#so cass gets the joy of a kid without having to deal with the bad part that's usually involved

[elizabethemerald]

Cass jumped, swung and dove across the Gotham skyline. Flying across the city helped clear her head and allowed her to think. She was never the best with emotions and Phantom's request had certainly stirred up a lot.

She wasn't wholly surprised that David Cain had stolen her genetic material, or that he had sold it. Honestly that was one of the least harmful and violating things he had done to her when he had "raised" her.

Cass had given the DNA sample without complaint and without hesitation. She was a hero, not a weapon and heroes saved lives. She would and had given far more than just a DNA sample to save a life. It was an especially easy decision because Phantom was a hero as well and so was Stray. Bruce trusted Phantom, or at least trusted him as much as he trusted any member of the JL and Damian spoke surprisingly well of Stray's work with the Teen Titans.

However there were other things to consider with the fact that Stray shared her DNA. The young hero was her daughter. Even the thought pulled at her heart.

After the cruelty of her childhood at the hands of David Cain, Cassandra didn't think she would ever want to have children. She wasn't even entirely certain she could actually carry a baby to term. But now there was a child out there. Her child.

Cassandra of course knew all about clones. From her time with the League of Assassins, to meeting Kon-El. She knew not everyone treated their clones the same. Damian's were always set on killing him. Superman had given his the cold shoulder. But she also knew from that Stray was a real human person, one who just didn't arrive in the usual way. So that meant she was her daughter.

As she flew and glided through the air she reflected on her own childhood. The years of separation have given her the insight on exactly how cruel and inhumane her father had treated her. He didn't even treat her like a person. She was a weapon, a tool. And if what she knew about clones and what she had heard about Stray was true than her daughter had an unfortunately similar childhood.

While she had never wanted a kid of her own, or expected to have one, she knew she didn't want any theoretical child she could have to experience what she did. To never know that touch could be kind, that weapons could save lives, to never be loved. She wanted her daughter to be loved.

Cass landed elegantly on the very edge of a rooftop with a soft breath. If she had landed one inch further she would have fallen to the pavement below, one inch closer and she would have badly broken an ankle from the impact.

She knew that Phantom loved his clone. He cared for her, protected her and loved her. The wrath he had unleashed when Trigon had captured the Titans showed his devotion to Stray well enough. But if there was one thing that she had learned from joining the Wayne family was that a person could always be loved by more people. She had thought that surely at some point she would reach a point where she couldn't be loved or love any more, yet it kept coming.

She wanted to meet her Daughter. She wanted to have a relationship with her, and if Stray allowed it, she wanted to love her as well.

.

Phantom had been more than surprised by Batman's request. He had been ecstatic that Cassandra Cain had been willing to share her DNA, especially when he knew (from personal experience) how sensitive more people were to their genetic material being taken without their consent. Cain could have easily left Ellie to die but she didn't.

But it seems that wasn't the end of it! Ms. Cain wanted to meet Ellie and possibly get to know her daughter. That would be fantastic. He would go with them to make sure the Ellie wasn't hurt (and didn't put her foot to far down her own throat) but maybe someone else in Ellie's life may be just what the girl needs. He just hoped Ms. Cain was understanding about the change that had come over Ellie.

They had agreed to meet at a diner as civilians. They didn't want to draw undo attention to Ms. Cain so Danny had hesitantly revealed his identity to Batman so he could inform Ms. Cain not to be surprised. He was sitting at a table waiting for their guest to arrive when he heard the bell over the door clang.

Danny's jaw dropped as Cassandra Cain walked into the restaurant. He was certain if he had been drinking water at the time it would have dribbled down his chin. She was beautiful, stunning. She moved with the elegance and grace of a dancer, and if he remembered the small folio Batman had on the only girl adopted by Bruce Wayne correctly, she was the prima ballerina for the Gotham Ballet.

He belatedly remembered the manners Jazz and Pandora had spent months and years drilling into his head and rose as she approached. He may have accidentally phased through the table to keep from knocking it over, but hopefully Ms. Cain wouldn't notice. He gave her a short bow.

"It is wonderful to meet you Ms. Cain."

She gave him a small smile then signed to him in reply.

"Please call me C-A-S-S." Danny felt himself become entranced by her hands as she finger spelled her own name. Batman had warned him that Cass primarily used sign language, so he and Ellie had both brushed up on their ASL.

"Of course, Ms. Cass. Would you like to take a seat?" Danny offered and carefully pulled her seat out for her. She gave him a breathtaking smile and sat.

"Where is D-A-N-I-E-L-L-E? I was hoping to meet her." Cass signed once Danny returned to his own seat.

"Oh Ellie is-"

"RIGHT HERE!" Ellie popped up excitedly, all three foot nothing of her currently five year old body, jumping up next to Danny, almost scaring what little is left of his life out of him. He grabbed at his hammering heart that was almost beating at the level of a full human.

"Ancients, Ellie! You almost scared me all the way to death!" Danny tried to sound stern, but he could never really stay mad at her. He looked up to introduce Ellie and Cass only to pause seeing the confusion and concern clear on her face. Oh right, Stray was known to be a teenager, even if that wasn't her actual age.

"Oh, Cass this is Ellie, you may know her as the hero Stray." Danny said and waited for her to nod, even if she still had the same expression on her face. "In order to fully integrate your DNA and permanently stop her destabilizing we needed to revert her to her actual age. Physically, mentally, emotionally, she is now all of five years old."

Danny smiled and ruffled Ellie's hair making her preen like a cat. He and Frostbite hoped that this would be the end of Ellie's difficulties caused by Vlad's poor understanding of biology. He also hoped this would help her address some of the trauma she has from being cloned.

Cass looked stunned for a moment before giving Ellie a smile. Danny swore he could get lost in her eyes when she smiled like that.

"If you would like, I would love to be a part of your life, especially as you now get to grow up properly." Cass signed to Ellie.

Ellie gave her, her own bright smile.

"Danny already agreed that since I'm so little he's going to be my daddy. Are you going to be my new mommy?" Ellie asked, her eyes wide and pleading.

Danny choked and sputtered. He hadn't expected Ellie to just come out and ask that. He honestly couldn't tell if that was her being childish or if she was just trying to cause mischief.

"I'd like that. My mommy and daddy weren't very nice to me, so I want you to grow up loved, just like a little princess like you deserves." Cass signed, her smile growing warmer and she looked touched that Ellie would ask.

"Oh great. Then are you and daddy going to get married?" Now Danny knew she was causing mischief. He blushed all the way up to his pointed ears and he could see a dusting of red coloring Cass's cheeks. She looked even more gorgeous with that slight blush.

"Well, we'll have to see." Cass shot him a look and a smile and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah, El, we'll have to see."

"You need what?"

"I know it's a lot to ask," cut in Danny before Batman could go from confused to angry, "Just let me explain. I swear it's for a good reason."

Batman eyed his teammate skeptically. King Phantom was one of the League's newest and youngest members. Despite his unorthodox introduction to the team, he and his sister, Stray, had proven to be valuable additions to the Justice League and to the Teen Titans respectively. He was tall and imposing, despite his relatively slender frame. His visage was made the more menacing by the Crown of Fire that hovered above his head in a tiny version of the Aurora Borealis instead of his predecessor's green flames, the royal armor over his jumpsuit, and the fur-trimmed coat made of a rippling window into space.

"Ok, so you know how Bruce Wayne adopted Cassandra Cain, but she's David Cain's biological daughter, right?"

"..."

"...right! So, at some point, David sold human eggs on the black market," he continued, "you have no idea how hard it was to get the information on Vlad's supplier, but we did figure out that he bought the eggs from Cain for his experiments and then completely messed up the cloning process."

"How?"

"We have no idea! But my clone, my sister, has my ghost DNA, but part of mine and someone else's human DNA."

"What makes you think it's Cassandra's?"

He pulled out his phone, a two-year-old model with a cracked screen, and showed him the face of his sixteen-year-old sister in her human form next to a picture of Bruce's own eighteen-year-old daughter from a tabloid.

"She looks a lot like me," he admitted, "but she also looks a lot like Cassandra Cain, so we think Vlad got a sample mixed up or forgot to take out a nucleus or something and made-."

"A daughter instead of a clone."

It was a good thing Phantom wasn't particularly good at reading body language, or his tightening fist might've alerted him that something was wrong.

"I mean... sort of? It's different with clones. She's technically my daughter but I turned nineteen, like, a month ago, so I don't thi- I'm getting off track! The point is, Dani's destabilizing again and I need a clean DNA sample to help her. I tried to get into Wayne manor, but the place is warded to hell and back. You know Bruce Wayne, right? Can you help me talk with Cassandra?"

Batman sighed and turned his head to Phantom's right.

"Orphan."

"Motherfu-! How long has she been standing there!?"

She didn't respond to his yelp/question and instead turned to Batman.

"Take a tube to Gotham and ask Cassandra Wayne for a DNA sample."

Orphan nodded and walked off to the tubes.

"... Is it just me or was she a little quieter than usual?"

Bruce sighed, not looking forward to whatever his week was about to become.

[necrotic-nephilim]

For the ask game

How do you think the batclan and the league of assasins would react to a consensual rastim au where because of this tim becomes the heir therefore the next demon's head

for the ask game!

heir of Ra's!Tim my BELOVED. i don't care how realistic it is it's real in my heart. i love when they're consensually fucked up together.

i think it's fun if it's sort of a slow descent, for Tim. like he goes into this completely confident he's going to backstab Ra's and come out with clean hands, but he's falling deeper and deeper. Ra's is a far more complex man than everyone has told him, and the longer Tim is entrenched in the League, the more he's drinking the kool-aid. it doesn't help he's already in a grief spiral full of self-isolation and Ra's is showing him all kinds of attention. Tim can't say when it went from "i'm going to stop him in the back" to "huh Ra's' bedroom has more of my stuff than his" bc it was so slow and gradual. maybe the search for Bruce takes longer, maybe Tim finds Bruce but sticks with Ra's for a totally rational reason with a plan he definitely plans to follow through on, eventually. but he gets closer and closer to Ra's and his lack of identity without Robin makes it easy for him to latch onto all the ideas of grandeur Ra's gives him about building a better world. Tim isn't *completely* sold, but he's able to meet Ra's in the middle for most of it

on the side of the League, i think there are a lot of divided opinions. Tim is a hit with younger League members like Prudence, but the more senior members who've been with Ra's for decades are a tad incensed at getting so quickly outranked by a teenager who doesn't even believe in murder. a lot of what Tim believes goes against the very nature of the League but. at its core, the League is loyal to Ra's. any of them would die for him or his cause and they have wholehearted faith in his judgment. because he has a point, the kid is smart, a brilliant strategist, and with some more work, won't be too half-bad in a fight. when Ra's names Tim as his heir, everyone knows it's a very distant future thing (Ra's still has a few more centuries in him and he makes sure they know it) so there's still time to work out the kinks in Tim Drake. Ra's has gone so far as to share the Lazarus Pit with Tim, so *clearly* this isn't some ploy and Ra's is dedicated to him. there's pushback, and i do think there would be some schisms in the League, smaller groups fracturing off and attempting a few coups of the League. even if Tim goes over relatively smoothly, there will be some fights that break out. and Ra's leaves it to Tim to handle, proving a point. making it clear Tim is an equal leader to the League and is more than capable of handling conflict with brutal efficiency. that wins over the last bits of support for Tim, some through genuine respect, some through fear. either way, Ra's is quite proud his choice of partner and heir has proven himself.

the Batfamily on the other hand is a complete shitshow. i think the most positive reaction would be Jason, not necessarily because he approves, but because i think he'd find the ironic joy in watching Tim finally get out from Bruce's thumb and cause absolute chaos. in a way, Bruce really has no place to talk with his history with Talia, so it's not like Tim's completely ex-communicated. they're all constantly trying to get Tim back, trying to convince him how bad of an idea this is and how terrible of a person Ra's is. i think Tim would keep close to the Batfam, partly because he *does* still care about them. Dick, Helena, Cass, Bruce, are all still some kind of family, for Tim. but there would be a clear rift. obviously it'd be the worst for Cass, who has the strongest opinions on morals and was so close to Tim and has to deal with feeling deeply betrayed. i'd have a lot of long conversations between them, where Tim talks about how he's trying his best not to compromise his morals and he's really doing this for the greater good he believes in, while Cass tries to understand his point of view and cope with the betrayal. Steph would also feel pretty betrayed, even when they break up there's a deep love between Tim and Steph and this change for Tim feels out of nowhere. they're all constantly reaching out to Tim, sometimes for serious conversation but sometimes just inviting him to hang out, hoping to get through to him slowly. they still care about each other, but the trust is what's gone. especially from Damian, who never trusted or liked Tim in the first place and would be the most furious he's replaced as an heir by Tim of all people. it's messy, but it's complicated.

for the rest of Tim's social circle, the Titans and whatnot, it's a similar reaction. the more distant of Tim's hero friends have no issue cutting him out, but people like Cassie and Bart and Kon would try to talk to Tim about it because it feels so uncharacteristic of him. they've known Tim a while, sometimes in more personal ways than the Batfam, so this switch up is sudden. i think he'd feel the most guilty about hurting them, just because they're genuinely his oldest friends in the superhero world. but he sticks to his guns and makes it clear he's happy with Ra's, and he's doing this whole League thing, like it or not. they'd still come to Tim's aide if Tim needed it, and god help anyone who hurt Tim's friends bc he'll raise hell for them, but emotionally they're distant from him. it's hard for someone like Kon to reconcile a person willingly working with Ra's given Kon's own parentage. there's still love, but it's messy and complicated. i do think slowly though, Tim would try to get them on his side. it starts with innocuous side comments made about the state of the Justice League/Titans, him not holding them back from going too far in a fight the way he usually would, as sensible team leader. it'd take a slow, long while, but i do think Tim could slowly get at least a couple Titans to be his allies, even if they're not full League members.

all in all, Tim rlly does get to have his cake and eat it too. sure, trust is lost and people aren't as close as they used to be, but Tim loses very few people he genuinely cares about. either they love him too much to abandon him, or he slowly talks them into agreeing with his new moral code. because he's still anti-murder at the end of the day, and it's clear with him at the helm, the League is slightly shifting. even Ra's seems more agreeable these days, far more open to working with heroes without instantly stabbing them in the back like he usually would. Tim can't change who Ra's is and he honestly doesn't want to, but that's the fun of it. the way they're always so opposed and arguing half the time, yet still managing to make it work because they love the chase.

[sonic-spirit]

Working as a horseback riding instructor, I walk a lot at my job. Enough that I pretty reliably consider my hard days to be 11 mile days. "Man, this day kicked my ass! How far did I walk? 11 miles? Oh." or, "Man, today was rough! And I only walked 5 miles!" Today was a 12 mile day. Like, mostly it wasn't bad, it was just hard. But still. Fuck!

Shockingly for me, I was actually on time for once, but we were pretty low on food this morning, so while I ate, I didn't get nearly enough. This will play into things later. But yeah, I was on time, got things ready for the morning round of lessons, and tried to plan my day. I had an hour gap in the schedule that I planned to use to eat and switch over horses before the round of afternoon classes, and felt pretty ready to begin.

The first two lessons went great, Sizzle was her usual stellar self, and one of the students I'd even taught before when I covered Sunday a few weeks ago! He's an awesome, smart as hell kid who asks great questions and tries his heart out! I'd forgotten the kiddy stirrups at first, and had to literally run to the tack room to get them, but that's okay. The other was a kid who wanted to eventually learn to jump, though she was a bit leery of trotting in the end of the lesson (I was a bit surprised to hear a kid who'd just declined to trot tell me she wanted to jump!)

So everything went smoothly, and the morning classes were in the bag. Addy was floating around tooling around on Maggie and stuff, but whatever, they're doing me a favor giving me more hours when I'm desperate for money, I ain't gonna winge.

At about 12:20 I hopped in the car to go nab lunch. When I had a lesson coming up at 1pm, and needed to prepare 4 horses for the next volley of classes because I had a 2 person English and a 2 person Western in my 2pm and 3pm slots. And the place I went was 10 minutes away. Yeah, I got back at 1 pm on the dot. FUCKIN' WHOOPS!

So I blow in, saddle Ollie, who Addy had said the 1pm regular rode, and got the rider on as fast as I literally could. Full thing in 5-10 minutes. Yay, but also, fuck. Except once I got the kid in the saddle I realized I'd forgotten the GODS DAMNED KIDDIE STIRRUPS. So I leave him in the saddle and RUN to the tack room. Now I was running about 15 minutes behind. And, of course, Ollie was being his usual butt-self. Like, he's a good horse, and he's a butt. And the kid, while doing his best, did not have the seat or skill yet to deal with Ollie's butt-ness.

The theme for the day also quickly became "None of these kids can post yet," for all the Western lessons, so I had A Lot of kids stand their trot so they could get the experience and start building their strength without hurting my horses' backs.

The English lesson kids at 2pm were, of course, early. So I boot 1pm kid off Ollie as close to Correct End Time as I can, drag his butt over to the tack room to switch out his saddle to an English saddle, drag him back to tie him next to the arena, assign my riders to their horses, run and grab Joy, give her the shittiest brush down in the history of EVER, and start frantically trying to piece together a second set of English tack for her. Because, of course, we have three other English saddles, an intact girth, and a horrifically mouse-mangled girth, BUT none of them had stirrup leathers or irons. FUCK.

Both spare girths were long as hell, and I knew from experience another day that they DID NOT fit Ollie, but Joy's wider, so I had 5 doubts, but some hope. I put the fleecy dressage blanket on her, because it was the only one left in the tack room, and then this mostly complete English saddle on her, trying desperately to try and make it less obvious that I had a jumping saddle over a dressage blanket. I then attach the intact girth, and lo and behold, this might just be good enough to work! I start casting around desperately for a set of stirrups, and grab the set that had been wrapped around Cass' saddle horn as impromptu kiddie stirrups! Oh holy chaos, it was even a complete set! The leathers looked absurdly short to me, but I slotted them in place, and decided to give it a try.

Now all I needed was a bridle. Last I checked, we'd only had one English bridle. So I grabbed Joy's Western bridle and dragged her over to the arena. I checked the office in one more last-ditch effort to locate a snaffle bridle, but no dice. Well, okay, then. Leverage bit for an English rider it would be.

I tell Joy's rider the deal, let her know Joy has a leverage bit in her mouth so she'll have to be extra careful with her hands, and, finally, bring my students and their horses into the arena. Joy looks surprisingly natural in English tack. And it's only...2:30. Fuck. Well, okay, we'll run long for this class and next, and I'll hay in the dark. Again. I'm experienced at being late.

Joy and Ollie were Joy and Ollie. Ollie wanted to charge ahead of Joy, but got worried when he got too far ahead of her. Both English riders had good seats and solid experience, though, so while they were very challenged, they did fine.

I staked out some of the ground poles, and had them do some pattern work over them. Well...it was meant to be a serpentine, but some stuff got lost in my explanation and it turned into a C. Whatever. They had the challenge of trotting the yahoos over poles, and it was mostly okay, as they worked on putting together getting these particular horses to trot and stay trotting (and consistent, since Ollie is apparently allergic to going one speed)...and then Joy decided to full-on jump a ground pole. Because of course she did. Her rider sat it fine, but was understandably spooked. Honestly, possibly more by the three strides of canter after the hop over the big scary pole than anything else. She was pretty emotionally done after that, and offered twice to dismount early. The second time was after I'd commented to Joy that I would need to school her. So I did switch her off and get on the little mare, demonstrating a bit of how exaggerated you sometimes end up needing to be with your hands as Joy tossed her head up like she was going to rear on me. Oh, Joy. (Chaos, and Brooke was right there. I really hope what I think I know is actually anything, and that I didn't make a complete and total ass of myself in front of my new friend and a cool trainer I admire. Also that I wasn't giving my poor student bad information. I'm not a show rider and never have been, and there's worlds of different things to know.)

So, we end the English lesson and NOW it's time to change saddles again! Fortunately Joy's rider knows her way around an English saddle enough to help, and while I switch Ollie back over she untacks Joy. Because FUCK IF I'M GRABBING TWO FRESH HORSES AT THIS POINT. I WILL JUST SUFFER, INSTEAD.

Switchover happening, yay, and I get my fresh, new, starry-eyed students aboard, one for whom this is their second lesson and the other for whom it was the first, and I even remembered the kiddy stirrups this time--GODS FUCKING DAMNIT, THIS ONE IS FOR LITERAL BABIES!!! So I leave my first-timer student sitting on Ollie in the middle of the arena and run back to the tack room, again, to see if I can find a second set of actually useful kiddy stirrups or if I'm taking the English ones back off. Fortunately, there's a set on Sonny's saddle, so I grab that and run again back to the arena.

So Ollie's rider is on, and I load up Joy's rider. Huzzah, now it's just time for the lesson. Buuut Joy and Ollie's riders were having trouble. Ollie and Joy didn't want to track around the arena, and their riders didn't have the skills yet to steer them well enough or keep them moving. We kept trying, I kept coaching, but we weren't having any luck. Okay, this happens sometimes. So I start walking around the arena, and the horses follow me. I'm hoping that after a few laps the horses will be willing to be more independent. NO SUCH LUCK. Okay, guess I'll walk forever.

We keep going. Every time I try and peel away, the riders get stuck. Stuck by the gate, stuck by a barrel, stuck on the mounting blocks. Finally, at the end of the lesson I have them trot...and Joy decides to toss her head up and offer to rear. Each time. Great. So, since I'm running with anyway, I grab her halter and pull her head down. Again, and again, and again.

But finally we finish the time, get everybody off and untacked, and I put Joy and Ollie away. Finally I'm ready to feed.

And the kabota is empty. Okay, cool. I load up my hay and start delivering. Didn't one boarder say her horse's feeding was changed while I was racing to switch over to the English saddles? Well, whatever, hopefully the info's up by the stall. It was not.

But I finish up and finally head home. 12 mile day, bro.

[crithaus]

I'm cooking a fic I'll probably never write in my brain where Vex is doing alright y'know, she's got a beautiful new home, the world has been saved yet again, and her favorite people are all safe and accounted for (all but one, y'know), and Vesper is a joy to watch growing up, and then the first in a series of bombs.

She starts feeling sick and the feeling at that point is half 'do I know this? Don't I remember this?' and half 'dear god I have the plague.' so she and Percy head to Pike and after a brief commune, Pike with all the gentleness she can bring to bear tells them the great news, she's pregnant. And so is the pause. Percy is the first to get up in arms about it, and her solemn face, "what is it?"

"...you are pregnant. With twins. A boy and a girl."

And suddenly it all becomes clear. The joy of that knife and its gutwrenching twist and Vex understands the look on Pike's face because she feels it on her own, how very ironic. And he's not here to see this funny twist of fate. How ironic that she's currently creating another soul set on four legs, another heart broken in half like a sweet for them to share, another...and how ironic that time loops so perfectly again, already, with her in her own shoes and her mother's both.

And Vex and Percy sit with this news for a moment, there are tears of sorrow and tears of elation and Vex takes a second to walk through the woods and think and plan and mourn a little, and Percy let's her go with his head all full of his own twin siblings. He offered to come with her, his heart traipsing off into the Parchwoods would be better with company, but she declines and he goes back to home and Cass and Vesper to wait.

He really doesn't have to wait too long. What comes back isn't Vex though for a moment he thinks it might be, what comes back is worse. He thought the last time was bad, when he didn't recognize his own brother for a hair's breadth, when he was so very changed by his service, but this is worse. Vax, face ringed with raven's feathers and eyes black and that boney plantlike growth shielding his shoulders like epaulettes he knows Vax wouldn't ever wear, with a face more alive then it was in years, storms into his office in a flurry of shadow with a small string clenched in his fist and instead of joy and yelling and hugs, all Percy gets is a curt, "where is she?"

Which is so fun y'know, Scanlan can't cast wish anymore so your long dead brother who you weren't even supposed to see the last time is here and he can't even enjoy it because Vax isn't talking about Vesper, he could only be talking about one person, and she's been gone for almost two hours and he couldn't even have thought to raise the alarm for at least another two and what does that mean- and Vax, as is his wont, opens his fist without another word and Percy sees it, a thick, braided string of solid gold emanating light that is fading even now, and frayed at the end just a little bit.

A beat of silence, Percy stopping himself from screaming to break it, Vesper is napping after all.

"Her string has been cut." Vax says

Like that makes any sense. Like this whole situation isn't insane. "It is impossible, It's against Her doctrine, it is an affront to what She stands for," Vax continues, voice wooden but undercut with a fury that would be so familiar if what stood before Percy was his brother and not Her loyal servant, the one he himself put up to the task, "and We will not have it."

"and that's why you're here. Not because of your sister, because of the Matron-" Percy is cut off immediately by the sharpest gaze ever seen before or since, and by the briefest flash of brown eyes in all that inky tar blackness.

"I'm here because her time is many years from now, surrounded by your kids, and Keyleth, and Pike, Grog, Scanlan if he manages. I'm here because I break no deals, and this," he holds the string up, "is not supposed to happen. I am here, Percival, because she isn't, and wasn't, and there will not be a world without her in it for decades to come as long as I am there to make it so. I'm here because my sister is gone, and her string is cut, and that isn't fucking possible, and you are going to help me find her and restore this. I have no other soul to offer the Matron, and my heart has vanished somehow, so if you can manage not to kill her a fifth time I would ask your help."

And Percy is ofc overrawed and petrified and furious and he has a daughter so he can't go flying off the handle now and he has 2 actually, and a son, and most importantly of all, a wife, his future and judgement gone without a trace. Not dead, not yet, which is more baffling still, but gone.

And Vex for all her trouble was just walking around the woods when everything went dark, y'know she was stepping carefully over a thatch of tangled underbrush and suddenly the sun overhead just vanishes and that is worrying but there's this pressure in her chest that's even more worrying spreading through it and she looks down and there's an arrowhead poking out between her ribs, and gold blooming out like a flower from the wound. That's not right, is it? Gold? And not red?

And she turns and this man who would almost remind her of Pelor if he had an iota of the gentle kindness is staring at her as the world begins to grow fuzzy. "My dear, my new champion, we and I will make this rotten world new again. Take my hand, my Vex'ahlia, and we will make it right." And her head is fuzzy, but she isn't stupid. She opens her mouth to tell him to fuck the hell off and notices two things in rapid succession. The blood dribbling out of her mouth is gold, and the arrow tugs, it doesn't hurt but like the pain she should be feeling it invades her very cells like a plant taking root and this thing turns her feet and forces her forward as the fuzziness increases. She should be worried, she should scream and thrash and run, she's a mother now, and the thought of her three little babies, her daughter and her new twinnies, is enough to shake whatever the fuck this is for only a moment, to which the man looks impressed, but it isn't enough.

"you were the champion of that doddering old man, but he's locked behind the gate, and I am here, and I will burn him out of existence and take my rightful place back, and you will be more than a silly champion, my Vex'ahlia. You will be my avatar. You will be the Sun incarnate, and your children will burn the world new, and together this plane will be ours."

And as the golden ichor pours down her mouth and chest, there is a fission of warmth inside her, where her heart should be, that warms her from tip to toe. Her face contorts into a smile as the fuzziness blots her out entirely and her mind is put away somewhere small and tidy and neat and barren, and she hears her small far off answer, "of course. Together."

And it's Vax and Percy finding the cult of this elder sun god that Pelor vanquished cuz he's fucking evil and he's trying to sneak past the divine gate by using Vex as his Avatar and he wants to burn the whole world to a crisp and start over as the head god and obviously is a sworn enemy of the Raven Queen so he'll try and fuck her and Vax up too, and the tiny widdle twins would be his first new followers the second they're born so he keeps them safe, and with her fate string cut RQ can't uphold her end of the bargain so Vax is let out to play to reestablish the terms and exploits the fuck outta that there loophole, and Vex as his Avatar goes around making awesome druid-y fire magic happen, and radiant damage with a twist* too, and pure utter chaos as well obvs, the elder su god is wicked powerful and will kill any other god/cleric/holy person on sight, and Vax while on this hunt to save his sister eventually sheds that fucked up influence from Dalen's Closet and it's funny cuz now Vex is the clouded, distant one and Vax is perfectly sober and desperate to save his sister, and Percy's both saving his wife and babies and bantering like old times with his brother, and RQ possesses Vax for a bit to help fight Vexmano a mano,,

And after a long and bloody fight a la orthax, Percy eventually gets through to Vex and says something so tender and gay to get her to stop fighting them a la "Darling take the mask off," and they get the elder sun god out of her and fix everything and reunite and RQ is like well since the world keeps ending I guess you can stay here until your own natural life Vax, so Vex gets to introduce Vax to his niece and eventually his niece and nephew, and then he goes and lives with gilmore and kiki and he's so damn gay about it and everyone is happy

[bloodycassian]

LEATHERBOUND PART 2 - Reader x Cassian

The bell at the front didn't ring when he stepped inside. The oddity of it made him stop in his tracks. That, and the pile of books you crouched over.  "What happened?" He gasped, taking in the small shop. There was broken glass inside, but the front window was already replaced. The shards cast a delicate shimmer over the entire inside. The mud caked onto the back wall where your desk sat reeked. "Are you okay?" Concern was painted plainly across his features. Rage roiled inside his gut at the thought of anyone who would do you harm. What if you had been inside when it happened?  He couldnt bare to think of it. Couldn't tempt himself to imagine what he would do to whoever did it. He would have showed them why the Lord of Bloodshed was named as such. His rage ceased when he saw the strain your wings showed as you tried to push one of the stacks of books back up. He rushed to your side and helped you push it up, only a few smaller novels fell out.  You waved him off, trying to ignore the way his concern made you downright giddy. "Some kids... It happens every now and again." You sighed, picking up the runaways from the floor. You were grateful your collection hadn't been damaged. Thankfully the spells had worked and warded against them actually entering the shop.  Cassian stooped to help you pick up the few that had fallen, then you noticed his boots. "Shoes!" You squeaked. He swore under his breath and kicked them off at the front, returning to help you. His muscle was a great help in re organizing. You got the piles straight this time, and without hurting yourself. You also didn't need a ladder to get the stacks all to the same height. "Anything else?" He asked, placing the final pile atop the last row.  "Ahh.." You glanced above the door where the bell no longer was. "If you could find me a new bell... I dont know what happened to the old one." The bell had been in the shop since it was your grandmothers. It did hold sentimental value, but nothing that would kill to be gone. It was on its final days anyway you told yourself.  "Any preference what kind?" He asked, flipping through a novel about Wyverns. He smiled a bit and set it back where it had been. The glass on the floor reflected rainbows all over the small rooms, it painted your skin with them. He tried not to stare at the beauty there. "One that works." You smiled. "I'm going to owe you that gold piece back for helping me."  "Dont worry about it. You can help me in return." You led him to your usual spot at the counter. He leaned against it casually, in a way that made him look at peace in your nook. Your heart squeezed at the thought of him being so at ease in your space. "We're looking for an old tome. Something that you would definitely recognize." He dragged a finger across the tabletop, along a long carved initial of some Illyrian child long ago. You hummed, thinking about the few tomes you'd encountered on your travels before settling in Illyria as a book merchant. "What year?" You asked, hoping to help in some way. Even if it was to steer him a different direction. You wanted to help him find whatever he needed.  "Unknown... it may be made from stone." He said, his voice quieting. You stilled at the words. The oldest stone tomes were the ones that meant no good was coming. The book of breathings had been one of them. You could feel the color drain from your face. He nodded, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.  "It's important. If you know anything... please let me know." He gave you a grim smile and patted the desk. "And I expect that cake next time I come over too." He tapped the wood counter and gave you a quick goodbye. "If you need anything let me know!" He called halfway out the door.  You wished you could. You wished you did have some way to 'let him know'. you sulked in the back room for the rest of the day.  === "Where's my cake?" "It's been two weeks, I gave it to the shop next door." You scolded, putting the silvers from the last customer into your box. "It was going bad." You reasoned when he pouted at you. "Well was it good at least?" He pulled a blue and brown leather clad book from a shelf, observing it.  "I dont know, I didn't try it." You admitted, stepping back from the wall to see your newest decoration. A nice wooden clock that you had repaired.  He looked at you with an appalled expression.  "Despite you not making good on our deal, I made good on mine. Your bell, as requested." He presented the small bronze bell with a hook to you. You grinned, taking it from him and testing it. He watched your eyes light up at the sound. It wasn't just a bell. It was a chime. It rang out different sounds from each angle it hit. "Cass-" He stopped you, ready for your protests.  "You cant make me return it. I threw the box in the Sidra and they wont take it back without it." He was smug about it. And he didn't feel bad about making you take the gift either. His hope soared when you gave him a glare, but dinged the bell again.  "Well... you need to install it." You nodded to the empty hook above the door. He smiled wildly and got to work. If he was honest with himself, any reason to be around you more was welcome. Even if it was as simple as replacing a bell. Hell if he could read a book to you that'd be a dream for him.  He was addicted. He had to admit it to himself. But he didn't have the willpower to quit you. It was a strange feeling. He normally had resentment ever visiting Illyria, but lately it had been nothing but joy at the prospect seeing you. You went to the back room, weaving around stacks upon stacks of books. There had been more incoming lately, due to a temple in Summer court being destroyed. The books salvageable were sent all over Prythian, and somehow most ended up with you. The bell chimed, loud and musical. It would take a few weeks to get used to it. It filled you with a joy that sparked. "That sounds great!" You called, bringing over a book that you had set aside for him. It was one of the older ones in the collection, and one of the worst smelling. You wanted to show him in part just to see his reaction to the smell. It had been at the bottom of one of the stacks that had gotten knocked over when the window was broken. "The Ancient ones? Are you making an age joke at me?" He gave you a mock glare, but flicked open the book. You closed it sharply, giving him a look he didn't understand.  "If I was it would be an insult to myself as well. It's the only book I could find that even mentioned what you're after." You flicked the small bookmark you had indicated the page with. Your eyes locked on to his, marveling for a second at the deep hazel there. "You should look at it, later." Your eyes darted behind him where someone approached your door. Your heart dropped. Behind the woman stood a group of Illyrians across the way, pointing at the shop and making large gestures. "I'll be seeing you." You dismissed Cassian, holding open the door for the familiar old woman with shriveled wings. She gave him a nod and kicked her small slippers off with ease. The males across the way turned back into their own conversation when Cassian appeared at the doorway. His eyebrows knit together at your rushing him, but he saw himself out. The bell dinged behind him when he left. The coldness of the wind did nothing to ease the worry he felt for your reaction. Did you not want to be seen with him? Was he supposed to be keeping your meetings a secret? He glanced back to the large storefront window, where you showed the female a section of novels on the far wall. You didn't glance back.  The market bustled with life, several vendors calling out deals and different items they offered. A group of loud males spat at the snow slicked ground as he passed. He ignored the rumble of rage in his stomach, continuing on to the edge of a cliffpoint off the back of a shop.  He took off with a yearning deep inside the pit of his stomach.

[bigskydreaming]

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

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

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

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Listen, you - “

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason sighed gustily. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

She ignored him, because of course she did. 

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s this all about anyway?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

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

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

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

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 

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

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

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

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

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

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

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

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

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

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

[ellana-ravenwood]

“It’s Alfred dayyyy” - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Every year, every single year, your family reunites to celebrate the marvel that Alfred Pennyworth is.

Because Alfred does deserve his own “holiday” really. This has been sitting in my draft for almost two years, someone send me an ask that reminded me of it and I just suddenly really wanted to write it. I hope you’ll like it : 

my master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

Midnight, a new day :

“And we will be waiting for you at 8 am, your mom and I forced him to sleep in, but we all know he will be awake by that time anyway.”

“Ok, I’ll pick Jaybird on my way there.” 

“Jason is coming ?” 

“He said he would.”

“Oh. Good.” 

Dick did his hardest not to roll his eyes. “Oh. Good.” he says, as if the news didn’t make him wanna jump in joy. But of course, the Batman has a reputation to keep, if he showed too much emotions in one sitting, he’d probably explode. 

The truth was that if Jason was coming...Well if Jason was coming, it meant they were finally on the road to forgiveness. And Dick knew that Bruce had been waiting a long time for this. Bruce...and everyone else really. 

Especially you and Alfred. 

“In any case, be there by 8. We’ll do the usual. Now that I think of it, could you maybe pick up his cake at West Side’s bakery ? Your mother was going to do it, but if you pick up Jason...I think he lives in the area ?” 

Of course, Bruce knew exactly that Jason indeed lived not far from Alfred’s favorite bakery. Because he was keeping an eye on him. Not out of mistrust, or thinking he would kill again (he promised his mom, you, he would stop, but the promise was still recent, so was his return), but because...Well, it was his boy. 

Ever since Bruce adopted Dick, he never stopped worrying about his kids. He never stopped trying to keep an eye on them. It got even worst after Jason’s death...He was actually overbearing many times, which lead Dick away more than once. 

But he’d always be back. 

Just like Jason, eventually, would be fully back. 

For the moment, it was enough that he’d come by tomorrow. 

For tomorrow was the one and only...”Alfred day”. 

“Yeah sure, we can pick the cake up.” 

“Alright. Well. I’m going home, and you lot should too. We promised Alfred, after all. An entire day without any vigilante’s business. Unless there’s an emergency of course. Good night.” 

“’Night dad.” 

Bruce turns to his youngest kids, expecting them to follow him, but Damian says : 

“We’re right behind you, we’re just gonna hang out with Grayson a little more. Since he moved to Blüdhaven, we almost never see him...”

“Guiltripping me will not work little brother.” 

“Are you sure ?” 

Silence. And then Dick turns to his father : 

“I’ll get them home soon, we’re gonna go get some ice cream.” 

Bruce smiles, of this small genuine smile he only has when around his children. He nods, tell them not to stay out too late, and leaves, on his way back to you. 

12:30 pm, Batcave.

“You are late, Master Bruce.”

“Only by half an hour. I had to see Dick before coming back. Logistic talk.” 

As he speaks, Bruce takes his armor off, stretching a little after this short night full of not much happening. As if every villain in Gotham knew this day was happening, and they too would give a break to the butler (because if Bruce was resting, then Alfred could rest too). 

“Well it means you’ll have to start half an hour late tomorrow, this is the deal. Where are the children ?” 

“Alright. I will. And they’re getting ice cream with Dick. Now please, go to bed before she catches you up.” 

“Lady (Y/N) will understand that I was making sure you are home on time.” 

“She does understand yes, and she’s also telling you to go rest this instant ! You have slept even less than Bruce this past few days for god’s sake !” 

Both Bruce and Alfred jumps a bit as you enter the bat cave, smiling at them. Alfred raises his hands in a sign of peace, smiles at you, gives you a kiss goodnight on your forehead (a nightly tradition, by now...you never had a dad, and Alfred took it upon him to catch up lost time), and leaves. 

You turn to Bruce, and gives him your hand. 

He takes it gladly, a smile on his lips. The kind he only shows when around those he loves... 

A “glad you’re here” kiss, and a few words : 

“You know, my favorite thing about this day is that you’re home all day long, and I don’t have to miss you...” 

As usual, your words grip his heart, and his arms tighten around you. Even after years of being together, you could always make his pulse race with only a few words. Sometimes just a look...

He doesn’t resist or look back, when you give his hand a pull and leave the bat cave. 

Rare were the occasions Bruce would forget about his vigilante work. In fact, only one day a year, would he completely forget about it. Because he promised. And because it was a special day. 

A day to celebrate the man he came to view as his father. 

Alfred day. 

1 am, in “Giovanni’s 24/7 gelato” shop. 

The waiter of the place didn't even blink, as he served ice creams to a bunch of kids at 1 am, in the heart of Gotham. Used to it really. Nothing in this city was like any other place. Most people were night dwellers, even children.

Probably because, thanks to a certain group of vigilante, they all felt safer when the sun was down. 

“So, how did it start exactly, this Alfred day ?” 

Duke asks, after taking a full scoop of his favorite ice cream, curtesy of a certain Dick grayson. 

You had told Duke, about a week prior to it, that he had to clear his schedule for this particular day but didn’t really explain what it was exactly. Just that it was to celebrate Alfred. Not giving much more context. 

Dick smiles, and say : 

“How did it start ? Haha, oh man, it’s quite the story.” 

With an annoyed sigh, Damian says : 

“Just out with it already Grayson, we know, you were the only one that knew them by then blahblahblah.” 

“Do I sense a hint of jealousy, little bird ?” 

Damian doesn’t answer, but plants his spoon a little bit more aggressively in his gelato. Ah yes, maybe he was a tiny bit jealous that Dick had the luck to have their parents all for himself, once upon a time...Maybe. 

“Well anyway, legend has it that mom chose the date.”

Dick takes a dramatic pause, making the siblings who already heard the story (so everyone but Duke) roll their eyes. Their oldest brother had a flair for dramatic retelling of past events. 

“A long long time ago, on this day, when I was only 8 and just came into the family, they got into a bad fight. When I was little, before Jason came in, they got on the verge of breaking up a few times. Even did really broke up once, worst fucking time of my life, feeling like I was losing another family (A/N : referencing this story : The break-up)...”

A shot pause, this time, not for dramatics, but because the memory was genuinely painful and Dick had to take a short break. He continues : 

“So anyway, on this day, a long time ago, Mom discovered how vital Alfred was to this family. She said it’d been a day where she wanted to literally kill our father because he was so damn annoying, and overly brooding, and stupid – her words not mine- and that Alfred calmed her in just a few words. I don’t quite know what he told her, or what he told dad. All I know is that he told me that he wouldn’t let them break-up again over a stupid fight, and um, next thing I know, I’m avoiding the East wing for a few hours.” 

“Oh...Oh no Dick gross !” 

Dick chuckles, enjoying a bit too much messing with his little siblings. 

“Anyway, mom decided that Alfred deserved a day, in the year, where we would do everything HE wants because without him, our family would crumble. It just sort of became a tradition. So from midnight right now, to midnight of next day, no vigilante business. And we spend the day all together with him.” 

“That’s actually...a really sweet story ?” 

“It really is Dukie, it really is.”

“Dukie ?”

“Ah sorry, you’re part of the family now, which earns you a nickname from me. Jaybird. Timbo. Dami. Cass or Cassie if I feel like being a particularly doting older brother. So...had to find one for you. It was between Dukie and Dukester so-”

“Dukie is fine.”

Everyone snickers as Duke rolls his eyes, and then he asks : 

“So...What exactly are we gonna do ?” 

“Oh, well it’s simple. It starts at 8 am when we arrive, and we kick off with...”

4 am, Alfred’s bedroom. 

You open the door to Alfred’s room quietly, as you would sometimes to make sure your children sleep. 

This time, you were checking to see if the butler did really go to bed. One of the point of Alfred day, was that he had to feel perfectly fine, and he never had a full night rest ! 

So if you had to make sure he did during that time, then you would. 

Your children had came home a few hours ago, happy they had some time with their oldest brother. Dick had been away often lately, and they missed him...You knew they were gonna guilt trip him into buying them a snack. 

You and Bruce had had some alone time before they came home, that you definitely took advantage of...But for now, you escaped your husbands grip to come and check on Alfred, making sure he was sound asleep. 

And he was. Good. Perfect. He’d have a good night sleep. A full night of sleep. 

Quietly, you left the room again, unaware that a smile slowly rose on the Butler’s face... 

8:02 am, Alfred Day : 

Bruce is the one that opens the front door for them. They have their own keys, of course...but they both forgot them, as usual. 

They’d normally just climb through a window, or sneak into the backyard, knowing where all the security devices were (the back door was never closed because of this), but decided that for this day, they’d just ring the bell and come in the right way. 

Without much surprise, Bruce answers the door. It’d either be him or you, during Alfred’s day. Or anyone that wasn’t Alfred really. 

Dick and Jason move to remove their shoes (house rules, NO SHOES inside) and coats, while Bruce looks at them, waiting for them so they can all walk back to the kitchen. 

Jason is the fastest, and there’s this embarrassed silence between the three of them. Bruce smiles awkwardly at Jason, who looks away as soon as their eyes meet. With a “tt” very typical of his little brother, Jason says : 

“Don’t misunderstand this, I’m here for Alfred. And...For mom.”

“I know.” 

“Good.” 

“Yes.”

Silence. Awkward, as Dick takes way too long to untie his shoes, and pretend he’s not hearing anything.

Bruce knows what he’s doing. He knows his oldest son is trying to give him some more time “alone” with Jason. But he’s not really sure what to say...

“I’m um...I’m glad you came.” 

Good. That was good. Keep going on that path Bruce, that’s actually-

“Yeah, whatever. I’m going ahead, you know the way Dick.” 

Damn. Almost there. Almost there with an actual moment between them two. Dick sighs, and puts a hand on his father’s shoulder. 

“He’ll come around.” 

Bruce doesn’t answer, he exhales slowly and nods, not very convinced...But today was not a day to dwell on the bad. Jason and him would make this work, if only for today. 

Because today was Alfred’s day.

8h30 am, the Kitchen. 

The butler came down in the kitchen, well rested and pleased to be greeted by his entire family. Your smiles already made his day perfect, and if “Alfred Day” was done in this instant, he’d still be happy. 

“Sit down Pennyworth, we have made breakfast for you ! Well...Mom and father did...but we helped ! I was in charge of making tea ! And I think you will appreciate the way I brewed it. I followed an ancient Japanese recipe, and I reckon an aficionado like yourself will appreciate it.” 

Damian bloomed when he was with his family. To people who didn’t know him as well as his siblings and parents, he could seem like a petulant and arrogant child, but he was the opposite of that. 

He was insecure, and unsure. Scared of being left alone. And so to overcompensate all the fear instilled in him by years of abuse from his “grandfather”, the infamous Ras Al’Ghul, Damian could be quite a little jerk sometimes. 

But when he was with his family...He opened up. He smiled. And he spend hours trying to brew the perfect cup of tea for the grandfather he actually chose to have. 

“Bruce made your favorite Alf’, didn’t do half a bad job either -you smile at your husband, and give him a quick peck, which have the famous result of making your children make their best “ew” face-. You taught him well.” 

You say, smiling widely at the butler.

It’s true, Alfred did teach Bruce how to cook really well. People often had the misconception the billionaire was bad at housework, which was wrong of course. 

When his parents were alive, they’d insist he still had chores to do, so he wouldn’t be too spoiled. And when Alfred raised him, he taught him as much as he could so that the boy could hold his own. 

Bruce was a great cook (you could definitely attest to that, what with him cooking your favorite meals on date nights and all). And he always made Alfred’s perfect breakfast for his special day. 

“Jason and I just arrived so we didn’t really participate, but we picked up your favorite cake so it counts right ?” 

Dick says, a wide smile on his face. Oh master Dick, Alfred blessed the day this little boy walked in their lives. 

He wasn’t so little anymore, but he was always such a joy to have over. Even when he had his tantrum as a youngster (and now sometimes too, although he became better in controlling his burst of anger), Alfred couldn't help but love that child. 

The butler turned to Jason, who shyly smiled at him and...Alfred’s heart was full. 

“I am very happy to see you in this house, Master Jason.” 

He said, as he sits around the kitchen table. Jason’s cheek tints slightly of red, as they always do when he’s a bit embarrassed and overwhelmed. 

Jason was such a kind and sensitive child. He never quite got used to compliments, having been used to abuse and hate, and he would always blush under them. Alfred was glad to see that, even after the horror Jason went through, small things could still make his cheek turn rosy...

Jason sat down at the table, looking happier than he had in ages. 

“For you.” 

Cassandra said, settling in front of him a plate full of food, while Damian put the the cup of tea down. 

Sweet little Cassandra. It was always a pleasure to hear her talk. Poor little thing was never taught love, or even how to talk...Having you in her life greatly helped. Having a family, greatly helped. 

She still didn’t talk very often, but when she did, all of her words truly counted. She laid a small kiss on Alfred’s forehead, to bid him good morning, and went to sit in her usual spot, right between you and Damian. 

“You will be happy to know, Alfred, that all of our electronic devices have been off since midnight last night ! Yes, even mine. Promise !” 

Tim exclaims, smiling at him. 

Tim was the only one out of all of Bruce’s children to have entered this life willingly. The only one that came knocking at their door, just really wanting to help. 

Unfortunately, him too lost his parents over time (although they weren’t particularly great ones)...But the first impulse the boy had, was that he just loved Batman and wanted to give a hand ! 

Tim was selfless, maybe a little too much, and often worried you to death. He would get wrapped up in his projects even more than his father, and needed a constant reminder to take care of himself...task that you, Bruce, Alfred and his siblings would share gladly. He would give back anyway, working his ass off and putting his own life on the line for them any hour of the day... 

At the furthest side of the table from him, sat Duke. 

This was his first “Alfred Day”, and he was looking at things curiously, nonetheless happy to be here. 

Young Duke’s situation was a little special. His parents were still alive, and he still hoped they’d find a cure for their madness. Because of this, the boy would often distance himself on purpose from some family events, finding it hard to find his own place. 

This was one reason he didn’t wear the Robin mantel for long, and almost immediately went to be The Signal. It didn’t help either, that he was the only metahuman. 

And yet...Yet as the days went by, Duke felt more and more at home at the Manor, and would more and more hang out with everyone. More and more felt like he was truly part of the family, now. 

Of course, him moving to Wayne Manor was all very recent, and he needed time. Time that everyone was giving him willingly and gladly. Time to adjust and find his place. 

But here, sitting around the kitchen table bustling with activity and laughter, Duke felt like...he felt like this Alfred Day brought him one step closer to truly be a part of it all. After all, to him too, the butler had been nothing but great. 

Alfred had that talent, to congregate everyone around him... 

You felt happy, there, sitting amongst your children, your love, and the man you came to consider your father. 

Alfred had a good feeling, when he first met you. He knew. He knew you’d be the one to “tame” the bat, to not take his shit when he was being a jerk, and to give him unconditional love. 

“Unconditional”. 

It was important, to be in a relationship with a man like Bruce Wayne. 

But oh. Oh he was giving you back every bits of love you ever gave him, times a hundred. He let you in in his world, and had no intention of ever letting you go. 

Breakfast went by fast, as everyone talked away, and enjoyed each others company. 

It was very rare, nowadays, that everyone could be in the same place. At least one of them would be busy normally. But on this day...on this day they surely made sure they would be free. 

And so here they were, having breakfast altogether, happy. 

If only people from the outside could see this scene; If only. 

Then they’d know, just like Alfred knew, that this family was the strongest, tightest that ever existed, and that there was nothing but love between all of them. 

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

11 am, the theater.

Before the first “Alfred Day” happened, Wayne Manor did not have a “theater”. 

It had a “Ballroom number 3″. 

It was your idea, to turn it into a small theater, so that Alfred could perform for everyone. 

Over the years, you had realized that Alfred was actually a very talented actor. After all, he filled in Batman’s shoes many times, to pretend that Bruce couldn’t possibly be him. And he might’ve use his dramatic talent to convince you and the rest of your family to do what he wanted you to do...

Clever man. 

On Alfred Day, the first activity, after breakfast, would be to take part in a monologue of his. Usually shakespearian. But sometimes he’d come up with small surprises. He once recited the “heaven” part of the Divine Comedy by Dante, because he knew you loved that poem. 

It was absolutely brilliant, and you almost wished he had pursued an acting career instead of becoming the Wayne’s butler...but then, you would’ve never met him. 

By 11 am, breakfast would usually be done and it was time for a performance of a year. By that time, Barbara and Stephanie would’ve join. 

They didn’t live in the Manor, but they were close friend of the family. Friends that definitely knew how precious Alfred was to everyone. 

This year, Alfred decided to entertain you with a series of short monologues taken from a wide array of material, from Shakespeare to movies. It was fascinating. They all had their snacks as if they were at the movie theater, and were captivated by his performance. 

For Alfred, it was a way to relive his youth, working in London’s east end’s theaters. And to perform his hobby in front of a live audience. 

So sure, maybe said live audience might’ve been a bit biased towards him, but he knew their applause and praises were genuine. 

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

1 pm, East Wing living room. 

Lunch was always skipped, as you snacked too much during Alfred’s performance, and he was never hungry after he acted. 

You’d directly skipped to Alfred’s compliment session. 

He both loved and hated this time. Loved it because it was a treat to see he positively impacted his family. Hated it because it was never comfortable to just hear people compliment you The moment they gave him a cherished memory they shared with him...

Each year, one by one, they would tell him something he did for them that really was important to them. 

It was custom that the youngest would start. So Damian stood up, and said : 

“My memory this year, is one that happened not long after I came to live in Wayne Manor. I had just gotten into a fight with Tim, and been mean to mom as she tried to talk to me about it...I felt terrible. I felt like I would never be someone good. Pennyworth came in my room, ignoring me when I told him to get away from me. He settled some cookies for me, and told me a story of my father when he was young. Of how stubborn he used to be, and how sometimes, he’d say very hurtful things he didn’t mean...Alfred explained to me that it was normal to feel angry, when we’re hurt. That it was ok to not always be on our best behavior. That the people who love us will understand, and do understand. That they’ll still be there if they really care. Then he left, and I went to apologize to my mom. And she was there. I also apologized to Tim, and him too, was there...”

Damian sat back down, avoiding everyone’s eyes, as he felt too overwhelmed with feelings. You threw an arm around his shoulder, and he instantly hid his face in your own shoulder, acting like a little scared kitten who’d hide under his mom. 

It melted everyone’s heart, but nobody would say anything of course. This was between Damian and Alfred. 

It was Duke’s turn, and he was a little nervous, as it was his first time : 

“Mine is...Well...It’s going to sound so silly, after Damian’s heartfelt story, but one of my best memory with you Alfred, is when I first put The Signal mantel, and immediately hurt myself that night. I came back to the bat cave early, feeling shameful I couldn’t finish my patrol. You took care of my wound, and simply reassured me. It was just...soothing. I didn’t feel bad, as you stitched me up and calmed me down. I felt at peace, for the first time since my parents went mad...I can’t quite remember what you told me, as you just talked about random things, to calm me down. And it worked. As silly as it can sound, it worked. And that’s um...That’s when I started to feel good, here. Ok. That’s all.” 

Duke sat back down too, hoping Tim would start speaking soon. Thankfully, he did. 

“The memory I chose to share today, is one that is rather recent. I was struggling with some...self-worth issues. I felt like I could never fill dad’s shoes. Or Dick’s. Or Jason’s. Or anyone’s. I felt like I was trash. Like I was wasting away. I felt anxiety eating me up, and I was too scared to talk to anyone about it. Even to you, mom. I knew you’d find the right words, but I was just too scared you’d be worried about me. I know you worry a lot. So I didn’t say anything. Alfred walked in on me having a panic attack...and he helped me fight it. Then he scolded me because I didn’t tell anyone anything, and that it was a bad habit to always take all the burden on my shoulders. He then brewed me some tea, and talked about my favorite TV show with me to take my mind off of things...” 

Tim smiled at Alfred, and sat down. You reached for him, and squeezed his hand, making him understand you too, were there. And you worried about all of them all the time anyway so, ya know.

It was Cass’ turn now. Cass always had some interactive things, because she never spoke too long. She held up some drawings she had made (with the help of Damian). It represented her at a ballet recital (to which you all went by the way, and which was amazing. Cass was a talented little star). She gave the small comics to Alfred, took a deep breath, and said : 

“Thank you for helping me work on my dance, even when you were busy. You are a good teacher. For everything, from dance to how to make a perfect loaf of bread. I love your bread. I love your dance lesson. I love eating bread after our lessons. I love you more than bread. Even the sandwiches mom make with your bread and my favorite homemade jam.” 

She then did a few ballet dance move, and sat down again, holding her knees with her arms, and breathing deeply. It was still a difficult exercice for her, to speak. And to convey her feelings through words. It was always difficult, and quite an exploit that she said that much. 

Alfred smiled at her, before turning to Jason. 

“I’ll never forget the day you yelled at Bruce because he tied me up after I stole the batmobile’s tires. How livid you were, and how you threatened him to tell everything to mom. How he instantly looked scared at the idea of her being angry, and how you made him realize he went too far. How you were there, every step of my way adapting to life in a mansion, after living in the streets. But yes, above all, I’ll never forget the day someone stood for me for the first time, when you yelled at da-Bruce. When you yelled at Bruce for me.” 

He almost said “dad”. And that alone, was making Alfred’s heart happy. It was proof there still was some hope to salvage their relationship... 

“Ok, well I’ll be quicker than everyone else. And just say : you’re the best grandfather I could ever ask for.” 

With Dick, there was only two solutions. He would either go into a lengthy reenactment of a very specific event, or throw affirmations like that that would make Alfred feel tears coming to his eyes. 

Today, Dick decided on a short and sweet version, and it fitted perfectly. 

It was now your turn : 

“Every year, I’m reminded how vital you are to this family. And every year, it is tough to chose just one memory I love about you. I always have to think, because there’s so many. But I think this year, I will choose that time I said “yes” to Bruce after refusing his marriage proposal three times, and you screamed in happiness, through your broom across the room, and ran to hug me. It was so out of character for you, it makes me happy just to think about it. But I mean, I can understand the excitement...I was pretty content myself.” 

You smile, looking at your love, and he rolls his eyes at you, before smiling too. Of this pure smile he only shows you. And then he turns to Alfred, and tells him : 

“You made the loss of my parents bearable. Without you, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I’d probably turn...very dark.”

There was a small silence. 

Bruce’s speech was always short and to the point. 

And every time they were all done talking, Alfred would find himself with tears in his eyes. With those last few words from his son, this time didn’t escape the rule, and he found himself dabbing at the corner of his eyes. 

Damian’s next word released the emotional atmosphere as he looked at his father and said : 

“Tt, show off.” 

Everyone bursted in laughter, and this great day continued on... 

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

4 pm, interlude. 

This was Alfred’s few hours of utter peace. Everyone would leave him alone, and he could relax doing something he liked to do (usually reading or something of the sort) while not worrying about anyone. 

You’d give him space. It was very rare, for Alfred to be all alone with his thoughts, thoughts that he was forced to NOT have about his family. 

It was even rarer that he wouldn’t think about Bruce or you, or his “grandkids”. So in this day, when he knew none of them were doing anything dangerous, he took full advantage of it to relax his mind. 

In the meantime, you’d watch a film or two. 

Damian and Tim were in the process of choosing when Duke turned to Bruce, and a smirk on his face asked : 

“Soooo…I heard Alfred Day exists because you annoyed (Y/N) ? »

Bruce glares at Duke, ah he never quite likes to remember why Alfred Day exists…But before he can answer, you enter the room (you went to get some snacks for the movies) and exclaim :

“Don’t let Dick downplay how truly unsufferable he was that day ! Dick always manages to forgive his dad, and make things less worst than they are. It’s a talent really. Annoying doesn’t even cover how awful he was. He had one of those « dark days », decided he should break up with me for my own safety out of literally nowhere, yelled at baby Dick, was mean to Alfred saying he could fire him…I swear I could’ve slapped him.”

“You tried.”

“And if Alfred hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve succeeded. Anyway. Yes. You see, Bruce and I almost broke up that day because he was being really stupid, and Alfred...salvaged everything.”

“I was being stupid indeed...I almost lost...I...”

Sometimes, when he would remind himself of that day he almost went too far and truly drove you away, Bruce would feel almost like an anxiety attack coming over him. Because if he had lost you, and had continue on the path he was taking with Dick...Well he wouldn’t have had that second shot at having a family.

And it was enough of a frightening thought to be overwhelmed with anxiety.

“To be honest, I also was quite stupid. I can be stubborn too, sometimes. And there were time, at the beginning, where I wouldn’t try to be in your place...” 

You say, letting soothing fingers run through his hair, a motion you knew always relaxed him. Bruce instantly calmed down, as your kids made some disgusted faces at your closeness, and the incident was over. 

It was good, though, that Duke asked. First because it was actually pretty funny to think of the fearless Batman getting his ass kicked by his wife...but also because it was a good reminder to him of what he almost lost, and who he used to be. 

Alfred saved him. 

You saved him. 

His children saved him. 

And now, he could appreciate a relaxing movie time with all of you (minus Alfred, who was in his room, probably devouring the cake you got him (because yes, that cake was for him and him only), finally relaxed). 

The movie chosen, everyone took their usual spot on the massive couch, that Bruce had ordered specifically so that his big family could all fit on. 

At one point, both you and Bruce drifted off to sleep, in each others’ arms, and barely noticed your kids placing a blanket on you, rolling their eyes at how teeth rotting sweet you two were. 

6 pm, a walk through the park. 

Alfred loved Wayne Manor’s gardens. 

And he loved even more peacefully walk through them with his family. 

This was the time you were always reminded how massive the “backyard” was, when you’d go through acres of it. 

The kids would play soccer, baseball, football, or anything really. Alfred would often join. He was actually very athletic, and the kids would fight to have him on their team. 

You and Bruce would take part in it too, and your children would always make sure you’d be in the same team. Sure, sometimes you’d stop playing to smooch each others, like two damn teenagers...BUT, having you both on the same team would avoid triggering your crazy competitive minds. 

For some reason, whenever you had to play against each others, you’d both get very ruthless and petty, and it would often time get annoying (for real, you were forbidden to play UNO since a long time by then). 

You’d all spend some times outside, no matter the weather, enjoying a normal family outing. 

Alfred loved this time of the day. 

Because he loved the gardens, but most of all, he loved seeing his family being happy and together... 

9:30 pm, the dinner. 

Dinner was entirely prepared by you, and Alfred only had to come at the table and wait. 

By then, you had a perfect system that made it so the meal was prepped efficiently. It was Alfred’s favorite, of course. 

The table would be filled with all his favorite meals, prepared mainly by Bruce with you guys’ help. 

Your kids would pretend to be waiter in a fancy restaurant, and exaggerate everything, which was very funny. 

And you’d all share a meal, something that was quite rare, in this day and age. 

In fact, you were pretty sure that your entire family being reunited for a dinner happened max three times a year. For the holiday season, for Alfred Day, and for Batman day (you just thought it was funny to celebrate it). 

This was just a time to catch up, and to be together. 

Alfred would ask countless questions to everyone, and everyone would be polite and listen. It’d just be so nice, and relaxing... 

11:30 pm, almost the end. 

The day would end in the batcave, with everyone enjoying each others’ presence for a few more minute before you’d go back to a “normal” life. 

You’d talk about your favorite moment of the day, and how you always really liked “Alfred day”. 

And then it’d be over. Alfred would retake his butler position, and the Batman would prowl the streets of Gotham once more. 

You’d be their home support again, working the computer often, and you-

Ah. Yes. But not yet. 

There were still a few minutes. And it sounded like the perfect time for you to finally talk about a certain news...

You see, Alfred was the one you went to to vent. You loved your family with all your heart... But anyone knowing them just à little bit knew they could be à handful. And Alfred, he was always there. 

So it just seemed fitted for you, that you’d announce this news on that day. While everyone was around, and celebrating Alfred’s existence. 

Because what you were about to say, was one of Alfred’s dearest hope...

12:28 pm, 2 minutes before the end. 

You waited the very last minute, because you thought the effect would be even better. 

And as your husband and kids were ready to leave, you said : 

“Oh wait, I have one last thing to say on this very special day !” 

They all stopped, and turned around, looking at you. You smiled. Nervous, but happy. You knew that you and Bruce wanted this anyway, so it would be fine. And you knew your kids...your kids would be happy. For sure. 

But Alfred. Alfred would be over the moon. And so, without further ado, you said : 

“I’m pregnant !”

Bruce’s eyes went wide, and his mouth opened dumbly. He froze on the spot, before smiling widely and starting to laugh stupidly. His first reaction was to go to Alfred, which you were expecting. 

Your children all reacted at the same time, rushing you like a wave of noise and excited screams and...pfiouh they could be overwhelming. 

Alfred was indeed over the moon. 

And he was the one calming your children, tearing them off of you so he could hug you, and give you some space, too. 

Because that’s what Alfred did. Take care of you. Of his family. 

And Alfred day, this year, ended with him looking at you and Bruce hugging tightly, overjoyed by the news of a future new little addition to the family. 

Up until next year, and this future baby’s first Alfred day...

_________________________________________________

Annnnd it’s 9:12 am, kept my promise to post something “today” haha. Probably not the best time to post. Buuuut...well, another sleepless night (or early morning, all about perspective really haha) of writing. I’m definitely back :). I hope you liked this story, I’m a little nervous after being gone for so long, I feel like I don’t know how to write anymore, and this is all very...mmmmbadhgezhe. I still do hope you liked it a little bit. 

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3. 

[herstarburststories]

you and me and the devil makes three.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x reader, Demon!Dean Winchester x reader, past Lisa x Dean

Summary: Dean is a demon, he will take whatever he wants.

A/N: This got darker than I expected. I wanna make it clear I don't condone or engage with Dean's acts on this. This is my submission for @jawritter 's Make Me Cry Challenge. Congrats, honey! Hope you like it. Dividers by talesmanic and gif credit here

Prompt: I guess I should have been more like her.

Warnings: non consensual kissing, language, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR, non con (kissing and touching but no sex), dirty talk

Dean Winchester was a dreamer.

In the rawest way of the word, the meaning in the dust-collecting dictionaries and not the idealistic form. His eyelids shut close and, just like magic, Dean’s head was as haunted as the home he swore he’d never come back to in Kansas. The ghosts of the past, not ever so very friendly, coming to greet him at least three times per week. Sometimes they were happy films he could never starre in real life, his mom singing or a picnic with a lover saying that they needed to hurry up to get their kid at the baseball. The nightmares were sleepy visions of flesh and blood, mostly about his time underneath, Sam hurting, or his father spilling out his worst fears at his face. 

Maybe it was how the eldest Winchester’s brain compensated for the lack of bedtime tales and docile affairs growing up. The own way that his brittle soul discovered and molded not to let him collapse, or to always keep him on red alert. 

Good and bad deals are mostly a matter of which side you are betting your money on, really.

Because yeah, Dean did wake up feeling like he had shut his forest eyes briefly for twenty minutes instead of hours when he dreamed, but he also had never spent so long trapped in a better place. The green eyed hunter didn’t know which one was worse: the good dreams or the horrific ones. After all, he had went through all the atrocity and made it out alive, but the engulfed craving for light-hearted scenarios was suffocating. The hunter could never have it all. Trust him, he tried. Then, which is more agonizing: to have everything you ever wanted for a couple hours and have every scrap of it taken from you, or to undergo the calamity that accompanied your breaking point? 

Dean didn’t know, he didn’t even know what to tell Sam when he wondered what his brother had dreamt about to wake up sweating and screaming, all the light and stupid apple pie desires and the sharp brutality crawling out of the back of his mind. He made a joke, Megan Fox really liked knives, man. He kept it in, shoved down a good amount of alcohol, and mocked the worry of doing the lawn. Ready for another day. 

But now he was a demon, and apparently whatever he was made of - sulfur, cruelty, and black eyes under garden ones - wasn't worthy quiet reliefs in the middle of the night, or even frightening figments of memory. He became his worst dreams and all the dreams slipped beyond his reaches because of that. Demons, those unholy creatures, didn’t get the human peculiarities. You know what? Fine by him.

Who needed dreams when you don't need sleep, anyway? Even better: who needed dreams when you don't care about what you gotta do to put your greedy hands on the prize you had been eyeing for years? 

Dean Winchester was finally free. Free for the first time since he was a four years little boy who watched his mother burning with a terrorized expression, ironically mimicking the one Mary wore on the ceiling. His dad’s shouting for him to grab Sammy and run, take your little brother and run, echoing through years and years. There was never time for Dean, for his grief or his questions or whatever the child frozen in time under his rib cage could come up with. They said, stupid psychologists with their fancy degrees and malicious bartenders with a unfriendly grun under the counter who learned a little too much, everybody said that when someone was so traumatized as a kid, that person would tend to get frozen at that age. Therefore, how tremendously alleviating was to kill any reminiscing emotion of the whiny child he used to be. 

The kind of freedom that no traveler longed for; when one’s ruined and damaged enough not to care, and just take and take and take like hunger itself. Dean was an evil thing now, what else could he do but act on the figments of the worst intentions?

And feel so fucking good when doing that. 

‘’Where do you think he's going?’’ Your eyes raked over the street, darting between the asphalt under Baby’s wheels and Sam’s weary features.

‘’I don't know.’’ He sighed, attempting to organize his thoughts. Even as a demon, his brother wouldn’t just run miles and miles away by himself for no apparent reason. There had to be something you and Sam were missing out, some unseen clue or a hidden meaning. ‘’What the localizator says?’’

At least you had managed to put a tracker in his boots during your last encounter. Whatever Dean was thinking of starting there, you and Sam wouldn’t let him.

‘’Still Cicero, Indiana.’’ You sighed. Sammy furrowed his eyebrows, a long forgotten memory rising. ‘’What?’’

‘’We had a case there once years ago.’’ He explained, opting not to elaborate. Your and Dean’s relationship was troubled enough with his new self. Sam didn’t want to blow it up completely. His brother would need you once he came back to himself. The look on your face, though, reported how you weren’t buying his cheap excuses. The long haired hunter sighed. ‘’Did Dean ever tell you about that?’’

‘’No.’’

He stepped on the accelerator.

To find the woman was excruciatingly easy. The freckled demon couldn't believe he opened his computer many times and gave up before today. He glanced through the glass window and there she was, standing in all her glory with a body that seemed to forget how to grow old. Her tan skin still glowing, as appetizing as ever. Brown eyes shining so bright, tiny hands that always seemed to know where he wanted to be touched. She was laughing like there was no tomorrow, holding a glass of wine with one hand and her cellphone with the other, while her dark hair was falling so perfectly over her shoulder, like waves against the rocks in the sea.

Dean can’t wait to smell her again, to taste her, to prove her. His fingers were tingling, begging to touch what was his as he hopped off the car, walking towards the porch. He had been gone for a long time, but now he was back. 

He will destroy that quintessential, sequin woman so good.

The Winchester buckled in front of the white door, graced with the sound of the female giggle. Thin walls, he thought, those will be useful to make sure the neighbors know who’s back home. Her steps on the wood floor growing closer and closer as he heard a goodbye, probably aimed at whoever she was on the phone with. It was almost like the caramel skinned woman knew that whoever was on her doorstep wasn’t gonna be a hustled visitor. Or so the demon’s arranged mind said.

‘’Hey, Lis.’’ Dean’s voice lacked any cherishment as she opened the door, who would know that the absence of a soul wouldn't be gelid, just dry? As for her, Lisa’s face was drained of love. For all she was aware of, he was a stranger who knew her name. The male let out a chuckle empty of joy. She really didn’t remember, huh? ‘’Whoa. Cass really fucked up your head, huh? At least he did one thing right.’’

‘’Excuse me?’’ The man with dirty blonde hair and perfect teeth smelled like alcohol. She wasn’t having any of this tonight. ‘’Listen, I don’t know who you are and--’’

‘’Don’t worry.’’ He tranquilized her, although the lopsided grin on his lips held anything but good intentions. ‘’I’ll make you remember. I have a spell. You won’t believe how much you missed me.’’

The mocking laugh that left her lips utterly aggravated him. ‘’I don’t know you. Please leave or I’ll call the police.’’

Dean didn’t need a crowd for that part, a bratty woman in need of a firm hand should get a particular lesson. 

‘’You always liked a little cat and mouse.’’

Speaking of, the demon pushed the door wide open without any effort. Lisa jumped at the sudden move, every instinct inside her deciding that man was a threat and not some harmless wasted guy. Her body was quickly erect, thinking about ways to run and get help, but Dean swiftly pushed her to him and kicked the door closed-- her small figure collided to his chest.

Human savagery was cut in urban ways, molded to civilize the animalistic instincts. Imagine meat. A dead animal on a silver plate, and we couldn’t wait to chew every inch of it. We couldn’t wait to eat it, put that dead thing inside us and hope it’ll be enough to control the predatory hungry. Humans will always be animals, but so will be their rests that constructed the demons. 

Dean may not be a hunter anymore, but he’s still a predator who can't wait to taste his prey. He could small it, the fear in Lisa’s sweat making his mouth water. How much she tried to fight against him and scream other names when his was the only one he wanted her to need tonight. The resistance of a poor human barely made the monster shiver.

He closed his hands around her arms, throwing her against the wall like someone tossed an old toy away. There was no space for delicaly. In that moment, Dean Winchester was a tiger, a lion, the big bad wolf attacking the omega. Lis winced, her back hurting as her fibers. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that man was about to do something so terrible and disgusting to her in her own house, the place she was supposed to feel warm and safe. Why did he seem to know her? Why did he say she was gonna remember? Was he crazy, hallucinating, or drugged? Why was he so satisfied with how frightened her tiny body looked? How could she use all that information to somehow push him away?

‘’Let me go!’’ She demanded, her legs kicking the demon with ferocity. ‘’What’s wrong with you? LET ME GO NOW!’’

The brunette’s skilled body moved itself desperately, and the act of resistance only brought a hysterical laugh out of Dean. The wrong kind of goosebumps washed her skin, she had to run away for her life. This man was mad.

‘’FIRE! FIRE!’’ Lisa started to scream. Well-aware that people were most likely to come around and help a woman screaming if she said fire. ‘’THERE’S A FIRE. SOMEONE HELP ME!’’

One of his hands went to her neck, wrapping his fingers around it to shut her up. That was rubbing him off the wrong way. Lisa Braeden used to beg for his touch, how dared her not to want him anymore? Now that he was better, stronger, and thicker.

The brown eyed girl went quiet, probably scared by his brutal behavior. Dean smiled, a blood stained grin that carried mischief and pervertment. He licked the tears savoring the salty horror coming from her. Just like the day he was a vampire who almost gave in to drinking every drop of her luptuos blood. She may not remember but he did and he couldn't wait to get inside her, those tight walls squeezing his hard cock.

‘’You’re gonna do as I say, Lis. And I won't hurt you… Much.’’ He risped, crooked nose stroking her wet cheek. She whined. ‘’Don’t worry, honey. You loved it. Bet you’ll scream so much once I fuck you good.’’

‘’Please, don’t do it.’’ She begged as he coaxed his body against his. That man was stronger than her, she had no other choice but to plead to his human side. If only she knew.

‘’Begging already?’’ Dean lifted his head, smirking at her. Lisa just wanted to cry and close her eyes until everything was done. How could someone do that? ‘’I told you, don’t worry. I’m gonna make a lil’ spell that will give your memories back and you’ll remember everything. And then we’re gonna have so much fun, Lis.’’

His last murmur was finished with a kiss. A harsh, ruthless kiss. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she could call it a kiss; teeth against each other, his vicious mouth pressed to her weakened lips, his tongue invading her like a robber and showing an unrequited dominance.

‘’Dean!’’ Your voice resonated stridently, louder than the door Sam had stormed open. You couldn’t believe what your eyes witnessed. ‘’Stop it!’’

Dean groaned, as if you and Sam were stepping on his territory. He simply turned his head to you two, not pulling away from Lisa. You couldn’t see her face, your boyfriend’s large shoulder and tall body covering her up. His eyes were still green, which set the scene in an even more atrocious light. 

Your thoughts were racing. How could he come to her, crave her so badly that he drove away miles and miles as a demon? He was supposed not to feel a thing. You prepared yourself for a cold man, not an obsessive one. Apparently, a heart hidden under the black smoke. Choose if it's a gift or Pandora's box. Sam told you their history. Of course he would want that and not you. Dean never left Lisa because he fell out of love for her, he was ripped out from her life. You were so pissed at yourself; how could you picture playing the woman in his veins? How stupid were you? He may be a demon guided by wants and not emotions, but what was love but an amount of outrageous desires laced up with some pretty words and flavored with dependency?

‘’Y/N and Sammy--’’

Love was the wrong word here. Anyway. Go head and unwrap it.

‘’Please help me!’’ Lisa’s voice came to life once more through her quiet cry. Dean hardened the hold around her throat, making her cough a little.

Suddenly, your body is frozen. That, whatever that is, whatever he’s doing to Lisa. It wasn’t love. She didn’t want it. When his frame moved to face you and Sam, you caught a glimpse of her face. She was petrified, her delicate features contorted in wrath and fear and beg for help.

‘’Quiet.’’ Dean howled, glancing at her rapidly before his eyes fell on you and Sam again. ‘’You two are such killjoys. I told you to let me go.’’

You couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. You wanted to puke your guts out.

‘’And what? Kill your ex? Or do something even worse to her?’’ You elicited with disgust.

‘’She’ll come around eventually. Just playing hard to get. You know how frisky women are.’’ The corner of his lips curved into a barbaric grim, one of his hands touching Lisa’s cheek. The victim winced at the touch. ‘’Besides, I’m not just gonna take her. I’ll make her remember and she’ll want me.’’ He shrugged, unbothered by the horrified looks of everyone in the room. ‘’Are you really worried about Lis, Y/N? Or are you just jealous that I didn’t go for you?’’

‘’Enough, Dean.’’ Sam groaned, holding the gun up. It felt oily. ‘’Let her go. And come with us.’’

The demon tossed the brunette away with a simple sleight of hand, pulling his sleeves up with a marred beam. His eyes switched from starry green to black, showing his true facette. It was a peculiar relief. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean.

Yet, Dean’s gruff voice said in a twisted playful tone:

‘’Come get me, Sammy.’’

Dean Winchester was cured. For most people, to heal is to let go or to learn with things. In the doctor’s case, healing is leaving a bruise to cover up a wound. Everyone believed the war started and ended, and that was it. But when something so ravaging is gone, you gotta deal with the trauma.

He was a trauma. Cured from a sickness, drowning in sorrow and waves of woe. All the worst things Dean ever did, he knew now, weren’t to himself or to the monster he so proudly killed. His unspoken acts were against the people he cared about.

The hunter never thought his hands, his bruised and tough hands could ever hurt Lis. The woman who was his lifeline when Sam died, who allowed him to be a father and live in his dreamland of suburban life. All she ever did was to love him, and what did she get for it?

He was disgusted with himself. What almost did to her was enough to hunt him and make him sure he was going back to hell, very deserving this time. Threating to do that to a woman, and enjoy it… Dean couldn’t bear driving into memories. He was selfishly glad he didn’t remember about that, only Sam’s explanation was enough: he went to Lisa, he kissed her without her consent, and Sam and you stopped him going any further. Would his unscrupulous, demon self go ahead? He was too scared to wonder, even though his brother said that he apparently had a spell to make Lis remember and wasn’t planning on just taking her. A forced kiss was disgusting enough. He just wished Sam had put a bullet in his black eyes right there.

You walked in the bathroom that you once shared with the eldest Winchester

She was everything he ever wanted, all the suburban dreams and acceptance of hunter reality without being in it. Lisa loved him completely and you could only love him sideways-- you never wanted to be a mom, or to have a family or live in a suburb. Those were valid goals, just not yours. You thought you and Dean were on the same page about it, but this other side, not only the pervert demon but the domestic man, hadn’t been shown to you until a couple days ago. Sam had cured his brother, his dirty nature washed away with holy water, but you couldn’t help the bruises that came from the dog days. Lisa had her memory erased by Cass again, you didn’t have the same unfair luxury.

‘’Dean.’’ You said, making him look up at you. Bags under his eyes and wrinkles more evident than ever. ‘’We need to talk.’’

He sighed and wiped his face. ‘’Y/N, I don’t want to talk right now.’’

‘’You never do.’’ You scoffed, gaining an incredulous glance from him. ‘’I know that what happened was disgusting and sick and the worst thing you could ever do, but we need to talk.’’

He took a deep breath. ‘’What do you wanna talk about?’’

‘’You went to her.’’ You stated as a lawyer in front of a jury. Dean furrowed.

‘’What?’’

‘’Lisa. You went to her.’’ When the arrow hit someone so damaged, it was like an animal with his teeth there that wouldn't let go. Yeah, his human soul wasn't the same brittle glass as before but it lingered in his demon self in the shape of delusion, and it was distorted by whatever he was made of, violence and darkness, and turned into something disgusting. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’Love?’’ The word burned his tongue, Dean didn’t think he had the right to ever use it again. ‘’I was a demon, Y/N. I didn’t love or feel anything. What I did--’’

‘’You didn’t do anything.’’ You interrupted, loyal as a soldier.

‘’I forced a kiss on her and wanted to bring her memories back to have sex with her. That’s disgusting and I did half of that.’’ He pointed out aggitadly, plump lips moving fast and voice deeper. ‘’It wasn’t love. Leaving her years back was love.’’

You didn’t miss how Dean didn’t even dare to say her name. ‘’So you don’t think about her? Not even once?’’

He scoffed humourless. ‘’Are you kidding me?’’

‘’I guess I should have been more like her.’’ You hugged yourself, glancing at the wall. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again, not for another woman. That wasn’t even your cicatrix to ache. 

‘’Y/N, what the fuck are you talking about?’’ The fully green eyed man raised to his feet, glancing at you with disbelief. He couldn’t face how messed up it was. ‘’I can’t believe you are jealous of what happened. I thought I was the broken one here.’’

‘’I’m not her.’’ You two shared it, the glance that only two women who were hurt by the same man could. You both understood that when he got inside you, it was like the syringe in an eutanasia. Once you were happy because you loved him, now you were scared and not so sure this was what you wanted. ‘’I’m not her and you knew it. When you became just instincts and selfish and did whatever you wanted, you didn’t come to me. You came to her.’’

‘’I hurt her.’’

The next words fly out of your mouth, as weak and totaled as you felt: ‘’Why didn’t you hurt me?’’

‘’This is the most unhealthy shit we ever went through.’’ Dean’s right. You have her expression mesmerized on your brain. Dean was the man on top of her, teaching her how to hate. How to fear. You can’t trust yourself. ‘’I can’t believe you.’’

‘’Neither can I.’’ You were so sick. How ravaged and annihilated one had to be to wish to be a demon's object of obsession? To get jealous that another woman almost died in the arms of a beast that cried his blood out once he came back to being a man and saw what he had done? ‘’I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I was there and I saw how scared of you she was, how all she wanted was to push you away and run because she was so disgusted--’’

‘’Stop.’’ He groaned, but it came out more like a whine than anything. ‘’It wasn’t me. I would never hurt Lis. I would never force her to do anything! I--’’

You gave him a sad smile. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’I love you.’’ Dean approached you, fumbling in despair to fix yet another thing his hands destroyed. If Rome was built in ruins, he was a kingdom. You pulled away before his tough hands landed on you.

‘’But you love her too.’’ The hunter stopped on his spot, unable to answer. ‘’I ruined myself for you, Dean. I can’t-- I won’t do that again. You are right. This is unhealthy. The fact that you’ve been pining for her for so long, pushing down those feelings to the point they are twisted into something so cruel and disgusting. You need help.’’ What kind of ugly you have to have inside you for a monster to love you? And, even worse, what kind of sickness you have trapped, written in your blood to want it to be spilled out in his name? ‘’You really are venom. If this is how you love, it’s scary as fuck.’’ When you loved a broken man, you were never sure if his shattered pieces would glisten or cut your hand once the light came in. Here’s your answer. His parts crawled inside you through pulled up scars, scraping your insides to make into ruins, but you never liked Rome much. You had to be better than that. ‘’Goodbye, Dean.’’

He couldn’t bring himself to go after your steps.

Once again, it’s the kind of freedom no traveler wants. When you lost it all and didn't have any person or place to cling to, when you had to leave because you were becoming the girl you swore you’d never leave, when you walked away willingly without a map.

Still, it was all you had. You’d make a good use of it. You’d be okay. No more ugly emotions or sentiments that made you unrecognizable. No more knives that cut both ways, or situations so complicated you weren’t sure where your morals could rely on.

You’d be okay, healthy, and happy.

You’d be okay.

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[nokomiss]

@deadtedkord replied to your post “I’m still up for taking fic prompts! Let me know if there’s something...”

not to pop up w angst but maybe something about either bruce or steph keeping tabs on steph's adopted baby years down the line. not getting involved just, checking in every now and again to make sure that kid is safe and happy and never has to know the pain that they do. make me CRY 2020

Okay this skirts the line of ‘not getting involved’ as steph’s baby does make an appearance but this wouldn’t leave me alone! hope you enjoy <3

*

It was a slow night in Gotham, which just… didn’t feel right to Steph. So instead of cutting her Batgirl patrol short and heading home to study for the midterm she had in two days, she hit up the comms to see if anyone else needed a hand.  

Robin and Nightwing were fine, apparently eating falafels and chatting with some stray cats after interrupting a carjacking.  Tim was off with Young Justice, Jason was with the Outlaws, Babs was doing some fairly intense cold-case research that Steph knew would end with her sneezing over some dusty police file and Cass was having a movie night with Alfred.  

Steph finally asked Bruce, knowing that he always had something going on.

Being left out of a case is fine -- they all do their own investigations, there’s nothing at all unusual about that -- but there was something about the sharpness of Bruce’s voice when he said, “You’re not needed, Batgirl,” that hit Steph the wrong way.

It had felt personal, in a way things between them hadn’t in a long while.

So Steph did what she did best: ignored the hell out of Bruce’s pettiness and showed up anyway.

Immediately she could tell that she wasn’t actually needed.  The kidnappers weren’t exactly supervillain material.  The kids were unharmed and locked in a room together.

She couldn’t figure out why Bruce had tried to keep her away.

She helped zip-tie the kidnappers, who Bruce had dealt with quickly and easily while she’d still been assessing the situation and trying to find whatever hidden threat she was meant to stay away from.

And it was Bruce that she was dealing with, she realized suddenly. There was a stiffness in his shoulders, a tightness in his jaw showing that he was uncomfortable with something, and that wasn’t a Batman trait at all.  

Only the fact that the kidnappers were still conscious -- albeit dazed -- kept her from asking what was up. 

“You can go now,” Bruce said. He still hadn’t unlocked the door the kids were behind, even though Steph knew that they’d been there for hours. 

“What? There are like five kids in there,” Steph said. “I’ll help. Kids love Batgirl.”

That strange twist of his mouth again, and then Bruce said, “Okay.”

It sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself that it was a good idea.

Steph rolled her eyes as she unlocked the door. The kids themselves were totally unharmed, and the kidnappers had clearly known what they were doing in one respect: the room was stocked in juice boxes and tablets, and the kids were for the most part calmly playing games.  They ranged between roughly four and six years old, and there were loud gasps of joy when Batgirl and Batman barged into the room.

There was no clear-cut demographic of the children -- two boys, three girls, a variety of ethnicities, though Steph noticed they all wore nice clothes, clearly no hand-me-downs, and their shoes were trendy and had clean soles.  Chosen for their parents’ wallet size instead of anything more nefarious, most likely, which made Steph relieved.  

Steph’s checking the kids over, making sure everyone’s physically and mentally good when one of the girls says, “Thank you for saving us, Batgirl!”

Steph looks at her directly for the first time and felt her heart drop.

She knew that face. She’d seen it a thousand times, she’d seen it in the pictures her mom still had hanging in the hallway from her childhood. The same eyes, the same baby-fine blonde hair, the same wide smile. Other things were different -- she couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t stop seeing the shape of her mom’s jaw, her dad’s ears, and her loser ex-boyfriend Dean’s freckles and eyebrows.  

It felt like she was frozen, like the way she felt in dreams sometimes, like the air itself had solidified and moving just took too much effort.  

She could feel Bruce’s presence behind her, heard the rumble of his voice letting the kids knew that their parents would be so proud of how brave they were being, that the bad people were going to jail, that help was on its way.

She blinked, and everything rushed back into focus. And she was still standing there, dressed as Batgirl, while the girl she’d given birth to beamed up at Batman like he was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen.

“You’re welcome,” Steph tells her daughter. 

The girl smiles and flings her arms around Steph’s waist.  Her face is pressed into Steph’s belly, just inches away from the c-section scar, and Steph rests her hand on her back, wishes that she wasn’t wearing gloves so that she could feel how warm and alive and present she was.  

It’s a moment she never thought she’d have - that she’d never really wanted to have, if she’s honest, because she knew that if she held her daughter she might never let go -- and it’s over before she knows it.  The girl lets go, hurries back to the other kids, beaming and saying, “I hugged Batgirl!” like it’s the biggest accomplishment of her life.

One look at Bruce and what she already knows is true is confirmed beyond a doubt; he’s watching her carefully, like she’s something that might break. Like she’s in danger of doing something dumb.

She shook her head lightly at him, trying to show without words that she’s not going to break, that she’s not going to try to do something stupid, that she’s-- 

That she’s happy and sad and trying very, very hard not to think about the fact that her daughter is four years old and has survived her first kidnapping.  

They lead the kids out of the room, shielding them from the kidnappers with their capes. Bruce lets her accompany her daughter, holding her hand and marveling at the way her little fingers curled perfectly into Steph’s, the way her daughter held her head high, tears unshed.  

“You are so, so brave,” Steph tells her, because she’s never going to have this chance again, and she’s wearing a mask, and her daughter is looking at her with something akin to hero-worship in her eyes. Steph remembers being little and seeing Batman and the way the thought of heroes out there making the world safer had made her feel, and it twists something inside all sharp and intense to think of her daughter feeling that when looking at Steph. “Always remember that. You’re incredible, and your parents are so lucky to have you.” Quieter, because she had the chance, and she knew better than to squander a chance -- “Your mother’s so proud of you.”

“She’s gonna be, I didn’t cry hardly at all,” the girl says, and Steph’s heart twists again, because there’s sweetness and love and pride in her expression at the thought of her mom seeing how brave she was. This is a girl who is happy, who is loved, who will have the best possible life.

Steph smiled at her as widely as she could and waved, not trusting her voice. 

Before she leaves, she sees a woman break through the line of cops and cry out, “Hope!”

Steph’s daughter runs into the woman’s arms, and just like that, the spell is broken, and she’s not Steph’s daughter anymore. She’s someone else’s daughter, a woman who is sobbing with relief that her little girl is unharmed, who is clinging her daughter so tight that the girl -- Hope, her name is Hope -- is pushing away at her, is laughing and talking a mile a minute about her ordeal, and Steph hears her voice, crystal-clear, say, “Batgirl rescued me, Momma, she said I was brave.”

Steph barely makes it out of sight -- there’s a building, two blocks over, and the roof has an abandoned, overgrown garden, and Steph likes to go there, sometimes. She’s standing in the overgrown garden and Bruce is hugging her, and she’s laughing and crying all at once. 

“Hope,” she says into Bruce’s chest, conscious of the fact that minutes before, she’d been holding her own daughter like this. “You knew that already, didn’t you?”

“You know I’ve been keeping track of her.” Bruce’s voice is gentle,  “Do you want to know anything else?”

Steph shakes her head, still pressed tight against the Batsuit -- the smell of kevlar and sweat and faintly, leather -- but then asks, terrified of the answer, “That-- she hasn’t had experiences like that before, right?”

She doesn’t even really want to know the answer, doesn’t want to know if her daughter had been doomed from the start, if her bad luck was somehow genetic, but Bruce replies. “She’s never been targeted before, no. She handled herself admirably.”

“She did, didn’t she?” Steph said, obscurely proud. She doesn’t really want to but she lets go of Bruce, steps back to sit on a wrought-iron bench.  In the daylight it would be scorching hot, but at night, the metal is cool and inviting.  

Bruce sits beside her.

“I know I shouldn’t have gone,” Steph says, because acknowledging her own fuck-ups is something she’s used to, “and I’m glad you tried to keep me away.”

“I didn’t intend for you to find out about this,” Bruce said. “I know the topic is… painful.”

Steph opened her mouth to tell Bruce he had no idea, to try to put to words the conflicting swirl of emotions-- not regret, exactly, because she knew with bone-deep certainty that she’d made the right decision to not raise her daughter, to keep her away from the wreckage that had been her life the past few years, but a more abstract feeling of sadness that the circumstances had been necessary at all in the first place. A wish of what might have been, had she been older, had she been prepared, had she not grown up the way she had.  A thought that at some point in the future, things might be different.

But then she realized that Bruce, out of everyone, actually would understand. He had children. 

“My mom told me,” Steph began, unsure as to how Bruce would take this, but knowing she had to set the words free that were bubbling up in her throat, “that kids, whether or not they were yours, are the one thing in the world guaranteed to break your heart.  Because you want so much for them, you want them to have everything that you never had, that could never possibly be, and that-- that it’s impossible. You can’t remake the world, can’t make it a kinder place. You just have to live with it. That loving a child meant pinning your heart to your sleeve, and having to suffer the consequences.”

Bruce didn’t say anything, but reached over and clasped her hand in his own. 

“I think-- I think she might have been wrong. About not being and to remake the world, because that’s what we do every night. And she was right, but… I know she didn’t want me to go through everything I had.” Looking back, she’d been a lot younger than she’d realized when she’d been pregnant. Just a few scant years older than Damian, and he was so firmly a child in her mind that it made her reconsider all those feelings she’d had at the time of being grown-up.  She hadn’t felt it at the time, but she was older now, had a world of experiences that shone a light on exactly how young she’d been when she’d gotten pregnant.

She knew that to Bruce, she likely still was a child. Right now, she didn’t feel it. 

“Like, I knew she was out in the world before,” Steph said. “But now… She’s real, in a way that she wasn’t before.”

“Her life is significantly safer than ours,” Bruce said, reassuringly. She could hear the truth of it in his voice, trusted him on this.  Then he said, “I knew you didn’t want to see her.” There was no condemnation in his voice, only understanding, but Steph felt compelled to defend herself anyway. 

“I wanted to see her so badly,” she said. She couldn’t look at Bruce, just looked at the tangle of dying plants around them, at the Gotham skyline, all soft lights and sharp edges, beyond that. “It felt like losing part of myself at first, but I knew… I knew what her life would be if I kept her. What my life would be.”  She took a deep breath. “If I’d held her, and wasn’t strong enough to let her go afterwards, I would have been condemning us both.”

Now it seemed unfathomable. She wouldn’t be Batgirl now, she knew that much. Would never have been Robin. Spoiler might have been laid to the wayside, like it had when she’d been pregnant, but she remembered how she’d longed to go out in the night even when her belly made her waddle and struggle to sit up. Likely she still would have figured out a way.

But she wouldn’t have taken the risks she had. Wouldn’t have thrown herself into things as wildly. She probably wouldn’t have died, wouldn’t have broken her mother’s heart, wouldn’t have caused all the grief she could still sometimes see in Tim and Cass’s face when it was alluded to.

Instead, she knew the path her life would have taken: trying at first to stay in school, but working long hours. Her mom being forced to babysit every spare moment, life turning into a never ending scheduling conflict. Quitting school in favor of a minimum wage paycheck and abandoning hope of becoming something greater, something more. She might have managed a nursing degree, her own mother had with an infant at home, but she’d seen that path, too. 

She wouldn’t be here, now: sitting on a rooftop with Batman, filled with a flurry of might-have-beens, having just saved a roomful of children who looked up to her with something akin to worship. Wouldn’t be worrying about a midterm in biology. 

And the woman she’d seen, the one who’d loved her daughter enough to elbow her way through a police line, wouldn’t have that. 

“She looked so loved,” Steph said.

“She has good parents,” Bruce said. “She’s taken care of. Cherished.”

“She seemed okay, and the kidnappers were jokes, but they didn’t… this isn’t going to hurt her, is it?”  Steph had been kidnapped plenty, had been involved in various criminal acts even younger, and she knew it had skewed the way she looked at the world. 

“She attends a preschool,” Bruce said. “They were meant to be going on a field trip to a farm outside of town. One of the kidnappers disguised themselves as the van driver, while the others distracted the teachers. One of the other children on board’s father is the director of a medical group, I understand that there are delays with getting treatment for the child of one of the kidnappers. She was never harmed.”

Oh. That explained the juice boxes, they loved their own child enough to do something desperate to save them.

“That kid’s going to get the treatment it needs, right?” Steph already knew the answer but asked anyway.

“They’ll get a letter from Wayne Memorial this week,” Bruce confirmed.

Steph had another question, one that Bruce likely wouldn’t answer. Shouldn’t answer, but she wanted confirmation. “Did… Does it feel different, with Damian, from the others?”

Bruce took a minute to think, long enough that she knew he was answering her underlying question with care. “At first. The others, I chose. I brought them in, I thought it through, I knew them and wanted them in my life. Wanted to make a home for them. I didn’t choose him. And at first, if anything, it was harder.”

Steph listened. She wasn’t sure if Bruce had ever spoken of this out loud.

“But then it was like he’d always been a part of my life, just like the others, a part that was irreplaceable and unique but that I loved in the same way.” 

That settled something within her, something she hadn’t realized was bothering her. 

A long pause, then Steph broke the silence. “How do you do it?”

Bruce looked at her, waiting for clarification.

“Send your kids out there every night,” Steph said.  She could still feel the way her heart had dropped when she’d realized that her daughter was in danger, and couldn’t fathom what it would be like knowing her child was out trying to punch supervillains in the face. “Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Every day,” Bruce said. “Every night.”

She wondered if he was thinking about Jason’s death, about all the close calls. About how Damian flung himself into danger so recklessly, like he still believed he was invincible. The way all kids thought they were invincible. About Dick, Tim, Cass. About all of his children, choosing the fight over safety every time.

 She wondered if he was thinking about her in Leslie’s clinic, clutching his hand and dying.

Bruce continued, looking down at their currently clasped hands. “I have faith in their ability to keep themselves as safe as possible. I train them as best I can, make sure they have the best equipment. Try to always know where they are, in case I can help. But mostly… your mother was right. Having kids is putting a piece of yourself out in the world and not knowing if it’s safe or not, and being grateful for every day that it is.”

He’d been careful with his words, never said you, but Steph could feel the weight of a small fortune’s worth of equipment and technology in her suit, in her belt. The communicators that shared her location. 

The way he’d tried to protect her by trying to keep her away tonight, so that she wouldn’t have to face this complicated churn of emotions.

She rested her head on his shoulder and mumbled, “Thank you. For everything.”

She felt him shift, and the slightest hint of pressure as he pressed a kiss into the top of her cowl.  

“There’s a file, if you want to know more about her.”

She’d known that, from the moment she’d made him promise to keep her baby safe.  She knew Bruce didn’t do half-measures, that he took each promise he made as a lifelong commitment.  She’d known that, and she’d never consciously thought about it, because it was too much. “No, I think-- I think I saw enough.”

She’d seen a child deeply loved, a child that was brave and beautiful and bright.  That flung herself at heroes, safe in the knowledge that they were only there to help.

She’d seen all she needed to know that her daughter was living the life she’d hoped to have herself as a child. That she was living the life that Steph had hoped for when she’d signed those papers.  

That this was one glorious instance of one of her choices going exactly right.

[softpunks]

we can fly / jason todd-centric / 3.8k / for jason todd birthday week

“I told you this was stupid.” Jason tells Dick.

“Shut up.” says Dick miserably.

Damian glances at him. “You look stupid, Todd.”

Jason sniffles. “You think I don’t know that?”

AKA: 16 prompts for jason todd’s birthday. 

read it either on the ao3 link above or keep reading

i. — first

The stars are dazzling from this view. This is Jason’s first thought. 

Tim, who is the sibling that ends up riding the ferris wheel with Jason since the only one really willing to ride with Damian is Dick, notices the look of amazement on the older’s face. “Have you ever been here before?” he asks. 

“No.” Jason admits. Entering cost money, and though it was relatively easy to sneak in, it was a bit disheartening to see families and friends enjoy themselves and carelessly spend their pocket change on snacks and games when you were a hungry orphan who didn’t have any of those. Back then, Jason would make sure to not even look twice at the rides, because that would only sour his mood more. “Not if you count loitering outside.” 

“So this is your first time.”

Jason can’t help but bristle, even though Tim doesn’t mean anything bad with his comment. He’s just stating a fact. “So?”

They’re here for Damian, really, because Dick said he lacked a proper childhood — they all did, to some extent, but somehow, none of them turned out as aloof and arrogant as Damian, so — and didn’t know anything about the joy of carnivals and theme parks. From there, it isn’t difficult to see Dick’s logic: exposing Damian to relatively happy things should make Damian a happy kid. 

(Jason did not have to be as smart as Tim or Barbara to know this way of thinking was entirely bullshit, but he also didn’t have the heart to argue with Dick.)

Jason’s never actually been to a carnival or theme park either, since he never thought it was a big enough deal to ask Bruce to visit these places back in the early stages of being his ward and being a lot more childlike and demanding. But he hadn’t wanted the entire visit to be about him because that meant he cared about those kinds of things— and he didn’t, it was just something interesting — so he didn’t say anything. Still, with Damian currently not in the picture and generally not for Jason to worry about, he could pretend like the night at the carnival was meant for him and enjoy it to the fullest, admiring the new sights and experiences with the wonder he could never afford as a kid. 

Tim just shrugs, unaffected by Jason’s attitude. “It’s nice, right.” 

“Sure.” Jason says flippantly, leaning back and crossing his arms. He doesn’t want to admit Tim’s right, and that it’s more than just nice. It’s goddamn beautiful. He’s seen the sky from rooftops when he’d patrol, so it’s definitely not the matter of height, but seeing it from here still feels a lot different. Jason can’t exactly describe it, but he’d like to think that it’s because it’s not often they have times like these, where they get to act like normal people and appreciate the mundane things in their lives when so much other outworldly things occur. Like a reminder that this is why Jason fights crime, besides looking after and protecting those who can’t save themselves. To have moments like these that they can enjoy to the fullest because they’re safe and they’re alive. 

“We’ll come back here.” Tim continues, like a promise even though Jason hadn’t even asked. “We’ll take Bruce with us, next time. And Alfred.”

“Like I care if Bruce is with us.” Jason replies, but it’s half-hearted, because he’s still staring at the bright-lit sky. 

From the side, Tim smiles fondly at his older brother. 

ii. — healing

“Meditation,” starts Talia. “Is an essential part of the healing process.”

“But I’m fully healed, you know.” Jason whines. “I don’t need this kind of crap.”

Talia glances at him sharply and kicks him firmly at his side. Jason yowls in pain and cradles his abdomen. “What was that for?” he demands. “I’m injured!”

“Hmph,” Talia huffs. “I thought you said you were already healed.” Jason just pouts. Talia does not look amused. “This is healing for your mental state. Not your physical one.”

“Whatever.” he grumbles, because it isn’t as if he has brain damage anymore. But Talia clearly isn’t going to budge, and he doesn’t think they’re getting out of this strange zen-like garden in the middle of nowhere anytime soon unless he follows her. 

She closes her eyes and returns to her earlier pose. “Now, let’s continue.”

iii. — unconventional

It's a loose but also the most accurate term they have for it— for their relationship that involves Renee Montoya occasionally running into this Crime Alley kid she caught one night trying to steal Batman's tires. She has the savings to take him in as her own and provide for him, and considers doing it by the fifth time they've met and got to know him better, but every time she'd offer, he'd take off, like the thought of trusting his life to an adult's hands scares him more than anything. Regardless, he always comes back to their meeting place at Gotham Park every Sunday evening. Renee is disappointed, but as Kate constantly reminds her, being a cop doesn't mean you can save everyone, and just because people may need saving doesn't mean they necessarily want it. 

"He's a kid." Renee argues. "Like, ten."

"Then maybe he's testing how long you'll be willing to stick around with him and keep that offer." Kate says. "Maybe he'll come to you when he's ready."

Renee listens to her girlfriend and waits, but that time never comes. It doesn't mean they stop their weekly run-ins, or that she doesn't give him anymore life advice when he voices out his problems. It doesn't mean she retracts her offer because it's been years or she stops paying for his school supplies when he finally admits to her that he decided to go to school so he could get a job and get out of the slums. It just means he isn't officially hers to keep and call her own kid. 

But when he wears her brown leather jacket and says he looks just like her, it feels a lot like that anyway, and she can live with that. 

iv. — open

“I can’t open it.” Damian admits sullenly. The unintentional pout on his face makes Dick coo and Tim look away because it looks embarrassing. It makes Damian angry, of course, but there are currently more important matters to deal with.

Jason simply laughs loudly, clearly amused, takes the jar from Damian’s hands, and twists it open easily. 

v. — grip

Alfred’s grip is so tight on Jason’s clothes that it's enough to rip his worn-out but well-loved clothes off and tear through them with ease. He almost thinks that the butler is angry, for whatever reason, but when Alfred looks up, there is nothing but pride and sorrow in his eyes. 

“How you’ve grown, Master Jason.” he says. “It was as if it was only yesterday when Master Bruce took you home and said you were going to be staying with us.”

Jason’s gaze can’t help but soften. It’s just college, but somehow, Alfred makes it sound like it’s so much more than just that. “I promise I’ll visit.”

Alfred nods before reluctantly letting him go. “I should hope so. As much as Master Duke tries, he’s not as good at helping around in the kitchen as you are.”

“I’ll tell him you said that, you know.” Jason teases. “You’ll break his heart.”

“Just as you’re breaking mine?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.” he says, but the reprimand is half-hearted. He beams at the butler. “I’ll be going now. Take care, okay?”

“You too, Master Jason.” 

vi. — siblings

He grew up an only child, so he doesn't know exactly what siblings are supposed to be like. The headlines have said they were always a strange bunch, and given their respective secrets, Jason is inclined to agree. 

Still, he takes his biweekly trip to the Manor and sees Damian angrily chasing Stephanie down with a water hose around the garden, both their faces and clothes dirty with paint. Dick and Cass are sitting right outside the porch, eating popcorn as they watch the entire scene unfold like they're viewing the best movie of the year; Duke can be seen through the window, looking mildly exasperated as Alfred beckons him with a gesture to focus on whatever task they're doing inside the house. 

Tim opens the front door and steps out with a tablet in one hand and a mug likely full of coffee in the other. He looks down at Dick and Cass before gazing straight ahead, where Stephanie and Damian have finally stopped running and have resulted to downright wrestling in front of everyone. "I don't want to know." He says loudly, immediately retreating back into the Manor when he sees the mess outside. Cass and Dick share a look before going back to Steph and Damian. 

Jason may not know what siblings are supposed to be like, but these are what his are like. And though the press may call them strange, this is probably the most normal Jason's ever going to get.

vii. — resurrection

Resurrection is a fickle thing. Or maybe that's just because there are only a few ways to go about it. When Jason died, Bruce mourned him terribly, but never thought about bringing him back. The same way he never thought of bringing his parents back.

Somehow, Jason returned anyway. In the end, Bruce realizes that it's pointless to sweat the details of it— or at least, too much of it — because all that matters is that his son is alive, and he's okay. Sort of. 

But resurrection doesn't solve everything. Not their strained relationship because he refuses to kill the Joker, not those moments when Jason would just shut down without warning and wouldn't respond to anything until he's taken back to his old room in the Manor and looked after by Alfred for a night or two, because Jason's always been attached to him. 

Not the white paper with the doctor's signature that confirms that his son only has five months to live. 

Jason isn't dead— not yet, anyway, but Bruce mourns like already is, and it drives their entire family insane. He wants to leave to find a cure, because for someone as pragmatic as he is, he's also always been good at denial.

"Don't." Dick says, gripping him hard on the shoulder. "Jay doesn't need a Batman right now; he needs a Bruce. He needs his father. You might as well start acting like one now."

Bruce relents. He sits by Jason's bedside and reads him lines from his favorite classical books — the original copies he used to treasure before Ethiopia, because Alfred and Bruce both value sentimentality — as if Jason was still a kid and needed bedtime stories to go to sleep. 

One night, Jason, who pretends not to be bedridden most days because he's always been a proud boy, stops him mid-reading. "You know," he says. "Moments like this make me glad I came back." 

And you'll stay. Bruce wants to say, because the only time he'll ever let himself be naively hopeful is when it's for the sake of his children. Resurrection may not solve everything, but at least it gave him this. 

Instead of talking, Bruce reaches out and holds Jason's hand. 

viii. — protect

“Why the hell are you protecting me?” Tim snaps, and Jason would’ve taken the venom in the younger’s voice a lot more seriously if not for the fact that he was clutching onto his bleeding harm and sprawled on the floor like a wounded animal. “I thought you hated me!”

“That was yesterday.” Jason replies easily, surveying their surroundings. They’re surrounded by around twenty men, but he can take them. “I’m in a better mood now.”

ix. — touch

Though Dick is the most physically affectionate one, Cass communicates with people through touch. Jason is naturally averse to that sort of thing, growing up in Crime Alley where it meant that being touched meant you were in trouble, but she’s his first sister, and he has an undeniable soft spot for her the way the rest of them do. So when she pulls him back to ask something because she’s always spoken softly and doesn’t plan on changing that, he lets her; when she pats him on the head like she’s the older sister even though he’s pretty sure they’re around the same age, he doesn’t protest. 

When she wants a hug, he lets himself melt into her embrace supposedly more for her sake, but actually for his own too. Dick will definitely throw a tantrum later on, but right now, he’s too busy enjoying the warmth only Cass can give. 

x. — another

“Another one for the boy right here.” the man tells the bartender. Jason smiles sweetly at the tattooed woman before turning to the man beside him. Though the forty year old is dressed plainly, there are hints of his wealth scattered around him in the most subtle of ways— the Rolex watch, the gold ring, the manicured nails, the neat way his hair is pressed back, the glasses Jason recognizes to be around triple the price of Tim’s. 

Jason shifts in his seat, thankful he’s already used to wearing fishnets and tight clothing. He hates these kinds of gigs, but it’s what puts money on the table, and Dick says that the deadline for the payment for Damian’s tuition is next week. The cash Jason can nab from this guy should be enough to cover the expenses for that, so Dick’s bodyguard job can pay for their rent instead. 

“Thanks.” Jason says gratefully, when the lady returns and gives him his drink. It burns his throat and he doesn’t like the feeling, but he knows he’ll need this to get through the night. Even if he has to deal with Dick’s incessant scolding because alcohol is a bad vice they can’t afford.

(“Where’d you get all this?” Tim asks later on, eyes wide as he stares at the wads of cash Jason dumps on the dining table the next morning. Damian already left for school, Dick accompanying him as always even though Damian is perfectly capable of going on his own by now. Cass hasn’t left her room, knocked out from returning just a few hours ago from her job at the gym. 

“Oh, you know,” Jason shuts the cupboard with the cereal box in his hand. “I got another job.”)

xi. — hour

It takes an hour of radio silence before Jason grows concerned. “You’ve been gone for quite a while, red.” he says through the comm. “You sure you’re alright? Your boyfriend will never forgive me if I let something bad happen to you.”

“Relax.” Barbara finally says after a few moments, and Jason crushes down the urge to let out a sigh of relief. “I didn’t know you were such a worrywart.”

Immediately, he scowls, even if she can’t see it. “Fuck you. Am not.”

Barbara laughs, but it’s immediately cut off by Bruce’s stern voice leaking through their earpieces. “Break it off, you two. We have a mission to complete.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Jason and Barbara chime in unison, though they’re both snickering.

xii. — time

There isn’t enough time, he thinks, as he stares at the bomb going down second by second in the horror. The doors won’t open, and he hears his mother sobbing. He wishes he had the voice to scream, to comfort her, sit back and make the most out of these last moments he has thinking of all the goodbyes he hadn’t said and all the things he shouldn’t have done. 

But the only thing circling in his head is, there isn’t enough time. There isn’t enough time. 

Bruce might not make it in time. 

xiii. — morning

Jason’s favorite time of day has always been the morning, because it reminds him of the times when he’d catch his mother whistling a happy tune as she waters the plants in their tiny backyard, of his father listening to the radio on the kitchen counter. Eventually, Jason learned to appreciate it for the smell of Tim’s coffee drifting from the dining area to the hallways, the careless padding of Bruce’s footsteps when he’s just woken up and is too groggy to be conscious of his loud movements; the way Dick decides to do his morning stretches right outside the kitchen and how Damian carries around all his pets’ food and meticulously puts them into their respective bowls, while Cass urges Duke to go on a morning jog around the garden before settling down for food. 

Besides, Alfred always cooks breakfast best when there’s someone awake enough to enjoy it, and maybe that’s why he likes mornings the most. 

xiv. — believe

“There is no way the brat is going to believe this.” Jason states, giving Dick a dirty look. “He’s been trained by the League of Assassins and by Bruce.”

“Oh, c’mon, little wing! Damian’s eleven. Kids like those believe anything!” Dick insists. Jason helplessly shoots Tim a look. 

Tim shrugs. “This was Dick’s idea, not mine.”

“Yeah, clearly, because no one would think of something this ridiculous.” Jason rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you do it? You’re the one who actually gives a shit about that kid.”

“He’s right.” Tim agrees, voice slowly fading as he leaves the cave, not wanting to be involved with Dick’s plan anymore. 

Dick crosses his arms. “Because Damian already thinks I’m the jolly guy himself. I need him to believe we’re two different people, so I definitely can’t be in the costume.” The thing is, Jason doesn’t even have the build needed to pull this kind of shit off. Not to mention that it’s, well, stupid. “If you do this, it’ll totally make up for you trying to kill Damian before.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t he be giving me that kind of forgiveness instead of you?” But Dick is pulling the biggest puppy dog eyes he’s ever mustered in his entire life, and while Jason really wouldn’t fall for that, the sight is disgusting enough to make him relent, so it probably doesn’t matter. “Fine. But I don’t owe any of you jackshit for the rest of my life.” 

“You don’t even give us presents!”

—

The plan to make Damian believe in Santa Claus fails spectacularly, of course. Even if Jason did put on the fake belly, he just doesn’t have the Santa Claus vibe, despite having the bulky build for it — because of the muscles, not the fat; Jason will skewer anyone without hesitation if anyone tries insulting him — and Damian is too pessimistic to believe in an old man who loves children with the ability to tell whether they’ve been good or bad and sneak into their houses to give them presents. Damian would rather much stick to his belief that Dick leaves him anonymous gifts under the Christmas tree that somehow always end up being the best things he’s ever gotten. 

“Santa Claus sounds like a pedophile, Grayson.” Damian says. “Why would anyone want to believe in someone as vile as that?”

Jason has to hand it to the kid; he easily beats Jason in ruining any situation. Dick unconsciously flinches, while Tim looks like he has to agree with Damian’s point, no matter how much he also looks like doing so would result in him vomiting in the bathroom. Cass and Duke are ignoring the entire exchange, mostly for Jason’s sake, since he’s still dressed in the ridiculous Santa Claus getup, and way more focused on opening their own presents despite how Bruce told them to wait until tomorrow. 

“I told you this was stupid.” Jason tells Dick. 

“Shut up.” says Dick miserably. 

Damian glances at him. “You look stupid, Todd.”

Jason sniffles. “You think I don’t know that?” He shrugs off the thick red coat before setting the pointed hat on top of Dick’s head and sauntering off. “Christmas is a capitalist movement anyway. You shouldn’t follow it.”

“Jay!” Dick protests. 

Jason says that, but on Christmas Day itself, there’s a gift for each of them under the tree.

(“I thought you didn’t believe in Christmas.” Damian points out after Christmas dinner. 

“Well, I don’t believe that middle-aged men who live in basements and dress in all black can actually save people, but here we are anyway.” is Jason’s only reply to that.)

xv. — over

Jason has nights when he forgets it's already over—the warehouse, the crowbar, the laughter, the bomb — because there will be times when it's the only thing that runs through his head when he dreams. It's likely Fate's design that the nightmares are always at their most frequent whenever the anniversary of his death inches near, so Jason makes it a point to never sleep during that week. Or at least make himself tired enough to just black out so he can't dream. 

"You look like you could use a drink," Roy comments, turning to him and handing him a bottle. "It's on the house."

Jason snorts. "Your boss is gonna kill you for this." 

"Eh." Roy shrugs. "Figured we deserved it. Yesterday's mission was a shitstorm." Jason can't help but hum in agreement to that.

"Well," Roy pours the both of them and glass and raises one in a faux-toast. "At least it's over, right?"

"Yeah," Jason says quietly, glancing at the clock. A few minutes to midnight, and then it'll be the day of his death. The tick of the clock faintly reminds him of the tick of the time bomb, but there is no awaiting explosion here and no death lurking the halls in the quietness of this bar in Star City. Jason's safe and alive. "It's over."

xvi. — robin

"That's a stupid name." Jason states, eyeing the uniform in his hands with distaste. "Robin?"

"It's what Dick chose to use." Bruce simply says. Jason can't help but frown. He doesn't really like it when Bruce talks about Dick, even though he is the first son, because Bruce always tries to hide how sad he really is at the thought of Dick and fails at it. Jason doesn't really understand, not when he's here, the new son, but despite the look on Dick's face when Bruce introduced him to Jason that screamed replacement, he isn't that, really. Or rather, he can't be. Dick is the golden circus boy with jolly laughter; Jason is the dirty street rat with good survival instincts. They're different, so of course things won't be the same. Or at least the same that Bruce unconsciously wants. But that doesn't mean Jason won't make it worthwhile. For both him and Bruce. "You could always pick a new one, if you want."

"Nah." Jason says. Bruce looks at him, and there's a newfound determination in his eyes. "I'll keep it."

"Yeah?" Bruce raises an eyebrow. "What changed your mind?"

"I'm gonna be the better Robin." Jason declares confidently, grinning up at Bruce. "I'll be so good you'll stop moping about the first one. Just you wait."

[punkscowardschampions]

Jimmy & Janis

Jimmy: you left your headphones here, mate Jimmy: got 'em in my pocket if you wanna collect Jimmy: wouldn't subject you to Cass' interrogation tactics Jimmy: better off buying new, rich girl Janis: yeah, realized when I went to start this run Janis: already in Twix's bad books so can't have that, like Janis: drop in and get 'em in a few Jimmy: 💔 on the rocks already you two? Jimmy: gutted Jimmy: stay for breakfast if you want Janis: Are now, like Janis: How to explain with a look that you can't take her out 'cos you tryna be 🤐 tragic misunderstanding Janis: [pic of protein shake thing] 👍 Jimmy: did try & let her know my dad was in the mood to do you for dogknapping but Jimmy: she ain't the sharpest pup at the park Jimmy: 👍 Janis: Rude Janis: she got plenty of potential Jimmy: where? Janis: 🙄 Janis: she got as much as you in her right paw, like, don't be rude Jimmy: says you as you're then snide to me 👌 Jimmy: you know my smoothies are 💣 & so my future is set Jimmy: 🙄 Janis: gotta stand up for my girl ain't I Jimmy: 💪 Jimmy: who took her out? she best remember that 🥇 Janis: didn't know you cared 💕 Janis: can handle the competition okay Jimmy: nah, you'll be 💔 when she's only got 😍 for me Jimmy: especially 'cause I don't care, double blow 🎻 Janis: Scandalous Janis: hitting her up with the screenshots as we speak Jimmy: no secret, babe Jimmy: go on Janis: Poor bitch Janis: #youdeservebetterhun Jimmy: shoulda fought the law, Juliet Jimmy: reckon you'd have gotten pretty far with her before the take down Janis: Appreciate the faith Janis: but as I didn't even make it out the door without being #exposed Janis: idk Jimmy: Just by the 🐶 though? Janis: Nah, your Dad had to share how full of the joys he was this AM, like Jimmy: sorry Janis: ain't your fault Janis: and no big Jimmy: I invited you & he's my dad so as much as it can be, it is Jimmy: 🙄 Jimmy: just accept the apology Janis: alright Janis: might wanna tell him i'm not a prozzie though, just look like one Jimmy: did he say that? Janis: No, nah, 'course not Janis: just 👀s Jimmy: then don't be a dickhead Jimmy: he knows you're my girlfriend Janis: just joking Jimmy: funny Janis: gotta laugh Jimmy: nah Jimmy: join me in misery Janis: that bad? Jimmy: just joking Janis: 👌 Jimmy: 👍 Janis: when you working 'til today Jimmy: 3 Jimmy: why? Janis: just working out when i can drop in to get my headphones Jimmy: I can give 'em to your sister Jimmy: she drops by at lunchtime like clockwork Janis: 😑 Janis: that would require talking to her Janis: for you and me Jimmy: I was reckoning more on a shove 'em at her & run Jimmy: gotta go on my break, soz gracie Janis: good 🍀 Janis: if she can read social cues at all she ignores them Jimmy: save me then, babe Jimmy: come yourself Janis: will do Janis: not lunchtime, obviously Janis: been summoned home anyway 🙄 Jimmy: you in the shit too? Jimmy: how #goals of us, Juliet Janis: truly Janis: it's only my dad, he ain't got no balls Jimmy: @ me in some shit to demonstrate our mutual pining like Jimmy: no way I'm allowed out until my dad's home at least Janis: figured Janis: least if you're effectively grounded no one waiting on that first date like Jimmy: he can't stop me taking the sibs & dog out but probably best if you don't show up too Janis: 👍 no problem Jimmy: 👌 Jimmy: if you wanna keep it coupley, gonna have to be in work hours Janis: guess i got no excuse not to be there atm Janis: hmm Janis: i will show up at lunch, least we'll have a definite witness Janis: that'll keep 'em going Jimmy: they travel as a pack, we'll have 5 Jimmy: take some selfies, make a scene, go again. Easy, yeah? Janis: 🙄 such a fake bitch Jimmy: law of Leprechaun town Jimmy: got us in on it even Janis: least we're going for gold, what the fuck are you doing gracie Jimmy: least we know Mia's going for the throat Jimmy: god bless Janis: gonna have to go for yours Janis: don't take it personal Janis: no time for half-arsing it Jimmy: 💕 Janis: that's the #mood Jimmy: it'll piss my dad off too so sign me up Jimmy: more lasting you can make it, the better Janis: no amateur at either, babe Jimmy: 🥇 Jimmy: I remember Janis: Yeah? Janis: told ya Jimmy: you tell me a lot of things, Judith Jimmy: so chatty you Janis: 🖕 Janis: be off then Jimmy: alright Jimmy: 'til lunch my love Janis: 💘 Janis: you know the deal, have something not shit waiting for me Jimmy: I'm already there, baby 💕 Janis: 😏 dickhead Jimmy: do you want food or you just gonna snack on me like you're channeling a mia move? Janis: she's not inspiration or goals Janis: can't have her reckoning that, ever Jimmy: #thinspo Janis: 😂 Janis: get me a bacon sarnie to fuck her off Jimmy: 👍 Jimmy: nowt sexy bout that but I'll 😍 best I can Janis: how rude Janis: what you want me to order, like u got anything phallic on the menu lads Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: you'll have a straw with your smoothie, it's fine Janis: I've been forced to endure many a teeny romcom, it's fine Janis: know what to do, boy Jimmy: weren't doubting Jimmy: easy for you anyway, what am I gonna do? lick out a coffee lid suggestively? nah Janis: please do Janis: need a good laugh Jimmy: piss off Janis: still think you're cute, don't worry baby Jimmy: yeah I know Janis: shut up Jimmy: save it for when you can make me Jimmy: the audience will love that Janis: yeah expecting applause Jimmy: I'll take the hit when Mia throws her iced coffee Jimmy: workers comp Janis: Love that for her, if only you didn't take your coffee like a basic bitch, might have the desired effect Jimmy: only gonna make me look hotter, girl so tah Janis: who isn't about a wet t-shirt moment Jimmy: she helps me out loads for someone who reckons they're a #hater Janis: save your thanks for the acceptance speech Jimmy: 👌 Jimmy: not gonna thank her the way lads usually do Janis: #notliketherest is it? 😏 Jimmy: #standardsunliketherest Janis: If you say so Janis: me being your 'girlfriend' probably has 'em doubting that Jimmy: I had said it, loads Jimmy: Start listening, girl Jimmy: might stop you chatting shit for a sec Janis: Yeah yeah Janis: I heard ya Jimmy: 🙄 Janis: 🤷 Jimmy: the manager's here Jimmy: in a bit Janis: 👍 laters Jimmy: 😘 Janis: [After] Janis: [Headphone selfie] Tah Jimmy: 👍 Jimmy: [Selfie to show the general disheveled state of him after that glorious PDA] Jimmy: likewise Janis: 😳 Janis: worked though Jimmy: I didn't reckon Mia's voice could get this high Janis: Ha 😂 Janis: so pressed Jimmy: their debrief is the real show Jimmy: & you're missing it Janis: Gutted 💔 Janis: gimme the play by play Jimmy: nowt you ain't heard before I'm sure Jimmy: 🎻 & 🗡 Janis: usual then Janis: sure gracie will fill me in on how much of a bitch i am no worries 🙄 Jimmy: if she don't you didn't do enough Jimmy: you'll have to come back Janis: yeah? doubt that was her shout somehow 😏 Jimmy: let me know Janis: If you think I'm letting her dictate 'round 2 you got the wrong twin Jimmy: 💔 Janis: Yeah, be sure to tell her how gutted you are about that Janis: love to get it #confirmed Jimmy: you're alright Janis: can't say i didn't try Jimmy: nobody can Jimmy: not after that display Janis: too much? Jimmy: nah Jimmy: it was spot on Janis: 🥇 Janis: no need to come back then Jimmy: unless you wanna smack Mia Jimmy: I'd be down to see that Janis: Perv Janis: and 'course I do but her bones might legit crumble and I don't need to get sued by Daddy Jimmy: 💔 Janis: I know babe Jimmy: more gutted I can't accidentally dump this order on the lot of 'em anyway Janis: can't even be mad Janis: #thecouplethathatestogether Janis: I legit couldn't stick another second of them Jimmy: I know babe Jimmy: A lesser ego would think you were desperate to get away from me, but not this one Janis: Thank God you're you 💘 Janis: can't be dealing with stroking egos and destroying others in one Jimmy: 💕 Jimmy: Love you too Janis: when will your dad forgive you/me enough Janis: wanna see twix, like Jimmy: He doesn't get back til 6.30 Jimmy: usually later Janis: so, between the hours of 6.30-6.30, she's all mine? Janis: well, share with the kids, not a total heartless cow Jimmy: yeah Janis: good to know Jimmy: not gonna stand in the way of #truelove am I? Janis: try it Jimmy: ain't got the energy today, darling Janis: 😏 Janis: oh colour me surprised Jimmy: you shouldn't be Jimmy: you know how I slept Janis: i know Janis: he was alright though once you went in with him yeah Jimmy: after a bit Janis: 👍 good stuff Janis: consolation i didn't sleep all that good either Jimmy: like I said, join me in misery Jimmy: you should drink coffee Janis: why are you trying to ruin me Jimmy: says the girl trying to kill me by any means she can Janis: You asked for it Jimmy: 😱 Jimmy: # something relevant for me 'bout that Janis: not blaming or shaming Janis: but you can't fool me, babe Janis: #youwantit Jimmy: #busted Jimmy: 😍💕 Janis: didn't know you were arty Janis: btw Jimmy: why would you? Janis: idk, feel like i shoulda guessed Janis: #softboi Jimmy: piss off Janis: you're pretty good Jimmy: now really piss off Jimmy: 🙄 Janis: 😑 Janis: 'scuse me Janis: giving you a compliment Jimmy: save it for when you can gimme one that matters Jimmy: just doing my bit Janis: Fussy Jimmy: what? Janis: My compliment not good enough 😜 Jimmy: gimme a better one then Jimmy: 'cause that's bollocks Jimmy: it's just a doodle not even that #goals Janis: can say my standards ain't high as yours then Janis: whatever, boy Jimmy: give & you take 💔 Janis: You're prettier than you've drawn yourself Janis: happy? Jimmy: you're prettier than I've drawn you Jimmy: shit artist Janis: ugh stop Janis: 🥊 Jimmy: take the compliment, dickhead Janis: you first Jimmy: 👌 Janis: Cute Jimmy: tell me something I don't know, Jennifer Janis: Alright Janis: I wish I could come back Jimmy: why can't you? Janis: Lots of reasons Janis: they're still there, for one Jimmy: that's a point in the 'why you should' column Jimmy: don't leave me with 'em Janis: poor baby Janis: but I don't know if I can chill Jimmy: we don't chill Jimmy: so fine Janis: you gotta work Jimmy: I'm on the clock with you putting in those fake boyfriend hours Janis: but Jimmy: what? Janis: I want you Jimmy: then come back Janis: it's okay yeah Jimmy: we got interrupted last night, it's only fair we get to make up the time now Janis: it's so hard just kissing you and walking away now Jimmy: I'll be done here in a bit Jimmy: we can leave together Janis: alright Janis: they better not say shit, actually not in the mood Jimmy: I'll fake sick & you can meet me outside? Jimmy: hangover's believable Janis: where we gonna go? Jimmy: I don't know Janis: Come back to mine Jimmy: ain't there 100s of you? Janis: Yeah but rich bitch no Janis: there's places, don't worry Jimmy: alright Jimmy: but if we get interrupted again I'm fake dumping you Janis: we won't Jimmy: 👍 Jimmy: where are you now? I can meet you there depending Janis: Gym Janis: had to distract myself somehow Jimmy: like I said, trying to kill ME constantly Jimmy: you're welcome for the headphones then Janis: Like I said, gotta make sure you feel it too Jimmy: you're wearing those clothes again, aren't you? Jimmy: I'll pass the news on to Mia before I go Janis: What else was I gonna wear, like Janis: sure she'll be thrilled Janis: fill in the blanks yourself though, babes Jimmy: a ballgown for all I know Jimmy: not set foot inside a gym Janis: don't let on Janis: so not #goals Janis: who they gonna take #gymselfies with Jimmy: you Jimmy: I'm ken to your barbie, Julie, basically surplus Janis: Please, I actually workout when I'm there, not stare at boys whilst also making sure I look #fit at all times pracing on the treadmill Jimmy: I know Jimmy: I can tell Janis: so 💪 Jimmy: yeah Jimmy: you're really fit Janis: shh Jimmy: I get it, you don't wanna talk Jimmy: I'm leaving, don't worry Janis: Good Janis: I'm done with waiting and interruptions and other people Jimmy: where am I going? Jimmy: realised I don't know where you live Janis: Ugh, middle of bloody nowhere literally Janis: Easier if you dare to step in the gym and I'll come with Jimmy: could've sent a car for me, rich girl, or a 🐎 Jimmy: but alright Janis: 🙄 we don't have horses, thank God Janis: there is a donkey if you wanna be that dickhead, very Blackpool, init? right at home Janis: [gym location] literally, down the road and do a left, you'll see all the wankers in the window benches posing Jimmy: swap you for the dog, just kick them cats out & you'll be right Jimmy: gimme a sec Janis: give you 5 mins, even as a 🚬 Jimmy: tah 💕 Jimmy: that's love Janis: it's something Janis: show you when you get here Jimmy: not what I want you to show me Jimmy: but I guess Jimmy: I'll survive Janis: what do you want? Jimmy: last night didn't help you figure it out? Janis: Got some ideas Jimmy: you'll get more Jimmy: just wait 'til I get there Janis: Inspiring Janis: thought I was meant to be the #muse Jimmy: you reckon we're a team Jimmy: I remember you saying Janis: I remember lots of things you said Janis: and everything you didn't Jimmy: won't have to repeat myself then, will I? Janis: I won't be mad if you have to repeat some things Janis: just saying Jimmy: you can do some of the exact same things too, if you want Janis: I intend to Janis: and more, better Janis: had plenty of time to think now Jimmy: just how far away is your house? I need to catch up Janis: Glad you said it 😏 Janis: like 15 on the bus 🙄 but I can tell you all about it then Janis: if I whisper, like Jimmy: 🤞 our fave grandma is there Janis: 😂 Janis: down to give her a reason to really hate Jimmy: are you even goals 'til you turn a hater into a fan? Jimmy: don't think so Janis: ew don't be tryna turn old ladies on Janis: omg, are you your ex Janis: tryna let me down gently Jimmy: there never was an ex #plot twist Jimmy: Barry is my true love Janis: damn Janis: i don't need you to be my true love though barry it's alright Jimmy: stashed the baby in the back of the CG it's why I take such long breaks Jimmy: don't even 🚬 Janis: suspiciously good with kids Janis: damn wait 'til they find out the real #tea Jimmy: 😂 Janis: imma look a fool but i hope barry isn't cheating on you, hearing that cry for help now, babe, soz 💔 Jimmy: channel it into my art, don't I? 🎻🎨 Janis: you did a good job not making me look like an old man Janis: hard to resist, I'm sure Jimmy: shoulda seen my first draft Janis: 😂 Jimmy: you do look better than I can draw you though, for real Jimmy: it ain't my preferred method or whatever Janis: yeah? Jimmy: bit rude if you don't know what is 'cause you've been spending loads of time posing for it Jimmy: means I'm shit at that too Janis: huh, no Janis: that makes perfect sense Janis: you do take a good snap Janis: also why they all thirsting, casual personal photographer 🙄 oh ladies Janis: not that you ain't fit too but you know Jimmy: we all know what the real attraction is Jimmy: keep getting more #goals me Jimmy: shame I had to be in 'em or I could've taught Mia about angles and improved her story even more Jimmy: you fucked up there, mate Jimmy: should've gone with Pete and let me film it Janis: full package, babe Janis: didn't feel like a shame, trust me Janis: though your desire to make money outta me making more and more sense #starvingartist Janis: you're the one that'll have to edit out his cum face Jimmy: hang on, you can let me know what this feels like Jimmy: [dramatic gym kiss hello] Janis: Well Jimmy: unconvincing Jimmy: [kisses her again because] Janis: Jimmy Janis: if you don't stop I'll have to start something right here Jimmy: nowt you've just said is making me want to Janis: I know Janis: Why do I want you this bad, fuck Jimmy: 💔 why wouldn't you, dickhead Janis: Shh it ain't personal Jimmy: what is it then? Jimmy: you said me Janis: I meant Janis: I don't know, this ain't exactly what I do everyday Jimmy: it should be Jimmy: you're good at it Janis: you Jimmy: us maybe Jimmy: it works Janis: Yeah Janis: that's what I mean, I think Janis: it's weird but it just does Janis: really good Jimmy: Like I said, you're weird Jimmy: 'course you like it Janis: why am i weird Jimmy: 'cause you're just Jimmy: different Jimmy: from them, from what I thought you were Jimmy: I don't know Janis: i cannot believe you thought i was one of them Janis: 😂 in what world Jimmy: not your sister, the collective them of this whole town Jimmy: you're just more like someone from before Jimmy: I can't explain it alright, shut up Janis: It's alright Janis: [Kisses him] Jimmy: we gotta go Jimmy: I can't stay here doing this and not Jimmy: I can't even finish the sentence 'cause you're like Jimmy: we just need to leave Janis: Me too Janis: Come on Janis: we just need to Janis: yeah Jimmy: yeah Janis: [On bus 'cos they can't keep kissing the entire time without anything happening so reprieve] Janis: I didn't think this would happen Jimmy: why? Janis: well, you know,you were kinda a dickhead, i'm kinda a dickhead all the time Janis: this wasn't the first logical conclusion to jump to Jimmy: sort of is Jimmy: we're both dickheads Jimmy: #matchmadeinheaven Janis: 😏 when you put it in words it sounds logical Janis: grace reckoned you were using me to get to her and i knew that weren't the truth but idk Jimmy: I know what it is, you reckoned I'd be a shit kisser all big ego & worse chat Jimmy: thought you'd have to suffer through it Janis: pretty much Janis: spot on Jimmy: not the first time I've made that impression Jimmy: or proved it wrong Janis: i bet Janis: wouldn't be the first time i'd suffered through so you know Jimmy: really? Janis: 'course Janis: hasn't everyone? Jimmy: gimme names I'll put them on blast Jimmy: twitter campaign with my newly unlocked account Janis: 😂 productive Jimmy: if one is Mia especially Janis: Christ, as much as she wants to turn me so she can be vindicated in her gaybashing Janis: hell no Jimmy: her teeth could fall out & choke you Jimmy: #goals Janis: 🤢 Janis: she can't be a good lay, I don't get it Jimmy: she isn't, I can tell Jimmy: just an effortless catch Janis: yeah? guess if you ain't yourself, ideal girl Jimmy: she'll be one of those girls who just lies there Jimmy: makes you do everything & then slates you for it Janis: exactly, 'cos heaven forbid you try and chat shit back Jimmy: why is your sister friends with her? I don't get that Janis: bitches of a feather Jimmy: but when she comes in on her own she's like Jimmy: shy Jimmy: nice in a 'don't you dare look at me' way Janis: meh, she's a co-dependent Janis: always has been Jimmy: is that like a twin thing? Janis: fuck off, I don't need her Janis: see me with a Mia to chase around like a puppy? Jimmy: nah, I mean like, she needs you but you don't need her so there's Mia ready Janis: idk, maybe Janis: i think anyone can be like that, some people can't hack being alone but it probably done help that she weren't even in the womb, yeah 🙄 Jimmy: yeah Jimmy: my brother & sister need me Jimmy: it's exhausting but I can't not do it Janis: they are kids though, that's excusable, like Janis: still hardwork, no doubt Jimmy: Cass ain't much younger than me though Janis: yeah but gracie has two perfectly lovely parents and an array of brothers and sisters and various fam about, if she's that arsed, know what i mean Janis: being close makes sense when its small like you gotta Janis: she don't need to be how she is on me Jimmy: I'm being a dickhead & you're being spot on Jimmy: I just want her to settle in, you know what I mean Janis: you're alright, most people think it 'cos loads of twins are freaky joined at the hip, so that's what she reckons she wants too but tough shit, you know, didn't ask to be born with her Janis: 'course Janis: it must be shit Janis: she'll be alright, it's that age where everyone's sorta stil mates, not dead separate Janis: she can hold her own Jimmy: yeah Jimmy: least my dad timed it better for them than he did for me Janis: you know Janis: parents are cunts Janis: our older sister had to do so much for us 'til she got sick of and fucked off basically Jimmy: hang on while I tweet that wisdom & @ him Jimmy: yeah he has twitter honestly Janis: cringe Janis: probs subtweeting 'bout me this morning like 👋 Jimmy: I don't reckon he knows what he's doing on it Jimmy: just wants to tell his girlfriends how relevant he stays Janis: can't really slide into someone's fucking linked in Janis: 'less it's with a business offer Jimmy: he does like to mix business and pleasure Jimmy: many an office romance Janis: 😬 Janis: always a good idea Jimmy: I told you, keeps jobs only slightly longer than he does lasses Jimmy: it's all connected, mate Janis: effort Janis: least i can ask to move seats Janis: can't be like, sack debbie from accounts bye Jimmy: don't be trying to have me expelled when school starts Janis: alright, thought you'd be buzzin' but i'll go Janis: cba Jimmy: I wanna go 'cause its bollocks not 'cause they've told me to Jimmy: more of a fuck you to my dad that way Janis: rebel with a cause okay 😍 Jimmy: I'm just saying he'd love it if I got kicked out so he can pretend he's right about what a waste of space I am Jimmy: like I don't do everything he can't be bothered to Jimmy: 🎻🎻🎻 Janis: seriously though Janis: that's just shitty adult speak for 'do my job for me' Jimmy: 🙄 Jimmy: I keep telling him that I reckon Bobby needs to like talk to someone or some shit but nah, I'll do the work for free Jimmy: qualified fucking child therapist me Janis: duh, got that PHD done between CG and school and full-time childcare Janis: 'cos when nothing happens, or only bad does, can blame you Janis: not deal with how some of it's likely on him Janis: and sorting it fully is, what can you do, or poor Bobby Jimmy: just worry bout him all the time 👍 Jimmy: tah dad really helpful Janis: useless, all parents are Jimmy: didn't wanna sleep in my own bed or get a decent night of it anyway Jimmy: it's fine Janis: but if you complain, you're selfish, yeah? when it ain't complaining for sake of, you just want something actually done Jimmy: 🙄 Jimmy: & fucked if I wanna stay with you or have you over Jimmy: how dare I Janis: how wild, a teenage boy with urges Janis: right for him though 'cos his roof and all that Jimmy: & new house new rules Jimmy: 'cause that makes sense Janis: 🙄 Janis: only stupid people would have kids, that's my theory Janis: if you had a brain, and could be sorta in change of another human, you wouldn't want to Jimmy: @ Barry next time, babe Janis: fuck you Barry, coming for your mans too and what Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: how do you do that? Jimmy: make me laugh when everything is still shit Janis: Just my renowned personality that Janis: everyone reckons, like 😏 Jimmy: [kisses her 'cause he does reckon, sorry bus peeps] Janis: Welcome Jimmy: when I don't say it that means you don't either, dickhead Janis: soz, new to this friends malarkey, like Jimmy: #friendzoned Jimmy: 💔 Janis: shut up Janis: you need reminding of what we're about to do Jimmy: maybe Jimmy: I do need to shut up & stop throwing my emotional baggage at you, very ungoals Janis: [Kisses him for the reminder and 'cos] Janis: Not to shut you up 'cos nah Jimmy: a bit Jimmy: but its alright Janis: got plenty of baggage to throw at you should you ever wanna even that score Janis: but I ain't telling so far as the world is concerned we're both 🥇 Jimmy: It's like I said last night, I don't mind talking to you but not this second Jimmy: I just want Janis: What? Jimmy: just kiss me again Janis: [More] Jimmy: I'm not saying tah Jimmy: 👌 Janis: 😏 Janis: Glad to hear that ain't what you say after Janis: would have been a struggle to act my way over that Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: what was it you said? Very polite very un me Janis: Something like that Jimmy: I'll try & call you by the right name though Jimmy: not let any Barry's slip out Janis: 😑 please try Janis: no convincing myself I heard you wrong Janis: ego can't hack that, like 🤷 Jimmy: 🤞 Janis: 🖕 Janis: could at least give me false promises now, boy Jimmy: no fake shit Jimmy: not for this Janis: deal Jimmy: [kisses her again cos yolo bitches] Janis: that was real? Janis: shit Jimmy: or how we make deals in the north, Irish girl Jimmy: figure it out Janis: 😏 as amusing as the mental image of business bro dickheads getting off with each other literal to seal a deal is Jimmy: you're welcome Jimmy: just don't think about my dad or we've got a problem Janis: no danger Janis: safe to say the feeling's mutual too Jimmy: least you'll be long rid of me before I start to look like him Jimmy: again, welcome Janis: 👍 Janis: baz can have you back Jimmy: he'll be dead Jimmy: come on Jimmy: life expectancy of 61 up north & that's if you try Janis: 😂 whoops Janis: pine then bitch Jimmy: 💔🎻 Jimmy: black's my colour anyway so sorted Janis: mhmm, buzzin' for it, I know Janis: welcome again Janis: i really fucked your neck up didn't i [touches] Jimmy: I okayed it before & during, didn't I? Janis: okayed during is an understatement but i'll allow it Janis: save your blushes Jimmy: I didn't have the blood spare for 😳 Janis: such a waste Janis: all the times you've turned me on in public Jimmy: how many? you can round up or whatever school ain't started Janis: Let me think Janis: I don't know, every time we've met up, before you've even kissed me half the time Janis: sometimes just when we've been talking like this, you're hot Jimmy: Where are we if we stop the bus and get off right now? Jimmy: 'Cause I really want to properly turn you on now you've said that Janis: Umm no neighbourhood I know, babe Janis: we've got all afternoon Janis: patience 😘 Jimmy: I'm too northern for that Janis: Excuse for everything 😏 Jimmy: if I'm gonna be dead in 40 odd years that's the only excuse I need Janis: Cheery 😉 Janis: go on then Janis: don't waste any more time, see how turned on I am now [moves hands winkwonk] Jimmy: [saucy activities ensue like I'm surprised ruster don't appear like don't steal our thunder bitch] Janis: Jimmy Jimmy: ?? Janis: just practicing Janis: can't say it out loud right now Jimmy: practicing trying to kill me, yeah? alright Janis: you don't need no practice, clearly Jimmy: #muse remember Janis: you're good let's do this all day Jimmy: challenge accepted Jimmy: if I get cramp and can't sling a latte tomorrow, on your head Janis: what do i care, i don't drink 'em Janis: 😈 Jimmy: that's the most #goals thing you've ever said to me Jimmy: as far as my personal ones go Janis: the ones we're keeping off the 'gram Jimmy: yeah Janis: do need to think of a non-cringe way to hype up how good you are though, don't get it twisted ladies 😍 Jimmy: while you're thinking Jimmy: [keeps being a saucy bastard cos no chill] Janis: Oh my God Janis: please, I need to bite you some more Jimmy: shit, I've never heard you say please before Jimmy: real or fake Janis: too real, you got me polite as you want, come on or this bus is gonna hear my prettiest too Jimmy: 😍 Jimmy: alright Janis: you taste so Jimmy: if its anything like how you taste then I Janis: i wish we had more time i just wanna climb on top of you and Janis: but we're about 3 stops away now Jimmy: [moves her himself 'cause he's cheeky like that] Jimmy: and what? Janis: fuck me Janis: we're gonna get in trouble Jimmy: that's the plan Jimmy: I'll get in trouble for you, it don't matter Jimmy: if anyone asks I'll just say it's all fake Janis: you feel pretty real under me right now Jimmy: you feel Jimmy: I thought I liked kissing you but this is Janis: I want it all Janis: so fucking much I didn't know I could this bad Jimmy: like you said, we've got all afternoon Janis: not long enough Janis: it's a start Jimmy: warn me if you're gonna say shit like that so I can warn everyone on this bus how I'll react Janis: Not sorry Janis: only sorry it's not School time so we could bunk and have all day without feeling bad Jimmy: excuse me while I turn it into a laugh/cry 🎭 Jimmy: don't mind me everyone, rehearsing my death scene Janis: They're all impressed, can't hide it Janis: 🥇 Jimmy: impressed by you Jimmy: you look Janis: Nah only you Jimmy: take the compliment, Janis Janis: Okay Janis: as you remembered my name, like Jimmy: I said I'd try Janis: I'm impressed by your efforts too, don't worry Janis: not gonna go unrewarded Jimmy: [kisses just because] Janis: How do you do that Jimmy: what? Janis: make kissing Janis: good Jimmy: I told you, you're good at it Jimmy: I take pretend it's all me Jimmy: can't* Janis: Suppose so Janis: doesn't say much for everyone else I've kissed but maybe I was shit then Jimmy: like I said, gimme the list Jimmy: they must've been fucking it up 'cause you're Jimmy: you're just not shit Janis: thanks Janis: sorry everyone but not really, ain't that deep Jimmy: were you really surprised when we first kissed or just me Janis: No, I was like Janis: you're gonna think I'm cringe or just saying it but I didn't know it could feel like that Janis: that's why it's got me thinking on everyone else, like what the fuck lads, why were you holding out Jimmy: I get it, I didn't expect it to feel like this either Jimmy: fuck you, Barry, honestly Janis: 😂 Janis: For real Janis: like, it wasn't even 'cos I thought you'd be shit really Janis: idk Janis: weird Jimmy: I didn't think you'd be shit Jimmy: for the record Jimmy: just not into it Janis: 🤷 Oops Janis: that's what I expected and intended too, I guess, just a deal, like Janis: but Janis: just feels too good Jimmy: We've still got a deal Jimmy: only it's changed a bit Jimmy: now it includes getting to finish what I started without some dickhead interrupting me Janis: Please Jimmy: [kisses her 'cause she said please again it makes him die] Janis: [Misses stop 'cos really, has to get off at next one] Janis: That was your fault Jimmy: yours too Jimmy: I don't know the stops, girl Jimmy: you've got one job, I was doing mine Janis: Hmm well perhaps if yours wasn't distracting me you could be doing your REAL job by now 😒 Jimmy: if that's what you wanna call how you felt, go on Janis: Hush, you cannot break my concentration now Jimmy: where the fuck are we? Janis: Farm town, boyo Janis: you ever fucked in a barn before? Jimmy: how would I? Jimmy: you know where I'm from Janis: idk how adventurous your life has been Jimmy: it ain't been well travelled Jimmy: til now Janis: you're welcome for the detour Jimmy: how long 'til we're back where we need to be? Janis: Only 5 if you keep up Janis: wasn't THAT distracted, soz Jimmy: let me get some blood circulating and stop being brutal Janis: 😏 Jimmy: 👍 lets go Janis: Do your best to sneak, yeah, God knows who's about Jimmy: easy for you to say, still so quiet on that bus somehow Jimmy: like a horny mute Janis: piss off Janis: that's such an unsexy thing to call me you bastard Jimmy: calm down Jimmy: it's impressive Janis: it's just self-control Jimmy: what's it gonna take to make you lose it? Janis: Maybe you'll find out Jimmy: I will Jimmy: challenge accepted Jimmy: if it takes me longer than this afternoon, then fine Janis: you wanna do this again Janis: not this exact scenario, detour included like Jimmy: do you? Janis: you always do that Janis: answer questions with questions Janis: sly Jimmy: that still ain't an answer from you Janis: yeah Janis: i wanna Janis: i like it Jimmy: I like you Jimmy: don't be weird about it Jimmy: weirder Janis: forever a dickhead Jimmy: piss off it's a compliment, how many times Janis: 😂 okay okay Janis: i get it, you like weird Janis: i like dickheads, namely you though Jimmy: bet you love yourself, you massive dickhead Jimmy: I like you & you happen to be weird, it's not a fetish or owt Janis: do actually 💪 Janis: got my own name tattooed on my arse, like Jimmy: 📷 one for the insta then Jimmy: least it'll help me remember it Janis: That's why I got it Janis: saves a conversation Jimmy: stop making me laugh Jimmy: trying to be mad at you for making us miss our stop Janis: you know you can't be mad at this face Janis: or this arse Jimmy: [kisses her and touches the booty 'cause true] Janis: See Janis: 😍 Jimmy: alright, shut up Janis: can make me in a minute Jimmy: I can make you now Jimmy: if you're gonna keep on Janis: Back to being mute Janis: thought you wanted to hear some noise, contrary Jimmy: leave it out Janis: 🤐 Janis: ❓ Jimmy: [starts being saucy to try and get her to make noise] Janis: You know how much I like to win, yeah? Jimmy: as much as me Janis: Oh baby Janis: you wish 😏 Jimmy: I know Jimmy: [cranks his naughty behaviour up a notch which makes me lol like where even are you lads? calm down] Janis: You know I have to live 'round here, right Jimmy: you do, I don't Jimmy: you know how to make me stop Janis: Bastard Jimmy: just stop holding it in Janis: I don't know if I'll be able to stop if I do Jimmy: I don't want you to stop Jimmy: do you? Janis: No but Jimmy: you want everything, gimme this Jimmy: [more sauciness 'cause] Janis: [is loud, hopefully no one is about lol] Jimmy: Fuck Jimmy: you really were holding out on me, weren't you? Janis: It's just Janis: embarrassing Jimmy: It's just amazing Janis: No bullshitting? Jimmy: I said I wouldn't Janis: Okay good Jimmy: You're so hot Jimmy: how you look, feel, taste, sound Jimmy: I just want it Janis: You're Janis: I don't know why but I'm not gonna question it because I want you just as much Janis: More Jimmy: [more kisses] Janis: We need to keep walking Jimmy: yeah Janis: I don't want to either but I need you to fuck me so Jimmy: It's alright, I need it too Jimmy: we can do this Janis: 💪 Jimmy: 🥇

[mittensmorgul]

I was sitting there watching that episode and so sad for Sam and looking at Dean and thinking how he's doing ok just knowing Cass and his mom are alive and I literally yelled at the tv "Sam just needs a damn win!" and then wondered what a win is for Sam. Only thing that came to me was having Jack back (and the Lucifer protégé theory disproved) might be categorized as a win for Sam. Dean needs family. Sam needs something bigger then himself working in their favor. jmho

Well the early bit of the season paralleled Sam’s hope to rescue Mary against Dean’s hopelessness over Cas’s death. But now that Cas is back (beyond their wildest hopes– I mean even Sam believed he was perma-dead and that there was nothing more they could do to change that, but it hadn’t destroyed him the same way we saw it destroy Dean over the first five episodes of the season), but Sam’s ONE HOPE of finding a way to rescue Mary from the War World seems to have been lost now that Jack has disappeared and their single-minded drive to save Mary at all cost has apparently cost Kaia’s life in the process… well, that just piles a whole new level of guilt and hopelessness on to Sam.

Dean got his win, he got Cas back. Sam had been hopeful from 13.01 that the one thing they might potentially be able to get a win with was finding a way to save Mary. And with Kaia’s death and Jack’s disappearance, the tenuous thread of hope he’d been clinging to with both hands seemed to snap all at once.

At the beginning of the episode, we saw Sam NOT sleeping in. His clock turns from 5:59 to 6:00 am and he’s awake. It’s 8:22 am and he’s awake again when Dean knocks on his door to announce pancakes and he doesn’t answer, just rolls over. Finally at 10:00 Donna calls, and we don’t know if he’d been sleeping or not but he does hear the phone vibrate and answers…

NOT SLEEPING on Supernatural is pretty universally A Bad Sign. At the very beginning of s1 the fact that Sam was not sleeping well after Jess’s death was a plot point. Then the next time Sam wasn’t sleeping was when he was soulless after the end of s5 and in early s6 (aka 5:59-6:00?). Then toward the end of s8 (hey, like, around 8.22?) Sam was in a really rough way from the trials, practically burning himself from the inside out.

Then in s10 it wasn’t Sam who wasn’t sleeping, but Dean. Dean was a demon, and Sam was on a single-minded mission to save him, which drove Sam to some incredibly extreme measures. It was the sort of desperation and hopelessness driving him to horrific acts trying to save Dean that was reminiscent of Sam’s early s13 drive to save Mary.

And through the beginning of s13, we saw how much of Sam’s hopes to save Mary had been pinned to Jack and Jack’s powers being “trained” so that he might be able to purposely reopen the rift.

Sam’s words in that last BM scene in 13.11 (beautifully presented here in gif format), “Everything I’m saying is the truth. It’s our lives. And I tried to pretend it didn’t have to be, I tried to pretend we could have Mom back, and Cas, and help Jack, but we can’t.” It just sounds so Dean.

Dean in 13.03:

Patience: I talked to my Dad. He thinks I should put it away. Dad says we should just get back to normal. Maybe he’s right.Dean: He is. This life – hunting, monsters – there’s no joy in it. There’s nothing but pain, horror, and death. So if you get a chance at normal, you take it.

and

SAM: No, Dean. He’s messed up because of you. Dean, you said you’d kill him.DEAN: It wasn’t exactly like that.SAM: Then how exactly was it?DEAN: I told him the truth. See, you think you can use this freak but I know how this ends and it ends bad.

and

DEAN: Look, I know you think that you can use him as some sort of an interdimensional can-opener and that’s fine, but don’t act like you care about him! Because you only care about what he can do for you! So if you want to pretend, that’s fine! But me? I can hardly look at the kid! Because when I do all I see is everybody we’ve lost! SAM: Mom chose to take that shot at Lucifer. That is not on Jack! DEAN: And what about Cas?SAM: What about Cas?DEAN: He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!

Then we had basically all of 13.04 to underscore their feelings, leading up to:

Sam: What if you’re right? About Mom. What if she is dead, and I’m just in denial?Dean: Don’t say that.Sam: What? You’ve been wanting me to admit that since it happened.Dean: I know I have, but don’t say that. I need you to keep the faith, for both of us. ‘Cause right now, I… Right now, I don’t believe in a damn thing.

And 13.05 drives Dean to his darkest point, while Sam desperately tried everything to help Dean move past his grief:

Dean: I’m fine.Sam: No, you’re not, Dean. You said you don’t believe in anything, and – and that’s… that’s not true. That’s not you. You – you – you do believe in things. You believe in people. That’s who you are. That’s what you do. I know you’re in a dark place, and I-I just want to help.Dean: Okay. Look, I-I’ve been down this road before. I fought my way back. I will fight my way back again.

And this was shortly before Dean essentially resigned himself to his own death. 

Billie: You’ve changed. When you bargained with me just now, you could’ve asked to go back, to live.Dean: Well, I figured with you in charge, there’s no getting back for me.Billie: That doesn’t sound like the Dean Winchester I know and love. The man who has been dead so many times but it never seems to stick. Maybe you’re not that guy anymore, they guy who saves the world, the guy who always thinks he’ll win no matter what. You have changed. And you tell people it’s not a big deal. You tell people you’ll work through it but you know you won’t, you can’t and that scares the hell out of you. Or… am I wrong?Dean: What do you want me to say? Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.Billie: Don’t you?Dean: I couldn’t save Mom. I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.Billie: You really believe that. [Dean shakes his head yes] You wanna die. Dean…every notebook on this particular shelf tells a version of how you die. You specifically, heart attack, burned by a red-haired witch, stabbed by a ghoul in a graveyard, and on and on. But which ones right? That depends on you, on the choices you make.Dean: Well, I guess I made my choice. Billie: But…unfortunately none of these books say you die today.

And ALL of this is so reminiscent of Dean during s7– the Dean that Frank told to essentially suck it up, put on a smile and be professional, or don’t do it at all. And the Dean that Bobby gave the “you’re talking like one of the dead ones” speech to in 7.09. When essentially, to use s13′s opening montage song title, “Nothing Else Matters.”

Sam: You okay?Dean: No. Sam, I’m not okay. I’m pretty far from okay. You know, my whole life, I always believed that what we do was important. No matter what the cost, no matter who we lost, whether it was Dad or – or Bobby or –. And I would take the hit. But I kept on fighting because I believed that we were making the world a better place. And now Mom and Cas… And I – I don’t know. I don’t know.Sam: So now you don’t believe anymore.Dean: I just need a win. I just need a damn win.

*cue Dean’s win*

And now in 13.11, Dean even lampshades the fact that Sam had done his best to keep Dean going through most of the first half of the season:

Dean: You got up at 10 a.m. this morning. 10 a.m. You. Mr. Rise and Freakin’ Shine. And then you turn down pancakes.Sam: I wasn’t hungry.Dean: They’re pancakes. Y – Look, I know you’re in a dark place right now, okay? I mean we lost Jack and Mom is… I think about 'em, too. All the time. But you can’t let it eat you up. Now look when I was – when I was broken up, you were there for me. Well I’m here for you now. And I’m telling ya, the only way out of this is through. Now when everything goes to hell, what do we do? We put out heads down and do the work. We’ll find Jack. We’ll save Mom, we will. But right now, Donna needs our help.

The thing is, even when Dean is at his most nihilistic, he still cares about other people. He reacts differently to this sort of grief and depression than Sam does. Dean’s go-to is to “put his head down and do the work.” When “the work” is all he feels he has left (and even when he’s doing it in a blatantly self-destructive way like in 13.05, or even back in s3 after he’d sold his soul).

Dean’s “go down swinging” is blatantly different to Sam’s “it ends bad.” Their depression and grief manifests differently, because they’re different people, you know?

And right now, to quote Bobby in 7.09, Sam’s looking like he’s got a case of the Anne Sextons.

Sam needs a mission, he needs something to put his hope in. Back when he’s maintained a grim-but-hopeful outlook, or when he’s managed to maintain his drive to continue hunting in any way whatsoever, he always had a larger mission to focus on– Saving Dean from going to Hell, stopping the apocalypse, closing the gates of Hell, saving Dean from the Mark of Cain, saving the universe from the Darkness… but what’s his mission now?

All Sam’s got left is the impossible hope of finding a way to save Mary, and the one key to that door is now locked on the wrong side of it… To Sam right now, he’s lost both missions that had sustained him for the first half of s13. Dean doesn’t need him to keep hope alive for the both of them anymore because Dean got his win (confirmed to Sam in 13.06), and with Jack gone he has no hope of being able to reach Mary, either.

So what does Sam have left now?

Even Dean at his most hopeless back in 13.03 was able to put aside his own hopelessness to go help Missouri and Jody without a second thought. Again when Donna asked for their help in 13.11, Dean didn’t need to be asked twice, or even told exactly what was wrong. A friend needed him, especially a friend he considers family, he was there. No questions asked.

Sam, though… in 13.03 he pawned off Missouri’s plea for help onto Jody because he’d one-tracked his focus on gaining Jack’s help in reaching Mary. And in 13.11 Sam was putting up every excuse to back out of the case– 

Sam: This isn’t even our kind of case. And you know, with the real feds here? We should back down.Dean: You’re joking, right?Sam: We’re still fugitives.Dean: They think we’re dead.Sam: Do you really want to get on the FBI’s radar again?Dean: Okay, so what do you wanna do? Hmm? You wanna call up Donna and say, ”Hey, sorry about your niece. These kinds of things happen. Later!” and then head back to the bunker so you can mope some more?

And then after the whole speech about Dean being there for Sam now…

Sam: Okay, look. (contrite sighing) Obviously, I’m here for Donna. All right? I wanna help.Dean: I know you do. So, let’s find the son of a bitch.

And then Doug choosing to stay out of the hunting life after learning about monsters only seemed to confirm to Sam that people are better off staying far away from him and the life in general.

All of this seems to be setting Sam up for something as desperate and terrifying as Dean’s emotional nadir in 13.05, and I am Concerned™ for Sam Fucking Winchester.

[bigskydreaming]

Headcanon that when Damian starts finally referring to each of his siblings by their first names, it goes something like this:

Damian started calling Cass “Cassandra” after someone gave him the full scoop on David Cain, and he refused to further acknowledge that degenerate with any connection to his sister. If nothing else, Cassandra was a deadly fighter and a force to be reckoned with, and giving the likes of David Cain credit for her mastery of the martial arts would be a disrespect to said arts themselves, and Damian will not stand for that. 

After all, Cassandra was one of the only adversaries capable of defeating Damian himself (and might always be such), and any association with the biological father who first taught her risked even the implication of that monster being similarly capable of withstanding Damian’s fury, should they ever meet, and should Damian feel compelled to seek justice on behalf of one of his victims. 

As well, he’d heard it said that all of David Cain’s efforts in regards to his daughter were made in the name of ensuring his own legacy. And Damian knew a thing or two about over-ambitious, obsessive tyrants who would seek to build their own immortal legacy at the expense of others’ souls, and he had no use for such. 

He did not turn his back on his grandfather’s intentions and his own intended throne, simply to cater to another madman’s delusions of grandeur, or his attempt to lay a claim to Cassandra’s life merely by staking a claim upon her with his name. No, whatever else Cassandra might come to be remembered for, it would not be her connection to that reprobate, if Damian had anything to say about it.

But then, too, just calling her Wayne instead would sound absurd, since that is of course his own last name as well. And no, that does not mean he considered it at first and thus was even now, already admitting to being....ugh....familial with her ....as being family was about the most mortifying ordeal Damian could contemplate submitting to. 

(Look, it gets glossed over far too often that for most of his life, Damian’s circle of family largely consisted of his mother and a ruthless, megalomaniac immortal supervillain occupying the role that for most families, would be occupied by a “Grand-poppy.” When most people are two, said Grand-poppies are happy to settle for whatever mish-mash of syllables they can mash together. When Damian was two, he got “No. ‘The Demon’s Head.’ Try again.” The kid’s anti-family stance is fairly well-earned when he first arrives, is all I’m saying. Its not necessarily spoiled brat syndrome as opposed to “I’ve yet to hear a convincing argument for why ‘family’ is at all a good or desirable thing” syndrome.)

Damian started calling Dick “Richard” when he grudgingly realized oh no, I respect him, with the consequence of that being that he had to find some distinct form of address for him at that point, otherwise Dick would by default be lumped in with all those he didn’t respect, aka 99.9% of the rest of humanity, and what’s the point of respect without acknowledgment? 

He finally started calling him “Dick” when he eventually realized that Richard was in its own way still a form of disrespect, by insisting there was a more proper form of address for his brother other than what his brother asked to be called. His own private feelings on the matter of Dick’s name were rendered irrelevant by the blinding grin Dick gave in return the first time Damian called him such - it was after all, a name Dick insisted on only as an honorarium to his own parents. Thus, it later occurred to Damian, a refusal to consider it to be so, or otherwise ‘beneath’ someone’s use, was to some degree or another likely just a back-handed insult to his parents, in Dick’s own eyes.

Damian started calling Drake “Timothy” when he considered the way some parents of his classmates used ‘full-naming’ their child as a form of threat or warning, and it occurred to him that he could pack far more disdain into a drawled “Timothy” than even he could manage to put into “Drake.” As an added bonus, his Father was so pleased to hear him finally begin addressing his most reviled brother by his first name, as it was an honor he still only reserved for family thus far - that he also completely failed to pick up on the threats and/or insults Damian had oh so carefully also layered into and around his first several uses of Timothy for his brother.

Damian finally started calling him “Tim” when he was backed into a corner that compelled some acknowledgement of exceptional skill or expertise no one else had managed to muster, and because Damian was not in the habit of backstepping on any of his choices or decisions. Thus when such a day came to pass, and he’d already ‘used up’ the only other progression available for acknowledging Tim as having moved forward in his regard, he was left without options: the only way to acknowledge that Tim was now a worthier individual in his eyes, distinct on his merits and not just as a member of his family, was to call him “Tim.”

Only belatedly did it occur to Damian that no matter his intentions when shifting from calling his brother Drake to calling him Timothy, in doing so he had inadvertently moved him into the category reserved exclusively for family, regardless of the fact that he’d been nowhere near ready at that point to admit to such in any other way. 

In fact, it may very well have been his constant utterances of “Timothy,” a name he had once delighted in using at every possible opportunity, gloating as he sneaked his contempt for the brother in question right under his Father’s very nose....well, it only occurs to Damian much later on, that his frequent addresses in a form he only associated with family, may have actually done the very work of associating Tim with ‘family’ in his mind, to such a degree that even he was no longer capable of denying it.

Which, in light of that, makes it entirely possible, and even likely, that their Father had not missed his intended purpose in using “Timothy” at all...but rather had deemed it more strategic to make no mention of that, and play the long game instead.

Sometimes, Father’s intellect was not so much staggering as it was staggeringly obnoxious.

Damian finally started calling his second oldest brother “Jason,” not long after the whole ‘Timothy’ fiasco got underway. His logic had seemed similarly sound at the time - after all, by virtue of Jason remaining the only member of the family not being addressed by his first name, there ran the risk of singling him out as significant from his other siblings in some way, and thus implying that Damian held him in more esteem than he did the others, even Dick or Cassandra. Which was pointedly absurd, of course, but people insisted on believing absurd things all the time. Thus it only seemed prudent that he stave that assumption off and in doing so, spare himself a great deal of time and aggravation likely to otherwise be spent explaining himself.

Moreover, he happened to note on more than one occasion that both Father and Dick’s eyes were overtaken with a curiously lost or distant expression, when Damian tended to refer to “Todd” as such in their presence - Pennyworth’s as well, for that matter. It was his understanding that even before his second oldest brother’s untimely demise, he was not in the habit of referring to himself or being addressed as Jason Wayne. Still, his name was written down as Jason Todd-Wayne on all official documentation, and was even what adorned the gravestone that remained in place, for the sake of an otherwise unknowing public.

After giving the matter some thought, Damian concluded that given what had transpired, and given the dynamics often at play in their family in the here and now, there was a degree to which it might at times feel like all of that was a thing of the past, or another life entirely. After all, he wasn’t given to undoing his choices himself, nor were any of his family, but there were few ways to regard a shift from his brother being Todd-Wayne in all iterations of his name, to being just Todd....as anything but an unwriting of that name, a kind of erasure of the history of Jason Todd-Wayne and his presence as such in this house and their lives. As if none of that had ever happened, or left no witnesses to say otherwise.

And given that their family and close circle of allies tended to be the only ones aware of Jason’s true name and thus likely to refer to him as Todd in any context at all....Damian’s own tendency to address him as such were probably the most frequent and stark reminder that for all that he remained family in all but name, there was a time when that was true even in name as well. Damian tended to believe that Father would be more than gratified to see Jason claim that name a second time, or reclaim it as it were, and he hardly doubted Dick would be far behind him in joy. He suspected though that Jason assumed otherwise, and was too proud to ever ask for what he likely believed Father never would offer again. There were many assumptions in play in all of that which Damian did not believe to be remotely correct himself, but he lacked confidence that he was the right person to cast those assumptions in doubt. And as a general rule, he didn’t do things he lacked confidence towards. It set a precedent he didn’t entirely care for.

So he let it be, for the most part, knowing as Cassandra and Tim likely did as well, that those older members of their family would always be players in a kind of private tragedy none of the rest of them had roles to play in. Any great third-act revivals or changes of fate would, of necessity, take place upon the stage all of that was set upon, not come from the seats they bore audience from. 

And so Damian deigned to address his remaining brother as “Jason,” rather than “Todd.” And all things considered....that, too, was not so bad.

Of course, in due time he came to refer to Duke by his first name, even though they were not, strictly speaking, “family” in all the same senses as he and his other siblings. Nor were they assuredly likely to be, given that the older boy considered his parents to be all the family he needed or wanted by that name. Still, he lived with Damian’s family, he fought with Damian’s family, it seemed silly and illogical to address him as Damian addressed those who were not his family, since none of the latter sort spent nearly as much time around he and his family as Duke did. And he did not dislike the other boy, certainly not enough to want him to feel ostracized or unwelcome by singling him out in such a way as that, so there was no good reason to insist upon calling him “Thomas” instead, Damian figured. 

And if he maintained steadfast in addressing Oracle as “Gordon,” well, as he saw it, if she cared to be addressed as otherwise, or as part of his family, then she could easily enough make all that happen - considering the spell his oldest brother remained eternally enmeshed in. So as far as Damian was concerned, any time she were to go ahead and simply marry the sap, he would be perfectly willing to revisit the matter of her name, and address her by a different one of her choosing. Until such a point however, Gordon she was and Gordon she would remain.

All of which left Brown. Who was most emphatically not his sister, nor would she ever be, if Damian had anything to say about it - up to and past the point of directing less loathsome prospects towards Tim to perhaps consider romancing in the future instead. Nor did she live with them, or appear on such a daily a basis as Duke, and thus warrant a similar manner of address and for the same reasons as Duke. Nor did he actually like her, as he did Duke, and thus care to address her by her name as he did with Duke. Nor did he actually like Duke, or anyone really, that wasn’t his point, not that he disliked Duke, per se....

Regardless.

For all of those reasons and more, Batgirl was a plague upon his House and a scourge from which he seemed always destined to endure. As was just proven, to even think of her was to invite chaos into one’s thoughts much in the way not turning her away at the threshold was to invite chaos into one’s life, She was, however, grudgingly tenacious if nothing else, and as many varied and sundried attempts to pry her from this mortal coil had not born fruit despite all logic to the contrary, Damian was not certain that even his own attempts to pry her from his family’s lives were worth the time and expenditure of his efforts and resources.

Not that he couldn’t do it, mind you. It just seemed more trouble than it was worth.

So with all of that in mind, and forced to acknowledge (as she kept count) the distressingly high number of times she’d aided him in....surviving some mishap where he was not at his best-equipped to do so, shall we say....it fell upon him to decide upon something else to address her as. Something that would neatly avoid all the pitfalls inherent on using her first name, as he did with family, or the pitfalls likely to come from using her last name, and thus giving credence to her claims of him being -ugh, what was it she’d called him yesterday? Oh yes. "An ungrateful little garden gnome with years of pent-up road rage and yet still several years to go before he can reach the pedals that make things go vroom vroom.”

Abominable woman.

But regardless, his plight was what it was, and thus Damian had no choice but to come up with some clever workaround. And so it was that he finally happened upon “Eggplant.” Which was a patently ridiculous color, in his opinion, as befit her patently ridiculous fondness for it and insistence on it being referred to it by that name and no other. Moreover, it was a clever play upon the fact that her actual surname was the name of a color, without actually being a way to refer to her by merely her surname, and having some distinction from that. 

Also, just last week he’d made some idle comment about Kent in passing, and she’d said “Well if you like him so much, why don’t you just marry him” and then laughed in that way she had when she found herself utterly hilarious, and small creatures found a reason to flee violently with all possible haste. 

And so, with that in mind, he determined that he would call her Eggplant. And at some point in the future, while boring him and his siblings to death with pointless narration as she scrolled through the Instagram feed of some crush of hers that she’d picked as her latest obsession, and with Damian’s siblings all being too polite and brainwashed or possibly blackmailed by her to object and so just allowing her to prattle on endlessly without reprieve....Damian would then interrupt and feign surprise to hear of this new romantic interest of hers. And then when she asked what that was supposed to mean, he would deliver his coup de grace: 

“Isn’t it obvious? You like eggplant so much you might as well marry it, which I assumed you had, and thus Eggplant was now your surname. You mean to tell me its not?”

Yes, Damian was confident. Eggplant would do perfectly.

....it did not, in fact, do perfectly. In actuality, the first time he addressed her as such, she squealed, seized him bodily in a completely unwelcome hug, and hoisted him off his feet while shrieking: 

“Omg, omg, you gave me a nickname? That’s sooooo adorable! Is this your first actual nickname that you’ve given out? Omgggggg, I can’t even, I’m so honored Lil’ D! Okay, everybody has to use Dami’s nickname for me from now on, otherwise you’ll make him feel bad, and this Eggplant kicks the butts of anybody who makes the baby Dami cry! Eggplant! Is that just the cutest or what!? And it even pays homage to my favorite color too, omg its perfect!”

Names, Damian ultimately concludes, were a mistake. None of them are worth any of this time and effort, and henceforth, anyone should feel lucky if he deigns to address them as anything directly at all.

Hmph.