner on the warehouse- I already sent a distress beacon, B should be here anytime now. No important organs were nicked, so I’ll be good as long as I get stitched up before I bleed out.

-That’s not comforting to hear. You suck at calming people.

-The person in pain should be the one freaking out. It’s going to be fine, trust me.

-I trust you to lead us into battle. I trust you when you say you figured something out, no matter how impossibly weird your explanation is. I trust you when you say ‘go left’ even if all the signs say ‘go right’. But I absolutely don’t trust you when it comes to your own health. You little bitch of a liar.

-...your bedside manners suck. Now get the hell out of here, I hear the Batmobile getting closer.

-You better survive until you get fixed up, Boy Wonder. I’ll give you hell forever if you die.

----.----

He’s sitting on the cold, hard ground when he feels the meta approaching. He doesn’t touch him, but Tim can still feel the worry basically overflowing off his body.

-It’s fine, don’t be so concerned.

-’Fine’ has a lot of new meanings when it comes from you, varying from ‘I want to cry a bit, hug me please’ to ‘I might need someone to watch over me, just in case I do something scarily stupid on purpose’.

-Those are very specific translations, for one short word.

-What can I say, I know how to read my buddy.

-Uh huh. And what does it mean, right now?

-You might be leaning more towards the latter, to be honest.

Tim hums, eyes still on the epitaph, hands carefully arranging the flowers on top. His parent’s names staring back at him, the stone where they were engraved as cold as their eyes had always been when they looked at him.

-Good thing I have you then, clone boy.

The pressure on his shoulder is sudden, but light. Barely even touching at all.

Tim feels it all the same, and for one brief, overwhelming second, he wonders what the fuck is wrong with him.

Quickly pushing the thought from his mind, he stands up again, turning to face his friend and give him his best shot at a smile.

-Walk me home?

---.---

Tears are falling from his eyes, and he furiously scrubs them off with one arm, the other still shoving shirts and pants into the open suitcase.

He’s leaving the manor, but he sure as fuck isn’t leaving his things behind. God knows what the little devil might do. He already took such a perverse pleasure in stealing everything Tim held precious, so why the hell not fuck his belongings up too?

He probably can’t fit everything into the suitcase, but even a portion of it would be enough. Even if Damian burned the rest, or if Alfred threw it out, or if Dick gave it to charity… he would at least keep a little for himself, a bit of the boy he was while living under this roof.

He sees Kon standing on the side, from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t stop his motions. He needs to be quick about this, while Batman and his new Robin are still on patrol. Before Dick comes back and tries to stop him or… or worse. Worse like locking him up.

-Slow down -the calm, deep voice interjets from the side, like he could hear his thoughts- They just left, you still got time. You are going to hurt yourself like this.

-I might be a sad excuse from a vigilante -he snaps back, ignoring his friend’s advice, now trying to shove a shirt he stole from B-Bruce once. He’s taking this one even if he has to leave one of his own-, but even I won’t get injured by packing some shit.

-You aren’t that, Tim.

-Dick seems to differ, and I feel inclined to believe one of my former teachers and literal Batman over someone who loves me too much to hurt my frail, stupid feelings. No offense.

-None taken. I’m going to break Grayson’s face the first chance I have, though.

-If you can pull that off, I’ll buy you a milkshake.

-I’m holding you up to that, bud. Now, slow. down. You might not get hurt physically, but your mind is certainly doing you no favors.

-I need to leave, I need to move.

-You need to punch someone, preferably your brothers, and then call Cassie, or Cass, or someone who’s not a fucking backstabber and ask them to come and punch them too in your name.

-That’s what you said you were gonna do, though.

-Yeah, if I get the chance. But I can’t right now, you know. Also, I’m coming with you, so… that’s gonna take a while to get around to.

Tim keeps pushing stuff, but his shoulders are slightly less hunched, more relaxed. He sees Kon moving around a bit, looking at posters still hanging on the walls, framed pictures by the bedside table he couldn’t fit and weren’t important enough to make space for, everything that once made this space Tim’s, like he’s trying to commit it to memory. Like he might never see this again.

Considering what Tim was planning to do, that might as well be the case.

He doesn’t really care anymore.

-Did you tell him about me? -finally breaks the silence his friend, pacing apparently over, as he stands by Tim’s side, eyeing the Superboy shirt Tim was keeping close so it could be the thing at the top of the suitcase once he was done packing the rest. His voice is devoid of any judgement, and Tim’s heart clenches a bit. This night couldn't get more emotional if it tried.

He shakes his head. Timothy Jackson Drake was done with feelings.

Carefully avoiding his friend’s knowing stare, he scoffs- Of course not. I might be, as Dick kindly put it, delusional, but I’m not stupid. He would have just drugged me and dumped me into the deepest cell he could find at Arkham that wasn’t already occupied. I know I bitch about how incredibly easy it’s to break out of there, but that only applies to villains with henchmen on their payroll that can provide the manpower to devise a getaway.

Seeing as the case looked ready to burst, he added the last shirt and closed it, fighting against the zipper for a good minute and a half.

-Okay, I’m done. Let’s get out of here. I have a parental figure to find and drag back, kicking and screaming if I need to. You coming?

-Always. Who else would talk you out of stupid shit, Rob? I’m always on your side, you know that.

----.----

When Tim sees him again, flying parallel to his motorcycle in Paris of all fucking places, he wants nothing more than to punch him.

Kon tries to talk to him about what he’s doing, what happened to Bruce, why the fuck was he doing this to himself. Tim just wishes, more than ever, that he had more control of his mind, so he could just wave Conner’s hallucination away.

But, well, when does he ever get what he wants?

-Tim, please, just hear me out! I’m back, I…

-Yes, I can see it, you jackass -he bites back, making his way through the sewers-. You said you were coming with me, but then fucking disappeared until now. I got fucking Ra’s Al Ghul on my tail, you know? I could have used what little comfort you could provide.

-First of all, rude. Second, dude, I couldn't come. I was busy… coming back. Which brings me back to my earlier point. Tim. Buddy. Tim, I came back. This is me. Really me. Please, just… just touch me, okay? So you can be sure this is real. Rob, c’mon…

But Tim just shakes his head, and avoids both his hands and every mention of this topic, only answering back when Kon moves from that to talking about Clark and Lex, right and wrong.

Maybe his head is trying to remind him of Bruce’s teachings, about the dangers of falling into Ra’s web, like the silly fly that heard the spider’s honey-dripping words and fell from them.

Maybe everyone’s right and he just lost it. Whatever. He know he’s right about B. His mental health can take a back seat and enjoy the storm Tim is going to break loose, and he’ll get on it in a sec.

But he can’t just listen to Kon, can’t believe him, because it would destroy him if his hopes get once again destroyed.

He’s already stretched thin, running after a man he’s not 100% sure is even alive. He can’t spare any hope of the same belief to Kon.

When he leaves the city, Conner doesn’t follow. He looks sad as Tim walks away, but he doesn’t disappear on thin air like he used to. Instead, he flies away until Tim can no longer see him in the distance.

That gives him pause, for a second, because… that was new. Maybe… maybe Kon had actually… maybe he was...

But he steels his heart and keeps going, because he can’t chase two ghost at the same time.

And if Kon was truly back, the Tim welcoming him back couldn't be the one with two devils and no angel on his shoulders.

----.----

He’s back in his city, feeling more like himself than ever, even with the looming threat of Ra’s revenge hanging over his head.

He’s lighter, more at peace with himself, now full of evidence of Bruce’s situation that will grant him Justice League’s backup. Ready to throw it at Dick’s face, hopefully poking his eye with the flashdrive or harming his stupidly perfect face with a papercut.

He’s in a better place, finally. Tired, mourning the loss of two ninjas that gave their lives for his mission, and one organ less than what he had when he went away so many months ago, but… Mentally speaking, he hasn’t feel like this since before his mother died.

Enough that, when Kon landed in front of him, some quip about leather suits on his tongue, Tim felt strong enough to risk another heartbreak and jumped forward, arms circling around his best friend’s middle, hoping against hope he wouldn't just go through him like all the times in the past when he tried to hug Conner’s hallucination.

He hits a solid, steel-like chest, and his heart stops.

-Kon?

The meta’s arms wriggle out of his hold, and he proceeds to fold them around his tinier frame, plastering Tim to his front with a shaky breath.

Tim can’t breath. He wonders if he’s dead, too, but quickly discards the idea, because death couldn’t possibly be so warm.

-I told you, I’m back for good -his friend mumbles, arms clenching around Tim, voice breaking and heavy with emotion- Not that I ever truly left, but…

-W--what? -he’s choking up on his tears and confusion, wanting to get away from the hug so he could look at Kon’s eyes and discern the truth, but also knowing that the mere idea of letting go would make him cry even harder- Y-you died, what do you mean you never…

He can’t keep talking, because he feels like he would drive himself into a panic attack if he does, but thankfully, words aren’t really a necessity with his Superboy.

-I told you, Boy wonder, that I’ll always be by your side. And I was. Right up until I got back to life and then I had to track you down to tell you about it, not that your stubborn ass believed me…

Moments flash through Tim’s mind, quick and merciless. All the times he laid in bed, aching and mourning, and feeling gentle fingers sooth the pain away, both in his body and his heart. Sitting on top of buildings and contemplating how easy ending it all would be, just for Kon to appear out of nowhere, yelling at him ‘If you’re going through hell, keep going until you fucking leave it, idiot!’. Visiting his parents’ graves, getting verbally attacked by Damian, getting discarded by Dick, and then a comforting voice in his ear, encouraging him forward, begging for him to not give up yet.

-No. No, those… those were hallucinations. Proof that I’m crazy. Proof that...

-The only thing me being with you after death proved, was that you have no way of getting rid of me. And you aren’t crazy, Tim. Which is a testament to your resilience, because with all the shit you have to put up with, anyone would be. But you aren’t. I was a kickass ghost, your own personal supernatural buddy slash motivational coach, not a product of your tired mind. Now, the pink haired fairy sitting by your table that one time? That was because of sleep deprivation. You need to sleep more, my dude. And now, I’m alive, I’m back, and I’m here for you, like always.

Tim can’t even attempt to control the tears. Who knew a healing heart would ache so much? He’s crying louder now that he's unbelievably happy than when he was utterly destroyed. His heart feels like it’s growing up inside his body physically now, doubling in size and stronger than ever.

He feels like Ra’s could put his plan in motion right this second and he wouldn't give a shit. No revenge he could spring on Tim would dampen his happiness at the warmth of Kon hugging him back.

-Now, this reunion is very touching, and it was fucking time you got it into your thick head that I’m back for good, but -Tim scrunches his nose, head leaving Conner’s shoulder so he could look up at his face in confusion. The meta gave him a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring, but came out as vicious- I have a to do list, and punching Dick Grayson has the honor of being number one. Care to point me in the right direction?

#Tim Drake #kon el kent #Conner kent #my writting #young justice #teen titans #batfamily #Tim and Kon are best friends and not even death can do them apart #rip to marriage but friendship is different #Tim is not crazy #Hurt comfort #I wrote this in one sitting i feel like i was possesed #No edit people #tw: depression

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