#I am curious why people say Tim is the best Robin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

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Satisfied, Part 43

First

~~~

For two vigilantes, they seemed to know nothing of stealth. Damian was getting dragged around by a girl pretty much half his size in a suit that looked more expensive than every house on the street combined. Marinette was wearing her Red Robin hoodie but it never dawned on her that she should pull the hood up to cover her face even when people stared at them.

So, it was no surprise that people were snapping pictures of the pair.

Her phone dinged like it usually did when she was mentioned on Twitter and she scowled as it started going off like an alarm, bringing even more attention to them. She turned her phone on silent and stuffed it back in her bag hastily, but it was too late. People had noticed them, and were now following them.

It was because of all this attention that they didn’t notice that two of the people tailing them were in familiar suits.

At least not until they were in the bad part of town which, really, isn’t the best place to be abducted.

She chanced a look back to see them and her face paled. “Damian.”

“What?” He asked, his hands in the pocket of his suit where she figured he had a few tiny weapons stashed. She tipped her head back towards them and he followed her gaze. He sighed and shook his head exasperatedly. “Man, can’t we run away from our problems in peace?”

She gave a short, somewhat bitter laugh. “Can’t we do anything in peace?”

His sigh was enough of an answer.

Their eyes fell on the people following them, who had sped up when they’d noticed them. They were definitely trying to be subtle about it, because onlookers tended to be more protective of people who looked younger, but they were steadily gaining on them.

Marinette and Damian locked eyes and gave each other a short nod.

They turned down an alley together and then broke into a sprint. They heard the people behind them curse and pick up speed.

They couldn’t just attempt to beat them up, no matter how much easier it would be. After all, they could only pass off so much fighting as just your average self-defense. No, they had to outrun them or outsmart them.

Luckily, these guys probably couldn’t injure them. Based on what she assumed happened to the people who had sprained her ankle before, they’d been given pretty strict orders to keep them healthy and safe.

A straight fight was unlikely on both sides.

Their eyes darted over the alley as they ran through, looking for an out. One of them might be able to climb on a dumpster or some trash cans to the safety of the rooftops, but the other would definitely be caught. Marinette settled for kicking over the trash cans as they passed and then running to catch up to her.

A glance back showed that it had hardly slowed them at all. Damn.

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek (a very painful thing to do while running) and then her eyes found their way to a bunch of stray cats. She tapped his arm and he looked over, only to cringe.

“I haven’t really gotten the hang of --.”

“We learn under pressure in this household! Try it!”

Damian sent her a slight glare before waving to the strays. To the henchmens’ surprise, the cats seemed to nod before darting out to go attack the henchmen. They heard their cries of pain and looked back to see the cats scratching their faces.

They flashed matching grins --.

Only to bump into a pair of henchmen at the end of the alley. Marinette bounced back and hit the ground with a curse. Damian didn’t fall beside her, mostly because the nearest henchman had grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved a needle in his neck.

Marinette groaned as a bag was forced over her head from behind. She didn’t bother to struggle. No normal person could fight off three well-trained henchmen at once. Hands bound her wrists and ankles roughly and she cringed as she was picked up.

“You know, it’s really not fair of you guys to outnumber us. It’s almost like you want to win or something,” she joked quietly.

No response. Man, why couldn’t her abductors at least have a sense of humor?

The bag was pulled off of her head and she cringed at the light beaming down on her. “You know, you guys really need to stop abducting me. Honestly, just give me a ring. I’ll be here,” she said, tipping her head back to rest against the chair.

Her eyes flickered over Harley and Poison Ivy, who were both smiling at her. Then to Riddler, who was so uninterested he was actually on the other side of the room. And finally to Penguin, who was casually scrolling through his phone.

Wait, where was Damian? Her face went pale as she looked around wildly for her partner, only to find he wasn’t present.

“Where’s…?”

“He’s safe, if that’s what you’re asking,” said Penguin, giving a vague wave of his hand.

She let herself relax a little. Sure, Penguin was liable to lie to her for his own gain, but she had nothing of value to him (or so he thought) and honestly he’d probably have more to gain from telling her that they were intending to harm him.

“Aw, so you’re worried about your little boyfriend?” Cooed Harley.

Marinette laughed and shook her head. “Ew! He’s like a brother to me! Besides, I’m already dating someone.”

Harley’s eyes widened. “And you never told me? Oh my god! Who?”

She found herself looking at her feet, red creeping across her face. “Uh… Tim.”

There was a silence as the two female Rogues looked at each other, conflicted expressions on their faces. Ah, makes sense. If both of the kids you had somehow ‘adopted’ ended up liking the same person, you’d probably be a bit conflicted as well.

Marinette pretended to shuffle awkwardly in her chair in their distraction, checking her bindings, and was annoyed to find that they were rather tight.

After the silence had stretched on too long, Marinette sighed. “Right, why am I here again?”

“Oh, yeah!” Harley snapped her fingers. “Are you going to the Wayne Gala?”

“Yeah,” she said simply. “Why?”

“Um… no reason!” Said Poison Ivy, who was shockingly bad at lying for someone who’s entire criminal career was based on seducing and killing rich assholes. “Just… thinking that maybe you should head home early!”

Marinette blinked a few times and then frowned. “Why? How early?”

“Uhhhh… curfew! You’re a kid and your parents aren’t here! You need a curfew!”

Harley sighed and shook her head with a fond smile on her face. “We’re going to do something at eleven-thirty, so please try and leave by eleven.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded slightly. What could they be doing? It was a masquerade and the reveal was at midnight, it couldn’t be something to do with the actual people there. But, if it was a simple robbery, then why would they wait until the Gala? Was it dramatic effect? Why would --?

“Great! You should get your friends out, too.”

She hesitated. “But they’re the hosts. They can’t just… leave.”

“Why not? It’s a masquerade. It’s not like anyone would know.”

Marinette had to give it to them. They had a point. “Right, fine, I’ll leave early. Is that all?”

Harley nodded and beamed as she leaned down to let her go, only to be stopped by Penguin. Everyone in the room paused and looked up, even Riddler gave a curious glance.

“No, I have one last thing to ask,” he said. He showed everyone his phone. Everyone went stiff with shock at whatever it was. Then, finally, he let her see what was so interesting.

She tried not to pale.

It was a picture from the night Robin had died. The picture was blurry, she and Robin had been in a hurry when she’d dragged him to her apartment, but it was clearly them.

She gave an awkward laugh. “That’s… not really a question, now is it?” What else could she say? Even if she thought up some brilliant lie, which was unlikely, Harley would be able to catch her out on it.

“Darlin’... do you… know who Robin is?” Asked Harley slowly, looking betrayed.

Marinette felt a guilty pang in her chest. Sure, they were criminals, but she’d become fond of them all -- excluding Joker -- over the time they’d spent together. She didn’t want them to feel sad, much less betrayed, because of her.

All she could do was stare at the ground.

“Would you tell us?” Asked Poison Ivy, kneeling down to look her in the eyes.

Marinette’s eyes flicked away from her face as quickly as possible, but it wasn’t fast enough. She bit the inside of her cheek. “I…”

Penguin pulled up a new photo, this one of her pulling Damian through the streets earlier that day. “Is Damian Robin?”

She swallowed thickly. “No.” Not anymore, at least, she thought.

There was a silence as Harley scrutinized her face. Eventually, she shook her head. “She’s telling the truth.”

“I guess that was a stretch,” admitted Penguin. “Worth a shot, though.”

“Who is it, then?” Asked Poison Ivy.

“You won’t be able to guess,” she said.

Harley gave a quiet sigh of frustration and crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s confident. We’re not getting answers from her, apparently.”

“That is because you’re asking the wrong questions,” said Riddler, crossing to their side of the room in three steps.

Marinette’s smug expression dropped. He sat down in front of her and she resisted the urge to lean away from him. She didn’t like the look in his eyes, the way he was smiling like he’d accidentally found that missing piece of his puzzle underneath the box. He pulled a deck of cards from his pocket and started shuffling them idly.

“The wrong questions?” She echoed quietly.

“Yep! Who cares who they are, because ultimately we should be asking who you are!”

Marinette frowned. “Who… who I am?”

“Of course! Why exactly do Robin and, presumably, the other bats talk to you?”

The warehouse was completely silent save for the quiet shuffling of his cards. The Rogues were looking curious now as well, and Marinette’s skin crawled. She didn’t at all like where this was going, but trying to avoid whatever he was saying would definitely lead to them being more suspicious. All she could do was accept her fate.

She gave as big a shrug as she could. “They helped me.”

“But they help a lot of people! What’s so special about a little French designer?” His hands stilled and he smiled, setting down his cards and steepling his fingers in front of his face. “Unless, of course, you’re more than a French designer.”

“So, Marinette, are you Ladybug?”

Her breath left her throat in a wheeze. She wanted to deny it, she did, but Harley was scrutinizing her face so hard that she knew that it would be useless. All she could do was hang her head.

Silence loomed over them as the news sunk in.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Penguin started laughing. Marinette’s head snapped up. She’d never heard the sound before, and now she was wishing she never had. There was something so unsettlingly… humorless about his laugh, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

The top of his umbrella pressed to the back of her neck, the razor sharp tip drawing a little bit of blood.

“Now, Ladybug, here’s how things are gonna go…”

~~~

“This is a telenovela at this point”

Shit they’re onto me

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru @spicybelladonna

#yknow just once id like to NOT improvise new plotlines on the fly #timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #maribat #satisfied #red robin #tim drake

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consumeconstantly · 4 years

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Small Buff Girl Sightings Ch. 5

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ao3

3:00AM | CoffeeVamp: bb bat update us TheOG: ^^ more info on the situation in paris

3:28AM | Demonspawn: It is difficult to obtain information on Hawkmoth. The butterflies disperse after they are cleansed, and before they land their target, they don’t show up electronically. Coffee Vamp: o how the mighty have fallen i thought u said u could best me bb boi

3:42AM | Demonspawn: I’d like to see you do better. Coffee Vamp: IS THAT A CHALLENGE Coffee Vamp: ill take u up on that gimme 24 hours and ur going down TheOG: he has had a whole month so dont be too sure of that LadyLady: would you guys SHUT UP its two and some of us have jobs to do Coffee Vamp: cmon babs u luv us dont deny it LadyLady: Don’t make me hunt you down, Tim. Coffee Vamp: oOooO proper punctuation im shaking TheOG: just shut off notifications Babs TheOG: Bruce does Jesus: i don’t think the man has checked this chat in years Coffee Vamp: wdym brucie checks the chat all the time hes just a silent lurker Coffee Vamp: he doesnt even set himself to invisible

3:57AM | Daddy is away. Coffee Vamp: im so glad i have admin privileges imagine if i didnt bruce would have a boring normal nickname like his actual name LadyLady: good lord, why am I even in this chat?? Daddy: You’re supposed to keep them under control. Coffee Vamp: SEE I TOLD U BRUCE IS A SILENT LURKER> THIS. IS. SOLID. PROOF. IN YOUR FACE TheOG: nobody said otherwise Coffee Vamp: also how are the people have you made friends Jesus: Demon spawn? Making friends? Id be less surprised if he told us he has a new fling Coffee Vamp: is j right? Got a winter fling?

4:12AM | Coffee Vamp: ur lack of a response tells us nothing TheOG: im sure he’s just adopted his usual icy persona Coffee Vamp: haha hes the bb of so many things Coffee Vamp: bb vamp bb demon spawn ice ice bb Coffee Vamp: getitt im so funny

4:36AM | Coffee Vamp: guys?

“I told you I could get her to write her number on your cup,” Marinette grins with pride.

“And I told you I didn’t want her to.” Damian scowls and kicks a pebble in his path.

“You’re still wearing the clothes I picked out for you,” she points out.

“You told me to wear it. I wore it. I’m not interested in her.”

Marinette squints at Damian, evaluates whether he’s telling the truth or not. “Huh, you really aren’t interested. I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t wear the other outfit I picked out for you-- that one would have gotten her to ask you out on the spot.”

Damian groans. “We’re going to have to find a new coffee place.”

“Or we could just come when she’s not on shift and run away like mice when we do see her?”

Damian gives her The Look.

“But they have good coffee here,” Marinette whines.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before dressing me up and sending me to my death.”

“It’s not my fault! You only have your parents to blame for your looks.”

It’s true; both of Damian’s parents are good-looking. His whole family is, actually, adopted or not. All of the good looking people he meets are talented and have a tragic life story. Which is the cause and which is the effect, Damian isn’t sure. But it holds true even in Paris. All he has to do is look at Marinette or Adrien, though he’s not a hundred percent sure where the tragedy kicks in for Marinette. Probably the time when she was at odds with Lila, but he hasn’t looked much into the situation. He can even use Lila Rossi as an example. She has even worse color coordination than Damian is, but her features are model worthy. Lila Rossi is also definitely fucked up in ways that Damian doesn’t care to explore.

The effects of Marinette’s well-placed compliments has Damian thinking about himself in a positive manner that he never has before. Bruce is always stingy with praise, and the other senior members of the Justice League of America see him as another Robin that doesn’t need praise because competency comes with the mantle. Dick and Barbara compliment him occasionally, but that’s rarer now that his place is more firmly cemented in the family. Damian doesn’t think he’s ever had someone so willing to genuinely compliment him. Marinette’s compliments extend to more than just his looks, as well. She praises his technological skills as he sets up her website and has complimented him as he helps her out with whatever altercations she inevitably comes across on the streets. If he reveals his skills as Robin, reveals himself as Damian Wayne, will he receive even more praise?

“But since we did buy you that absolute knockout of an outfit, you’re going to have to wear it eventually. So whose heart do you want to steal?”

“I don’t want a relationship,” Damian repeats. They seem like more effort than they’re worth, and he always sees couples fighting and complaining about each other. Plus, they have to make time for each other and his alter ego doesn’t allow for that, though he supposes that he isn't Robin. At least, not right now.

“You don’t need to want a relationship just to flirt with somebody. Who’s it going to be? The intern at the Louvre? My parent’s newest hire? Oooh, how about Nicolette?” Marinette’s voice takes on a more mischievous tone.

Damian will give Marinette this much: her taste in the aesthetics of people is far from bad. The intern from the Louvre is two hundred pounds of lean muscle with a devil-may-care smile and a deep, belly laugh that makes people laugh with him, but Damian and he don’t have anything in common. Her parent’s new hire is knockout gorgeous, with warm brown eyes, and definitely the kind of girl Damian would have gone for as a one night stand back in Gotham. However, he’s also 98% sure that she has a very possessive boyfriend who stops by the bakery every time she has a shift. Nicolette is considered her college’s belle, and her intense gaze paired with her surprisingly friendly demeanor might have been appealing to Damian if she weren’t ten years older than him.

“I’m not into any of them,” he says, simply.

“Then who are you into? Surely someone has caught your eye in the past month?” Marinette looks genuinely curious, but her expression shifts into horror. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I never asked your preferences, if I was being insensitive, I’m sorry, I mean I’m pan, but you absolutely don’t have to tell me, it’s your right if you’re not comfortable.”

Damian does look slightly uncomfortable now that she’s looking at him more closely. His arms are crossed over each other, across his chest, and his hair is tousled. Then, he lets out a small laugh, and Marinette melts. “It’s fine, Pigtails. All of the people you listed are attractive, but I’m not attracted to them. I’m more of a personality guy, though I can’t say that personality has stopped me from things more than dates before.”

He’s had his fair share of hook-ups and makeout sessions in the past when feeling particularly frustrated with something that wasn’t going his way, though his primary method of relief is through sparring. Short missions and one night stands go fairly well together; he doesn’t ever have to deal with people wanting long term relationships, and even if they do, he’s gone before they know it. So far, he hasn’t hooked up with anyone in Paris, but then again, he’s only been here for a month and this is a long term mission. Whatever time he’s not with Marinette or at school is dedicated to piecing together the mystery that is the Miraculous and trying to figure out Hawkmoth’s identity.

“Oh,” Marinette continues to blush.

She’s clearly too embarrassed to bring up any other topic, so Damian decides that he’ll shoot the same conversation topic back at her. Marinette is attractive, and people she meets ask for her numbers and dates often enough. She’ll accept the former if they aren’t a total creep, but she always turns down requests for dates.

“And you? Why aren’t you out there questing for love? No crushes or significant others that I need to beat off with a stick?”

This does manage to lessen her flush. She frowns, turns something over in her mind.

“No crushes right now, no. I used to have a huge crush on Adrien just a year ago. He’s such a sweet person, but we don’t see eye to eye on important matters.” And also not into sex, either. Even physical affection hits him the wrong way sometimes, which makes Marinette worry even further for his well being with Lila’s constant touches. Still, he hasn’t said anything, and Lila hasn’t done anything more than grasp his arm or shoulders every now and then, to reassure the class that yes, they are the golden couple. Marinette also suspects that he is very unwilling to talk about the whole situation in general, and it’s not as though they’re super close.

Of course she had a crush on Adrien. Damian can see it now, Marinette looking at Adrien with her big blue eyes, her lashes fluttering when she gets close to him. Stuttering when she gets embarrassed or when she gets close to him. It makes his lungs constrict, but he’s not sure why.

“As for past relationships, there’s only really Luka. We had a pretty good run, but he’s out of the country, touring. He wanted to try long distance, but I didn’t really want that. But he’s respectful-- there’s no need to beat him off with a stick or anything.”

“I’m surprised a pretty girl like you doesn’t have more suitors,” Damian says, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk as they walk towards the park.

Marinette gags. “There are some other people who have been interested, but I wouldn’t exactly consider them relationship material. If you’re going after a girl just because she looks exotic, that’s sort of nasty. I guess I’m just unlucky in love.”

“At least you’re not as bad off as Ladybug is,” Damian jokes.

She looks at him strangely. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, first there was that creepy sculptor who must have been twice her age, then there’s Chat Noir who keeps flirting with her despite her requests not to, plus all of the random love akumas. I’m not even going to talk about the hordes of guys who chase after her, trying to get a date just because she’s a superhero. It’s not even like she can kick them between the legs because she has an image to uphold and all that.” He smirks, nudges her with his arm. “I’m surprised you haven’t done that with some of your stalkers.”

“Oh. You’re right, huh. Though, I don’t think Chat Noir has actually flirted for a while now.” Chat Noir has been very subdued as of late, and it makes Ladybug worry.

Marinette feels uncomfortable with the way the conversation has shifted. How does Damian know about all of these past akuma attacks? As far as Marinette is aware, most information about anything Miraculous related is difficult to get a hold of abroad, largely because the Miraculous try to hide their existence as best they can, and partially because Mayor Bourgeois doesn’t want word to get out that he hasn’t flushed a supervillain terrorist out even though he’s had three years to do it.

“Copycat happened three years ago.” It’s a question, almost.

“I figure I might as well keep up with the heroes of Paris. I’m here and they’re interesting.” Damian figures this is as good a time as any to bring up his interest in Hawkmoth. Marinette has been nothing but helpful and she’s definitely the kind of person whose heart is in the right place. Not to mention that she’s definitely smart and seems impartial; the one time he asked her about her thoughts on the heroes, he found out that she didn’t see them as perfect. She was able to critique Ladybug in full, which seemed pretty odd considering the rest of Paris seemed to have nothing but glowing praise for the heroine. “You’ve had some awful luck with akumas yourself. Weird how Ladybug didn’t show up when you got kidnapped by Evillustrator. One of the only times she didn’t show up for an akuma.”

“And what happened to the other heroes? It’s mostly Ladybug now. She must be in an awful state with her civilian life.” He looks off to the park, occasionally flicking his attention back Marinette’s face, evaluating her expression.

She catches his eyes and he swiftly looks away, looking almost nervous. Marinette stiffens. He knows, he knows, he knows, he can’t know. But how? How does he know that she’s Ladybug? She hasn’t let anything slip around him. She's been careful not to. Everything she’s ever said about Ladybug has been brief and curt, taking on an almost angry tone.

“If you’re so interested in Parisian heroes, I’m sure you saw the press conference Ladybug and Chat Noir gave last year about why the other heroes would be showing up less often.” Marinette keeps her voice carefully neutral. She needs to play this safe. She’s probably over reacting-- she’s been on edge with Hawkmoth sending out an akuma attack nearly every single day for the past few months.

Damian shakes his head. “It didn’t seem like good reasoning. Ladybug and Chat Noir are too untrained. They haven’t beat two villains in three years. They should let someone else take over.”

Marinette has come across a good number of Ladybug and Chat Noir haters throughout her time. Those who dislike the Parisian heroes often make the exact same arguments Damian is now. That they’re not fast enough. That they should have taken down Hawkmoth and Mayura already. This is nothing new to her, though it does hurt hearing it from Damian, for some reason. She can’t even argue with most of the points he’s brought up. Going mostly solo was because of her own, selfish reasons. She really should have beaten Hawkmoth and Mayura by now.

“The only thing they have going for them right now is that they’re keeping their Miraculous out of Hawkmoth’s hands.” She pretends that the reason why Chat Noir doesn’t show up to battle is to ensure that Hawkmoth can’t get both of the Miraculous in one fell swoop. It feels hopeless to fight villain after villain without any movement forwards. Her mind wanders to the increasing frequency of akumas and smiles, sardonically. “Some people think it’s only a matter of time until Ladybug and Chat Noir lose.”

“Hawkmoth almost seems to be the better strategist.” The two of them pass store front after store front. “Do you ever wonder what they look like, under the mask? Who they are?”

Marinette stares at the concrete underneath her feet. Hawkmoth, the better strategist? Laughable, and entirely incorrect. Even the people who hate Ladybug admit that her plans almost always work out, and that her plans are second to none. Really the only person who can possibly think that Hawkmoth is a better strategist is--

She can’t think like that. Damian is her friend. He’s just curious about Paris. Her lack of sleep and increase in paranoia re making her imagine things that are impossible. Besides, Damian isn’t on her list of suspects-- he told her he’s only been here for a short time, and Hawkmoth’s Miraculous definitely has a limited range. It’s a real pity that the world of Miraculous makes concrete evidence hard to come by, otherwise, Marinette likes to think Hawkmoth would have been behind bars already.

“No,” she lies. Hawkmoth haunts her dreams and every waking hour. She spends hours and hours on theories and scouring out information and people who fit the clues she’s painstakingly pieced together. “Not really.”

Damian’s eyes are a piercing green, and for a moment, Marinette thinks she stops breathing. “Is that so? I’m really interested in who Ladybug is under the mask. I’d love the opportunity to talk to her in person, especially about her Miraculous. The powers she has are… very interesting.”

No. There’s no way that Damian can be Hawkmoth, right? This is all just her paranoia speaking. Damian is just a foreigner who is interested in super heroes. It’s no biggie. Still, she can’t shake off the idea that there’s more to Damian than meets the eye. The way he walks-- no, prowls-- commands respect. Marinette can tell that he knows how to fight, and knows how to fight well. He’s very good at finding information on people-- she sent a whole case file to her on Renee and his situation with his mother within twenty four hours of going into the precinct, complete with video evidence Marinette knows should have been impossible to procure without hacking-- and keeps up with her critiques on Ladybug and Chat Noir’s techniques like he’s watched their battles over and over again. He remembers akuma battles Marinette has half forgotten, because they happened so long ago.

She stares up at him, hands shoved in the pockets of the jacket she chose for him when they went on their wardrobe makeover. Damian is surprisingly wealthy; he purchased anything she even glanced at with passing approval. He looks straight forward, apparently waiting for some response from her. Just because Damian is her friend, doesn’t mean she can immediately expunge him from her list of suspects. So far, she has taken all of Damian’s words at face value. It didn’t matter to her that he rarely talks about his family or his life before Paris. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t brought her to his home during all of the weeks that they’ve been hanging out together. Really, Marinette just figured that he had a rocky relationship with his family, and that he may have been on the poorer side and was embarrassed to show her where he lived. But clearly. Damian is well off enough to afford brand name clothes without batting an eye. Things aren’t adding up. All of the red flags that she’s blatantly ignored start to crop up in her head.

The book on the species of butterflies that akumas are made of, tucked under his arm. The way he showed up after every single akuma attack when she rarely saw him in the area before or during it. His knowledge of the three languages that form the basis of the Miraculous Tome-- Mandarin, Arabic, and English.

If he is Hawkmoth, what sort of emotions would he be feeling right now? Some sort of euphoria, maybe, realizing that he could get infinitely closer to Ladybug when she is Marinette. Anticipation, too. Has Marinette been hanging out with a super villain for the past month? Has she really come to the point where she can call a supervillain her best friend?

Marinette takes another look at Damian’s outfit. Master Fu said that the Miraculous Hawkmoth owns is in the shape of a brooch. Marinette sees no such object on Damian, which could either mean that he’s not Hawkmoth or that he’s just been taking it off whenever he’s with her. She’s really hoping it’s not the second option.

She needs to gather her thoughts, make a plan on how to proceed. When she’s sure that Damian isn’t looking, Marinette sets off the ringtone that is saved for her Maman’s texts and calls. This catches Damian’s attention, and she waves looks up from her phone as though she’s responding.

“Maman wants me to do a delivery. If you’re looking for more information on the whole superhero situation in Paris, I can get you Alya’s number. She runs the Ladyblog-- I’m sure she’d be glad to talk with you.” Alya also has some of the worst conspiracy theories that Marinette has ever seen. She doesn’t often keep abreast of what the Ladyblog’s portrayal of Ladybug is, but back when Marinette and Alya were friends, she was subjected to wild theories that made her stomach nauseous with how little logic there was. Which means that if-- if-- Damian is actually Hawkmoth, he might be thrown off by what she says.

“I’ll see you on Monday? Jagged texted me last night and wants me to change the embroidery on his commission.” This isn’t exactly a lie; Jagged wants one of the smaller details to be changed, but it certainly won’t take as long as she’s suggesting. Marinette hopes that it’s enough of an excuse to get Damian off her back for the rest of today and tomorrow while she reevaluates her game plans and life choices.

Damian waves her off. “I don’t think that Ladyblogger girl knows anymore than I do. She’s of no help to me. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Marinette’s reaction to Damian’s questions are weird. There’s an underlying tension that she exuded before they parted ways, and he’s still thinking about it a day later.

Marinette, who he always finds near an akuma attack right after it occurs. Marinette, who is emotionally and physically superior to most other Parisians. Marinette, who hasn’t been akumatized in a class full of idiots and other victims. Marinette, who doesn’t like Ladybug even though she seems like a fairly competent and kind hero, despite the fact that she hasn’t caught Hawkmoth yet. Marinette, who rarely talks about akumas despite all of the time he spends with her, which is highly unusual because even people he only briefly meets manage to slip in something about akumas into the conversation. Damian feels like there must be some sort of connection between Marintte and the akuma situation that he’s not getting, but it’s eluding him.

He sits down with his laptop in his apartment and looks up information about Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s definitely just as talented as he suspected; in her ninth year of schooling, she won a Gabriel competition, participated in a music video of Clara Nightingale’s, and collaborated with Jagged Stone on an album cover. So that was how she met him-- he wondered, but never asked. There are also a few instagram posts that have tagged her as a good samaritan and a few articles that detail a small, asian girl who’s going around Paris helping random people that are in need.

The weird things that Damian finds are contained in her school records. She’s apparently in very good company with her IQ, but what’s more interesting is all the dates that she is tardy or absent from school. They line up perfectly with all of the dates that akumas appear. He feels dread gather in his stomach.

A few more searches seem to cement his growing suspicions. Around the same time that Marinette obtained a truce with Lila matched up with when theorists believed that the Italian girl started working with Hawkmoth. He reads the instagrams and tweets of her classmates from the first year that Hawkmoth arrived, which talk about how excellent Marinette is at calming them down and guiding them to a better place. He also reads the posts of Chloe Bourgeois and Alya Cesaire and the articles about Marinette and Evillustrator that tell a slightly different story-- that Marinette is capable of manipulating others into more unpleasant situations.

Damian jolts. There is an incoming call from his father.

“Are updates on Paris, Damian?”

Should he give them a clue to his growing suspicions that Marinette is Hawkmoth? No, he can’t tell them until he gathers more information.

“No,” he says. “Information about Hawkmoth and the Miraculous are hard to come by.”

There’s a sigh and what sounds like the rustling of papers from the other side. “I figured. Tim and Barbara can’t find anything over here, either, but the Justice League is worried. They want results.”

“The Justice League and I agreed that having Robin make an appearance would be beneficial. Gain Ladybug and Chat Noir’s trust, or find Hawkmoth. Information might come easier with your alter ego.”

“All right.”

Another pause. He and his father have always had an awkward relationship. Bruce didn’t know of his existence until he was ten, and by that time, the most formative years of Damian’s life had already passed. Bruce Wayne may be many things, but good at dealing with children, he is not. Even after adopting so many children, he doesn’t know how to raise a child. Damian and his brothers have all raised themselves, with Bruce only stepping in when one of them is really going off the rails.

“Is everything else going well in Paris? School is good?”

“School is fine.” Damian wonders whether he should tell his father about Marinette. About the girl who is kind and capable and scarily efficient at dispatching criminals for a citizen and-- he can’t think about her like that. He decides against telling his father about her. She might be Hawkmoth, after all, and confirming her existence to his father means that he’s denying that possibility. “Gotham?”

“Nothing out of the usual. A few run-ins with the Joker.”

Another silence. The lapses in conversation aren’t awkward, but Damian thinks of the playful banter Marinette has with her parents and frowns.

“Goodbye, Father.”

“Goodnight, Damian.”

Damian looks around at his empty apartment. There is nothing in it, except for his suitcase and a few pieces of furniture. It’s nothing like the manor, where he knows that Tim is up at all hours slaving away on another project that Damian rarely gets to see, or that Jason is in the training room with Dick joining him occasionally. He can’t pick a fight with Tim or have Dick try to mediate the conflicts between himself and Jason. No nightly patrols with three or four people talking over the comms, or near instantaneous backup when he gets into a tight spot. There is no Alfred or Barbara or Cassandra or Bruce here. Only Damian.

He looks down at his laptop, at the various information and images of Marinette that he has up on his screen. In good conscience, he can’t continue being friends with her. Not with the possibility that she is the person he’s trying to hunt down.

He remembers her saying that being lonely is different than being alone.

Damian is lonely.

Patrol is a necessary evil.

Ladybug doesn’t hate patrol. She’s not very fond of it, though. It cuts into time that she could be spending sleeping or designing or anything else, really. In the beginning, it started as a way to figure out how everything worked under the guise of the dark and without the constant threat of an akuma hanging over head. Then, it progressed into disproving the theory about Ladybug’s age, because civilians aren’t inclined to believe that a teenage girl who has school the next day would patrol every day in the early morning. Now, it shows the Parisians how devoted Ladybug is-- that’s something that she’s struggled with ever since withdrawing the Miraculous from all of the part time heroes-- and lets Marinette blow off any steam that she has.

Right now, Marinette needs to blow off a lot of steam. Still, even as Ladybug, as much as Marinette wants to scream to high hell and back about how she’s been friends-- very close friends, she’d dare to say-- with the same person who has been terrorizing Paris for years, she can’t. If she screams, there will be media coverage on it, and she doesn’t want to deal with what the press would write up some article about how Ladybug was overworked and needed to bring back the other heroes, or that Ladybug wasn’t mentally sound enough to take care of Paris, she should just give up the Miraculous, or that Ladybug’s scream was [insert some poetic nonsense that English teachers wax about for hours even though the author never intended the audience to read that deeply into it].

Marinette doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s gotten close to Damian. She’s as close to him as she is with Kagami, Luka, Jagged and Penny. Damian knows that she’s MDC. He knows her hopes and aspirations. He knows her family, knows the majority of her friends, and knows what’s important to her. It will be so easy for him to tear her apart now. Marinette isn’t sure what Hawkmoth is waiting for, but she almost hopes that he’ll get it over with sooner rather than later.

What will Hawkmoth do first? Go after the website that he helped her make, probably. Cut off the financial support that she could use to run away and create another identity. Then, he’ll go after her friends, few and far as they may be. Renee next. Her family, last. She wonders who Mayura is, if he is Hawkmoth. She hasn’t seen anyone that’s close to him. Then again, Damian reveals next to nothing about himself. She’s never even seen where he lives.

There’s a shadow on the rooftops.

God, of course Hawkmoth would send out an akuma today. He knows how horrible her mental state must be. There’s no way he wouldn’t take advantage of that.

She yoyos over to the shadow, not close enough to strike or apprehend, but close enough to easily give chase without the akuma being able to give her the slip.

“Ladybug,” the akuma says.

“Cut the crap. We all know you want the Miraculous, Hawkmoth. Let’s get to it.” The shadow steps forward where a street lamp illuminates its costume, and once again, she is assaulted by the barrage of colors on her eyes. After seeing how awful Damian’s color coordination was, it’s easy to come to terms with the awful designs of all of his costumes. Still, she’s surprised that the boy who dresses in the same outfit every day creates such outlandish costumes for all of his minions.

The akuma frowns, tenses.

“I’m not Hawkmoth,” it insists. “I’m Robin, a vigilante from Gotham. I’ve come to learn more about the current situation and aid you in taking Hawkmoth down.”

Ladybug scoffs. She’s not sure what this akuma’s tactic is, but none of the others have tried to lie to her so blatantly about their identity. And ripping off an identity? That is a new low, even for Hawkmoth. She’s sure that the real Robin didn’t agree to this, and if she were close with the vigilante, maybe she could get him to throw a lawsuit or two at Hawkmoth once he was in custody, just for kicks.

Robin the akuma scrambles, apparently looking for something that can verify his identity.

Ladybug strikes. There’s no pride in striking an opponent when they are distracted, but it’s a means to an end. If Damian is dumb enough to send out an akuma confused about its identity tonight of all nights-- a night where Ladybug is distressed and it would be all too easy to take advantage of her-- then she’s going to take advantage of it.

It’s easy to bind the akuma. Startlingly easy. The akuma is different tonight, then. His powers have something to do with close contact, maybe? Ladybug looks on his person for things that could be the point of akumatization, eyes flitting from Robin’s waistband to his mask.

She comes to an unpleasant conclusion. The measurements and the coloring are a perfect match. Hawkmoth has come to meet her in person.

“Damian,” Ladybug hisses.

Damian’s eyes widen, like he doesn’t know how she’s pieced together his identity. How stupid does he think she is? He’s been dropping hints constantly. Information a transfer to Paris shouldn’t know. Never telling Marinette anything personal. Always being near an akuma attack when it happens. It’s almost like he wanted her to figure out his identity.

“How did you know?”

“Please, Hawkmoth, did you really think that Marinette couldn’t connect the dots? You must have thought awfully little of her if you thought that your constant appearances near all of the akuma and questions about the Miraculous didn’t lead me to your identity.”

“Hawkmoth? Ladybug, I’m not Hawkmoth, I’m Robin.”

“And I’m the queen of England. Renounce your Miraculous now, Hawkmoth. Or I’ll beat you until you detransform and take it from you.”

Damian looks confused before his face contorts to an expression of resignation. He recognizes a cold fury in her eyes that is distinct to people who won’t give up until they get their way, and there’s really no other way around this right now. He should have brought his comm with him, but he wasn’t expecting to meet Ladybug tonight; he just wanted to assess the situation as Robin, to get out from his apartment for a second. Rookie mistake.

True to her word, Ladybug beats Damian unconscious and also until he’s black and blue. She’ll be lying if she didn’t say she took out some of her fury from the past years on him.

But here’s the thing; Damian doesn’t detransform. He stays in his god-awful costume that has the same disgusting shade of mustard yellow as that one top Damian owns. That’s not what’s supposed to happen. When Miraculous users faint, they detransform because it takes a sort of mental awareness to handle the powers bestowed upon them. Is it different because Damian is an akuma? Is there some sort of Miraculous bylaw that if a Miraculous user gets akumatized, they get to stay in their alternate form? Oh wait, that’s right, he’s an akuma, not Hawkmoth right now.

Ladybug stumbles forward, breaking all of the weapons that are on his belt, taking off his mask and breaking that as well. No akuma comes out. She tries his gloves, then his boots. She pats him down, seeing if there’s anything she missed. She rips his suit, too. Nothing. There’s no brooch in his personal effects either.

What is she supposed to do now?

Seeing no alternative, Ladybug picks Damian up and yoyos back to Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie to safely detransform and figure out what the fuck is going on.

He’s not Hawkmoth, is the conclusion Marinette comes to after a side by side comparison of pictures of the vigilante and Damian. The horrifying conclusion: the person lying on the floor of her bedroom is actually Robin, the vigilante from Gotham.

Marinette knows it’s better to err on the side of caution, but she still buries her head in her hands in embarrassment. How can she have gotten him so wrong? She really needs to get better at reading people, because deciding that random civilians are Hawkmoth clearly has not paid off.

She also cannot believe that the Justice League has decided to step in now, and with a sidekick from America, of all things--Marinette is pretty sure that she sent the videos to the European branch. It must have been three years since her first notification to them. She contacted them immediately after Stoneheart, and again, after Syren when she was distraught at the death that surrounded her. With no response, there was nothing she could do. She has to start relying on herself and her own skills.

Ladybug only contacted them once more, after Heroes’ Day. At that point, Ladybug had been thinking for a while that someone who was naturally superpowered or someone with a high grade of intelligence-- like the heroes affiliated with the Justice League-- would do more harm than good if they were allowed in the city. After the devastation of her teammates being akumatized, and the nearly week long battle that ensued, she was certain that she could barely fight her teammates, let alone trained professionals. So with shaky hands and red rimmed eyes, she said to please disregard her earlier messages; the situation in Paris wasn’t that bad, and Ladybug could handle it.

Damian groans. Marinette jumps; he is waking up far earlier than she anticipated. She wants to transform back into Ladybug. Being in her spots gives her a pseudo sense of security. First, though, she has to restrain him. Even though he isn’t Hawkmoth, she’s not sure whether he’s a threat or not. She makes quick work of it, using the thickest zip ties that she has on hand and restraining his arms and legs.

She doesn’t get the chance to transform back into Ladybug, but that’s just as well, because at the end of the day, Marinette is the foundation of anything that makes Ladybug a hero to the public. Damian opens his eyes almost immediately after she has finished restraining him, taking in his surroundings and the person in front of him.

“Marinette? Where’s Ladybug?” No questions of how he got there; Ladybug can clearly carry her own weight and more. No questions as to why there are zip ties cutting into his wrists and ankles; he has seen too many of Marinette’s victims on the streets.

“What do you mean, where’s Ladybug?” Marinette is right in front of him. She might not have the suit on, but at the end of the day, she does have the Ladybug Miraculous, which means she’s Ladybug through and through, and Damian must know that. Otherwise, there’s no real reason for Robin to be spending so much time with Marinette. The fact that she feels more real and true to herself as Marinette than as Ladybug probably means nothing to him.

“She knocked me out on a rooftop. Didn’t know that you two knew each other personally. I’m not Hawkmoth, by the way.” He twitches, then realizes that he’s been tied up. “Why’d she leave me with you?”

So he doesn’t know that she’s also Ladybug? This whole thing keeps getting more confusing. Still, the less people that know about her alter ego, the better. Marinette will keep him in the dark. She attributes his blatant misunderstanding to the identity concealment magic of the Miraculous. It’s powerful stuff. If it didn’t exist, she’s sure she would have found concrete evidence as to who Hawkmoth is by now.

“She asked me to assess whether you were a threat or not. Whether or not she casts the Miraculous Cure is contingent on my response.”

“Ladybug wants you to assess whether I’m a threat or not? Why’d she leave a possible super villain with a civilian?”

“I help Ladybug out with many things.” Her voice turns to clinical detachment. She uses this method to dissociate as Ladybug when things get overwhelming. Assess the situation. Get in, deakumatize, get out. Marinette needs to distance herself. It’s bad enough that the situation is this convoluted, but she doesn’t need Damian to doubt Ladybug’s capabilities as well. “Ladybug knows that you’re not Hawkmoth now, and she knows that I can handle myself with any run of the mill bad guy, even if they are a supposed vigilante.”

“Tell me, Robin,” Marinette spits the name like a curse, “Why should I tell Ladybug that you’re not a threat? That you are who you say you are?”

In all honesty, all Marinette wants to do is knock Damian out again so she can collect her thoughts. She’s not sure how she should address his presence as Robin in Paris and is still reeling from the whiplash of thinking he was Hawkmoth only for him to turn into a foreign vigilante. Next thing she knows, he’ll tell her that his name isn’t even Damian Grayson. Well, now that she thinks about it, he’s definitely not. After this encounter finishes, she’ll look up Damian and Gotham and see what she gets.

He looks flustered, like he never expected anybody to question his identity or presence. It’s laughable, really. Marinette doubts that the Justice League actually sent him; he’s probably here to explore on his own. That means he’ll only be a pain in the ass to deal with. Maybe she needs to get into contact with the Justice League again, if only just so she can deport Robin with more ease.

“I can call Batman,” he says.

Marinette doesn’t think this is a very good solution. There’s no way for her to prove that the person on the other side actually is Batman and not some actor. But after racking her brain, she can’t come up with a much better solution. It’s not like Robin has any superpowers that she can request to see, and she doesn’t have a direct line to anybody from the Justice League.

“Fine. Call Batman.”

“It’s in the pocket near on my right side.” Marinette doesn’t bother going closer to him. She destroyed everything on him earlier, in case it was the akuma’s vessel. Ladybug thought she came across a phone, but now she’s glad she smashed it and left it on that random rooftop. He probably has some sort of tracker on his phone. In any case, Marinette thinks it’s weird for a vigilante to have a phone on them while on the rooftops. Shouldn’t he have an earpiece or something?

“Your phone was destroyed by Ladybug. Tell me the number to call. I’ll put it on speaker.” Marinette isn’t sure if the number he’ll have her call will be some sort of secure connection or direct line that is only accessible through Damian’s phone, but she doesn’t particularly care because the Miraculous Communicators are exactly that. Miraculous. Master Fu assured her that all communications were private and impossible to crack unless they also had a Miraculous. Which is why she’s using the Miraculous Communicator to call Batman.

Damian winces, then speaks into the offered phone.

“Batman, it’s Robin. I need to verify my identity in order to proceed.”

“Are you with Ladybug?”

So he is on a mission, then, and not just playing hooky. If Batman is involved, Marinette has no doubt the rest of the Justice League will follow soon. This will be a dreadfully unpleasant call.

“I’m making it a video call,” Marinette says. “And no, he’s not with Ladybug. I’m Ladybug’s point of contact, and she doesn’t take kindly to people encroaching on her territory without permission.”

“Robin, what happened?” Batman isn’t accepting her video request.

Marinette cuts off whatever Damian is about to say. “Damian was suspicious; I reported his activities to Ladybug and she believed that he could be Hawkmoth. Then, she caught him on the roofs and took him back to my place after verifying that he wasn’t Hawkmoth. Video call, Batman. I’d like to see that you are who you say you are, before I send Robin back to the states.”

“She knows your civilian identity? Two people know that you’re Robin?”

“Turn your video on. If you can’t prove that you are who Damian says you are, Ladybug and I will do everything in our powers to deport him and make sure that the Justice League is not allowed in Paris again. Ladybug said that she doesn’t need any unknowns in her city, and I’ve been hoping Robin came here of his own volition. It sounds like that isn’t the case.”

Marinette thinks that Batman curses in English, but she’s not sure. Fluent though Marinette may be, she is not well versed in curses, colloquialisms, or American memes. The camera turns on. It’s Batman, or at the very least, an actor wearing a very good knock off costume.

It’s annoying that Marinette can’t see his eyes. There’s some white film where his eyes should be, and the fact that his cowl covers more than half of his face isn’t doing her any favors in letting her read his facial expression. She moves herself so that Batman can see both her and Robin.

“Why is Robin restrained?”

“Like I said: he was suspicious. I’m not taking any chances.”

A moment of silence.

“How do you want me to prove my identity?”

That’s good. He’s not asking who she is, though she’s sure that there are cameras pointing at the screen on Batman’s end, running facial analysis and background checks on her. The Miraculous magic will ensure that any connections between her and Ladybug will not come to light. Other than her identity as Ladybug, Marinette has nothing to hide.

“If you’re Batman, then you should have access to the League’s calls, European and otherwise. Play me the last video that Ladybug sent you. I know what she said.” She spares a glance at Damian. His jaw is tight, but when he looks at her, she finds what looks like regret. It’s not entirely Damian’s fault. A mission is a responsibility, and Marinette understands that in order to be a hero or vigilante, one must be willing to do anything to accomplish the mission. Really, she’s only Ladybug because she feels that heavy weight of the words duty and responsibility on her shoulders. Fu’s fault.

“Behave. If you try something, I’ll knock you out.” Marinette sets the communicator on her desk and eyes him. The zipties are so tight around his arms and legs that he is bleeding. Marinette feels a flash of sympathy, then pushes it away. It was his fault for-- why was he at fault, again?

“I have the video.” Batman sounds even peakier than when they started the call. He plays the video.

“Justice League. This is Ladybug. I rescind my requests for help; I can take care of Paris with my own team. Any help from you at this point would be a detriment and could potentially harm the citizens of Paris. Hawkmoth manipulates strong emotions, and I don’t need to handle a metahuman or tactical genius to gain more power to wreak havoc on my city. I will not contact you with any further requests for assistance.”

It’s an awful video. Marinette had to wait a day after the Heroes’ week fiasco just so her eyes wouldn’t be red. At least her voice doesn’t waver in it. There’s a conviction in the whole video that was unique to that moment.

Marinette looks at Batman, then at Robin.

“Clearly the Justice League refused to listen. Ladybug doesn’t want or need your help at this point in time. Why are you here?”

“The Justice League is at fault for not paying attention to Ladybug’s other videos. But Mayor Bourgeois and President Macron can only cover such alarming incidents for so long. Ladybug and her… team clearly need help in order to find and take down Hawkmoth, so once the American branch of the Justice League found out half a year ago, we started to investigate.” Batman speaks in lieu of Damian. Marinette briefly wonders if Damian knows who Batman is under the mask. She bets he does. They’re probably close, what with how worried Batman sounds.

“What makes you think that the Justice League is any better equipped to handle this situation? Ladybug and her team have been fighting for the past three years and resolved every akuma with no help from you. She needed your help in earlier years. Now she doesn’t.”

“Exactly; it’s been three years and she still hasn’t caught Hawkmoth.”

“You say that like the Justice League doesn’t have a team with more wealth and manpower than Ladybug does that’s been looking into Hawkmoth and the Miraculous for the past half year and clearly has not found any reasonable leads. Ladybug has only been actively looking for Hawkmoth for the past two years, not three. The police handled the first year, not that you’ve done any homework on the situation. Thought that a field agent would help your chances?”

There is fire in Marinette’s stomach. Batman sounds so dismissive of all of the work that she’s been doing. It’s been hard on her; she doesn’t have the support that she needs and doesn’t have the experience or expertise to hunt down Hawkmoth on her own. She trained briefly under Master Fu to learn spells and ways to expand her powers as Ladybug, but that was an equivalent exchange: she no longer trusts that other holders won’t be akumatized. Her growing cynicism and physical training from Maman came at the expense of Chat Noir; after the whole Lila incident in her first year as Ladybug, she found out that Chat Noir and Adrien were one and the same. And Gabriel Agreste is not afraid to use his son until Adrien is stretched far too thin, which forced Marinette to nearly bench her partner.

“Three years,” Batman says again.

“If the Justice League can’t figure it out nearly unlimited resources and funding in half a year-- both ordinary and super human-- then clearly it isn’t a question of time. It’s a question of capability. Get off your high horse, Batman. You haven’t given me any reasons why Ladybug and I shouldn’t deport Robin here, and you’re definitely not making a good case as to why she shouldn’t go to Mayor Bourgeois and France’s president to ensure that the Justice League and its affiliates and ban hero travel into Paris. Bourgeois already doesn’t want information on it’s supervillain situation to get out.”

“Marinette,” Damian pleads.

As Robin and as Damian, he doesn’t pose a threat. He hasn’t been helpful, but he certainly hasn’t messed with the status quo for the month that he’s been here. Still, he is a liability. If he stays in Paris, he is the gateway for the other members of the Justice League to fly in and try to commandeer the fragile balance that she has found. She can’t afford for something like that to happen.

“You’re not any better, Robin. Why did you even hang around me? Thought I was a threat?” Her eyes narrow in realization. It makes sense why he decided to hang out with her, despite his initial cold front. He was playing a role.“You thought I was Hawkmoth.”

His silence is an agreement.

“We just want to help,” Damian says, and against her better judgement, Marinette believes him.

Her shoulders round, and Marinette sighs. She can’t truly begrudge Damian for that train of thought, not when she believed the same about him. She’s been a little harsh on them so far, in part due to old resentment that they never responded to her in that first, awful year when she needed the help.

There’s a dull tiredness that comes with knowing someone who she considered one of her closest friends suspected her of being a supervillain, though she did believe the same of him, so maybe they’re even. It still hurts, though. It hurts like when Alya decided that Marinette was mean-hearted enough to stop the members of their class from reaching their full potential. It hurts like when Marinette finally realized that she couldn’t repair their friendship, not to what it used to be. It hurts like when she looked around the classroom and realized that she couldn’t talk to anyone there. It hurts like when Marinette decided that she couldn’t risk helping her friends the way she wanted to.

“What kind of help can you offer us? We don’t need any more of you to come out here.” Resources are nice. More money to fund therapy programs around town won’t hurt. Master Fu doesn’t help on that part. Really, he doesn’t help at all. Even though she has Chat Noir and had a team, she often feels like it’s herself against the world. Some days, she reaches up to her earrings and feels an aching emptiness, like there’s something more to the Miraculous that’s been sealed away.

“We can give you resources. Money, connections, experience. Robin is good with technology. He can help you track down where Hawkmoth is.”

Marinette’s laugh is bitter. “Sure, he can try, but the butterflies Hawkmoth sends out aren’t visible by the normal human eye or electronically until they’ve found their mark. Once they’re purified, they’re just normal butterflies, and they go off in random directions.”

“Normal human eye? It sounds like there are exceptions.” Damian readjusts himself. He has fidgeted his way into an uncomfortable looking seiza position, where his ankles are bleeding.

“A true holder can see the butterflies at all times.”

Marinette also decides to throw them a bone so there’s no questions as to why a mere civilian is working with Ladybug. “That’s why Ladybug recruited me. I was Multimouse.”

Multimouse was in the file that Damian sent his father, but he asks, just to make sure. “The one that can split itself?”

“That’s correct. I guess now is as good a time as any for the two of you to get your questions answered.”

“Why are you the point of civilian contact instead of any of the other more frequently used heroes? Didn’t you appear only once?” Damian avoids looking Marinette in the eyes, and that makes her feel slightly better. He’s ashamed of his actions. Good.

“Ladybug said that the other hero’s civilian forms were either compromised or not in a good position.”

“Ladybug knows who all the holders are.” Batman speculates. He looks less tense now that Damian is no longer tied up, but his voice remains gravelly and distrubed. Maybe that’s what he sounds like all the time. “Who else knows? Do you?”

“Only Ladybug knows.” Marinette lives in half truths. She’s not sure that they’re much better than lies, but they’re all she has. Secrecy is the only thing Master Fu has sincerely taught her.

“Why have all the other heroes disappeared?”

“Ladybug said that it was too dangerous for someone who could be akumatized to hold a Miraculous. Rena Rage, Shell Shock, Queen Wasp-- they were all frighteningly powerful akumas. It’s also why Chat Noir has been showing up less and less; his home life is not the best, and she’s trying her best to ensure that he doesn’t get akumatized.”

“She’s not worried for herself or,” Damian’s eyes flick to Marinette, away from Batman. “For you?”

“She knows that both of us are good at dealing with stress. We have our own methods of coping.” She looks at Damian, her mouth tightening into a frown. “If you want to stay in Paris, I’ll cut you a deal. We can work together for two weeks, and if we don’t get any results, you have to leave and the Justice League must promise that they won’t interfere again.”

“Two weeks isn’t enough time,” Damian objects.

“If you don’t think it’s enough time, just leave now. I’ll say now that I’m only willing to work with you during the night. That’s the time I work on Miraculous related stuff now, anyways. And stay out of the akuma battles.” She doesn’t actually think that working together will help anyways, and she wants Damian gone sooner rather than later. He’s been making her feel too much and emotions that are far more explosive and easy to take advantage of than Marinette has in a long time. She doesn’t want to be targeted by an akuma because of her inner conflict.

“Two weeks, then,” Batman agrees. “Robin can contact me if you need any extra resources.”

Marinette hangs up and assesses Damian. He looks almost pitiful, with bruising around his eyes, tousled hair, a ripped suit, and cuts where his skin is exposed. She opens her trap door in a clear gesture for him to depart. Downstairs is dark; her Maman and Papa have long since gone to sleep, and it’s only a few more hours until they wake up to start baking. “We start tomorrow. If you need Ladybug for anything, tell me.”

He’s half way down the ladder when he looks back up at Marinette, into her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Marinette can’t breath. She feels like vomiting. His eyes are so green in comparison to the purple bruising on his face. She did that to him. She made him look that way. All she’s ever wanted to do as Ladybug is protect the people she cared for. But Damian-- Marinette doesn’t know. She doesn't know whether what Damian has done can actually be described as bad. He was just trying to do what Batman told him to do. Keeping an eye on a threat. Marinette wonders how long he thought she was Hawkmoth. She wonders if he ever thought they were friends.

“I’m sorry too,” Marinette says, and shuts the trap door.

They’re both sorry for very different things.

#miraculous ladybug #dcu #mlb x dc #maribat #daminette #batfam #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayso #barbara gordon #sbgs #original content #adrien agreste #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne

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akimmito · 4 years

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Road to Home #11

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Master List

----

Marie devoted herself to observing her classmates, being the only place she could choose, although she was also observing in her only class outside of school where she shared with other people, which is swordplay, however, she did n't see anyone worthy.

However, as the school year progresses, she begins to befriend two girls: Alix Kubdel and Rose Lavillant (in addition to a relationship I hate you today, but maybe not tomorrow with Chloe. A weird thing, she doesn't even want to think much about that).

And since Master Fu repeats to her every day to trust her instincts, well, she has invited the three girls to join her Judo classes (which is the most normal thing, she would not know how to explain to them why she's learning a technique of Combat designed by a specialized military team, yes, she's not having that conversation... until the time comes.)

With the end of their second year living with Master Fu, the four girls become friends. Of course, with the peculiarities that the clash of personalities entails because: how have a light person, a daughter of the night, a queen bee and an antisystem have been coupled without diverging? Miraculous, Fu would say.

This is how she has come to the exact situation where she must reveal the greatest secret of her life... no, not as dramatic as that. Her biggest secret is Tim, sweet Tim, who is sure he's getting into trouble somewhere other than Gotham because, surely, HE'S TRAINING TO BE A ROBIN. When she sees him, she's going to hit him, not for being Robin but for putting himself in danger. It's funny how she became so attached to a child with whom he only had a relationship for a month and a half.

But that is not the issue there, the issue is that she has brought them together so they can start training with prodigies. She chose her allies and must prepare them. That is her first mission as a future guardian, really, after two years, the imminent death of Master Fu feels painful, hopefully he will see her graduate from school... although she doubts it.

"So, Todd, why so much secrecy? Where we are? "Chloe grimaces as they walk through the building where she lives, which is only inhabited by them.

"My home."

"So many laps around town to come to your house, Marie?" Alix asks incredulously. Well, she hasn't shared much about her life, other than mentioning that she was adopted in Germany by her grandfather.

"I have my reasons." She says cryptically when they reach the door, she opens it immediately and is greeted by the empty place. Better this way, she will be able to talk to them under her own rules.

The girls come in and watch the decor, the Chinese influence is clear all over the place. Marie invites them to sit down while she goes to get some cookies and tea, she has the selected boxes ready and will put them on the table too. Doing it in those moments will allow the training sessions to be more varied, she will not launch anyone into any battle just knowing Judo, they need to develop combat styles in conjunction with the weapons of each Miraculous, especially those less orthodox like yo-yo or the spinning top, who came up with it?

"I have gathered you here to discuss something important."

"Will you enroll us in a sect? I knew you were part of a sect! "Alix cheers and giggles, Rose just hides a giggle and Chloe looks at her unimpressed.

“Todd. I'm not missing my afternoon spa just for tea and cookies. "

"Sure…" Marie just sighs and settles, again, how did she come to a cordial relationship with Chloe Bourgeois when the first few months narrowly didn't punch each other? Well, it only remains to go with the flow and when everything ends up going into Arkham because she went crazy. "What do you think of being heroes?"

"Heroes? Something like Superman? "Alix questions intrigued.

"That would be incredible! Can you imagine the attention we would receive? ”Chloe seems to have stars in her eyes at the idea, Marie winces.

"She was talking more about fighting and saving people."

"Why, Marie?" Rose speaks for the first time, curious about the direction of the conversation.

"At some point in the next few years, a villain will appear in Paris and heroes will be needed to fight him. A special type of hero, in the best Maho Shoujo style.

"The anime genre?" Alix seems doubtful, so Marie takes out the boxes and opens them one by one revealing the chosen Kwami.

Tikki, Pollen and Trixx appear in front of the three girls.

"Oh God!" Alix jumps back at the sight of the three creatures and is more exalted when she sees a fourth emerge from Marie's jacket. "What are they?"

"Kwami, do you want to hear a story?"

And so she begins to explain about the Kwami, about the lost prodigies and about their future role, if they accept, of course. The four girls remain silent, Marie waits patiently for them to decide, if they refuse, she begins to review the different spells that she can use to erase their memory and pretend that the meeting never happened.

"Is that why you invited us to Judo, Todd?"

"Yes."

"Amazing, but we are children. "

"I am aware, but I do not trust adults and that is why I tell them in time. We will prepare, we will be as amazing as Wonder Woman."

"You talked me into Wonder Woman, Marie." Alix smirks, Marie has never done anything she didn't plan to, so she will trust her and help her. The other option is for the girl to do it all by herself and she would be a very bad friend if she allowed it, total, they just have to fight a villain at some point in the future and they will be ready.

"I don't like violence, but if someone wants to hurt people, count on me." Rose murmurs with some doubt, but with clear intentions.

"Todd, you've earned a new level of respect. Do I have to save my identity?

"Yes, no one should know who we are. Start thinking of names. ”Marie smiles and proceeds to give the respective jewels. "Rose Lavillant, I give you the Miraculous of the Ladybug, it gives you the power of creation and to purify evil. "

Rose takes the box that she offers and smiles at the stained Kwami, who spins around her and greets with joy for the choice of Marie, a pure and innocent soul with a lot of creative potential, she just needs to teach him to exploit him to better synchronize with his powers . Since Marie was a soul of creation born in a bad luck well, she can no longer synchronize with the powers of the ladybug and became a perfect pair for Plagg, the other side of the coin.

"Alix Kubdel, I grant you the Miraculous of the Fox, he gives you the power of illusion."

The girl looks curiously at the little fox, who analyzes her head-on and soon the two of them are colliding the five as if they had read the mind. They both thought the same thing: it will be fun.

“Chloe Bourgeois, as a worthy queen, I grant you the Miraculous of the Bee, she grants you the power of subjection. "

Chloe marvels when the little bee bows to her, much to her ego? Well, Marie will have to get used to it.

"I'm the bearer of the Miraculous of the Black Cat, grant the power of destruction."

"A cat? Lovely. "

"I'm not adorable, girl, I'm a god."

"Plagg." Tikki says.

"What? It's the true. "The black Kwami goes to the kitchen leaving them in the living room.

"Well, Pollen likes honey." Chloe nods, agreeing to let Pollen lie on her head, already thinking about how she will use the comb to include it in her style. "Trixx loves carrots. ”Alix nods, picking up the necklace and putting it on, thinking it's too flashy to just wearing it on her clothes. "Tikki is a fan of sweets, especially cookies, he really liked those at the Dupain-Cheng bakery near the school. "

"I love those cookies, too!" Rose shines for having an excuse to buy daily, she will be able to share a lot with her new friend.

So they spend the whole afternoon refining the details and agreeing on what they will do to improve in combat, leaving them to decide the style they want to follow. In addition to explaining the weapons and her recommendations.

-----

Well, here it's after so long. I have actually momentarily paused the writing of this fic, but I intend to follow it soon.

Tag list: @tori-mmm

#timinette #timari #maribat

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hobbitsnapes · 4 years

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The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 16

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @tyuuniverse)

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @comic-brew @psychovigilantewrites @psych0crybaby

Days go by, and each one sandy feels more comfortable being here. Now coming out each day of her room. No longer staying in feeling as though she’s trapped inside the room like the rest of the manor was hell. Most of her days she’d frequent the garden, walking around and taking in the beautiful flowers and trees.

But the majority of her time was spent in tims room. Having grown a friendship with the insomniac. But she couldn’t really say anything, due to usually coming in at the wea hours of the night to the earliest of the day.

And that’s where she found herself, at the early hour of 3:57 AM hanging upside down on tims bed with him beside her.

“why do they make decaffeinated coffee? Who does that help?” He asks. The pair hadn’t said a word in minutes. “People who like coffee but not the caffeine. Or Constipated people.” She replies. Tim nodding his reddening face due to the blood flow from being upside down. “Do you think the ocean is so salty because of whale sperm?” She asks, making him laugh. “Where in the fuck do you think of these things?” He asks, still laughing. Sandy pulls herself up, Tim following in suit. “I could ask you the same question.” She asks. They both lay back on the bed this time, heads fitting comfortably against the plush blankets. “Wanna play a game?” He asks, she tunes to him, “I want to play a game.” She says in a deep voice. This causes Tim to roll his eyes. “Okay jiggy. Let’s play 20 questions.”

“Most embarrassing story?” She asks. “The time everyone went out and I popped a hard on and the thug laughed thinking it was because of him. When in reality it was cause I was young and couldn’t control them.” This caused sandy to let out a large laugh, dubling over clutching her stomach. “Alright alright alright, it’s my turn to ask.” Tim chuckles. Her eyes look up at him, nodding her head slightly. “Favorite memory?” He asks. Her brow furrows as she looks to the side. Eyes slightly squinted. “I have 2 that I can’t pick between.” She sighs. “Then tell me what they are.” Tim says.

She pauses for a moment, looking back over to him. Letting out a large breath. “My 8th birthday. My dad was always busy but would always make sure to come into my room each night, and if I wasn’t asleep, he'd take me out to our living room, and with my mom we’d all take a huge blanket and all the pillows and make a huge heap on our couch. Most nights we’d end up falling asleep together. Sometimes we’d watch a movie or they’d tell me a bedtime story. Each one was different from the last. Well that night my dad brought me out into our living room, he took the day off to spend it with me. And he said to sit there by myself and wait patiently. So o did, and after 10 minutes my mom and dad came out.” She starts laughing as she’s speaking, trying to calm herself down to tell the rest. “T-they both came out in what I think was an 80s rendition of the Renaissance. They then gave me a dress to put on, along with a crown. The dress was a ball gown that was white with light blue lace, it also had small pearls on it. The crown was beautiful, it almost looked real with the shine of the diamonds and sapphires. We then spent the rest of the night dancing, to anything that played. We then all got in my parents bed, and they held me until we all fell asleep.” A tear fell down her eye, wiping it away almost immediately after it cascaded down her face. An ache reasoned within her heart at the fond memory. “The next one had to be at the fair with Jaso. I hadn’t been there with him long. I don’t even think it was a month at that point. He, he really was trying. I saw every attempt he made to get closer with me, and each time I’d pretend I didn’t notice or not be interested and go to my room. God, my room. I hated it at first. It was originally the weapon room, he has removed all of them but it was almost completely bare.”

Both of them step into the small room, both silent apart from their breathing.

Jason had gotten all of the guns, the knives, anything out of the room when she took a shower. Both just meeting an hour prior.

She eyes around the mostly bare room. A small cot bed was nestled into the corner of the room, along with a small bedside table with a lamp on top of it. Apart from those, dark curtains cover the window. The floorboards were bare, cold on her feet. “I’m sorry about the bed. I-I can have you take mine if you’d like?” He asks her. She looks over at him, seeing the panic in his face. “No no, this is more than enough. Thank you.” She says, looking down at the large t-shirt that hung below to her boney knees. “Do you need anything? I have some books, I don’t have a tv here but-“ she looks up at him, his rambling stopping. “I’m honestly really tired right now.” She says. “Alright, get some rest.” He says.

He walks to the door, but stops. “Thank you, um?” She says, her eyes scrunching slightly. “Jason. Jason Todd.”

A tear slipped down both her eyes, but was snapped out of it when she felt tims hand on her shoulder. She wipes both away and looked up at him, his face contorted in worry. “Sorry, but back to what I was saying. The fair was amazing, we had so much fun playing all the games, riding most of the rides, and the others I watched biting my nails as I watched him go on the extreme ones. God I, I felt like he was my actual dad, and that we were just normal father and daughter going to the fair for the first time. I finally felt like there was some normalcy in my life, that I could just be a kid again. I, I didn’t feel guilty. Each time he would try bonding with me, it killed me because I felt like I was replacing my parents with him. That I shouldn’t bond with another person because it’s not fair to my actual parents.” Small tracks of tears fell down her face, no longer trying to wipe them away. “But that day, I felt like my parents wanted me to. They wanted me to feel like a kid, to have fun again. I felt them with me that day, and that was also the day I started slowly seeing him as my dad.” Her tears had dried at this point, having been replaced with a smile. Fond memories of the day played through her mind. No longer a pain in her heart, but a warmth flooded through her as she remembers one of the best days of her life. “Alright, my turn. Why Red Robin? And why not add him to the end of it?” She asked, a smirk on her face. “Oh for fucks sake.” A large laughter reasoned throughout the room.

“Then when I came in to tell Bruce what happened he was balls deep blowing her back out on the-“ Tim was cut off from laughing so hard, both him and sandy laying on his bed clutching their chests due to the heavens of their laughter. It had been some time, the sun started creeping over the trees for a few minutes at that point.

They both lay there as their laughter started to die down, that is until footsteps were heard walking by. Sandy abruptly stopped laughing, turning to the door with wide eyes and tensed muscles. Her heart fell but Accelerated to the point of it being painful, until the door remained closed and the footsteps drifted away. She felt a hand on her shoulder, turning back to Tim. Worry overtook his face. “It’s alright, he doesn’t even come in here anyways.” A large sigh escaped her as she ducked her head down. “I know, I just can’t help but get worried whenever I hear him.” She says, a frown painted on her lips. Tim brought her in for a hug, wrapping her in his arms and rubbing his hands along her back. Her head rested on his shoulder as small tracks of tears fell down her cheeks.

“Alright, last question.” Tim says, looking over to her as she played with the strings on her jacket. She turns her head to him, looking into his eyes as her heart speeds up, the fear of the question but the Curiosity outwayung her fear. “Why does my dad not y’all to you guys? He told me he was robin, and that he was killed. But he never said what happened besides that?” She asks softly, her brows slightly furrowed. A sigh leaves Tim as he looks away. “It’s, complicated. It’s not my place to tell. But I will tell you, it came after what happened to him.”

Dick sighs as he puts his head in his hands. His brow furrowed as lips in a tight line. He pulls at his hair, meshing his hands into knots into it. “God what am I gonna do?” He whispers to himself.

He paces back and forth along the floor. Eying his feet as he bites at his nails. It’s a bad habit he developed as a child, but with the help of Alfred he stopped it for the most part. That is unless he’s very stressed. Sometimes he’ll chew them raw, pain coating the tips of his fingers for days. A knock at the door abruptly stopping him, looking over to it but seeing nothing. Could it have been another room? He wonders.

He walks over to it and opens it, and looking out and meeting sandy standing there. She was clad in a an oversized sweater and high waisted jeans. “Hey, you need anything?” He asks, curious as to why she had knocked at the door. “I heard you pacing when I was walking by. I got worried if you were alright is all.” She replies. Worry taking over her face. He sighs, and steps to the side to let her in.

“Yes and no. I, I’m planning on proposing to barabara in a few days. I’m so excited for it. But I have no idea how to do it.” He sighs. Head again in his hands as he stairs beside her. Dick had moved out long ago, but would still sometimes stay at the manor if he was needed. Him and sandy had bonded slightly over the past 2 weeks she had been there. While most of her time was spent with Tim, she did a few times come to spend time with the eldest of the brothers. They both would usually discus her father, his embarrassing stories when he was young. Or her love for ballet. Dick promising her that he’ll come by to practice with her sometime. “Alright, you want some advice?” She replies, raising her brow slightly at him. “Sure, whatcha got?”

“So you guys met on top of the police department?” She asks. Her brow raised as she asks. “Yes, it was one of my first nights as robin.” Memories flooding through his mind from the memory. She sells her hands together with a wide smile. “There you go! Ask her there!” She exclaims happily. A chuckle leaving dick. “Elaborate please?”

“Tell her to meet you up there. And have ready a small table with dinner, wine, and candles. The whole 9 yards. Then, ask her there. It is after all where you guys met. It’s a special place for the both of you. I promise she’ll love it.” She says with a smile. “What if she says no? We haven’t always been the model couple. What if she doesn’t want to marry me?” He asks. Fear and doubt eating heavy in his chest. She puts a hand on his shoulder, with a warm smile on her face. “How long have you guys been back together?” “The day I plan on asking her will make 5 years.” A smile taking over his face. “And how long in total has she been by you?” A laugh leaving him briefly at the question. “Well over a decade at this point.” A large smile taking over both their faces. “That’s your answer. She’s been by your side through everything. And to this day she stays and loves you. I see the way she looks at you. It’s the same look my mom looked at my dad with. She loves you so much, and I know that she’ll be so happy to marry you.” A small tear leaves his eye. He looks over to her, tears brimming her eyes. He pulls her into a large hug, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Thank you. You really are an angel.”

The small ticks of the computers, along with the heavy noise of the waterfall nearly drown out the sound of the tumbler. The chill in the room increasing tenfold due to the opening of the large cave to the cold outside. She turns away from the boxing bag, removing her gloves. She watches as dick exits first, following along with Tim in the back. A dull ache resins within her when Damian exits. Turning her head away before he saw her. Hearing his footsteps head for the showers.

She starts walking over to Tim, eying him over at the med table stripping the top of his suit off. A cut ran along his left peck. Only scraping the skin and no muscle, with the blood nearly gone and congealed slightly. It looked to not need any stitching, just s good clean and bandage.

A grunt was heard behind her, taking her focus away from Alfred cleaning up tims wound.

She turns around and spots Bruce, he was lugging boxes out of the tumbler over to the computer desks. She ran over and grabbed a box herself, bringing it over to the table and going back over to help him. “You don’t have to, I've got it.” Bruce replies, his voice strained slightly. Sweat poured down his ghostly white face. Worry struck her as she watched as he had a hard time taking the box in his arms. “I wanna help. I didn’t go out tonight so the least I can do is help bring in the information.” She replies back. Eying him closely the entire time.

A groan leaves him as he picks up another box, stumbling slightly and dropping the box. Worry floods her as she watches him. Dropping her box on the table and running over. “Hey hey hey. What’s going on?” She asks. She notices His hand clutching his side. She removes it to see blood covering his hand. “Hey it’s gonna be okay.” She says. Taking her jacket off and handing it to him. “Apply this to it and I’ll be right back.” She runs over to the end station, grabbing the first aid kit along with anything else she needs and runs back over. She kneels down to him, taking out the scissors and cutting the top of his suit off. She slips the top of his suit off, gently removing his hand from the wound. It didn’t look to be internally deep, no ripped muscles were shown and the blood looked external rather than coming internally. The skin was torn slightly, but overall it didn’t appear to be life threatening. She slips on a pair of gloves and grabs a bottle of saline solution “It doesn’t look that bad, but I am gonna do some stitches okay? Do you want me to numb it?” She asks. Her face no longer full of worry. “No need, I barely feel them now.” She nods her head to him. She soaks the wound in the saline, the water running down his side onto the floor. She dabs it slightly with gauze and soaks the area a couple more times until the water ran to a light pink. She applies the gauze to the area, having him hold it as she soaks the suture in alcohol. She pulls the skin together, and locates the center of the cut. Slowly pulling the needle through the first part of the skin to the other side, then out the wound, back through the wound on the other side and out the skin. She pulls the skin together again and ties it off with a double knot. She works back toward the edge placing a new suture halfway between the end of the gash and the closest stitch. “You’re doing a great job at this.” He says, eying her as she slowly makes the next stitch. “Thanks, if I had a penny for the amount of times I’ve had to stitch my dad up, I’d be richer than you in a year.” She jokes back. Causing a smile to grow on his face. “My actual dad was also a surgeon. I guess I got his doctor's hands.” She chuckles. Bruce’s brow furrows. “What was his name?” He asks. “Hal hawks. He was a surgeon here in Gotham.” A sad smile on her face when she said his name. “I remember him. I had gone to him for a shattered kneecap a few years ago. Doctors said I wouldn’t be able to walk again. But your dad did the surgery and I was walking in no time. He was a good man.” A tear slipped down from her eye at his reply. “They both are. Look, I don’t know what happened between you and my dad. But he’s a great father. With everything that’s happened to me in the last few years, I would give up my life for him for everything he’s done for me.” A sigh leave him as he looks at her, Tara brimming her eyes. “If I know one thing, it’s that Jason is a good man. And a good father. He’s exactly the kind of father for you. And I couldn’t be happier.”

The room was almost completely dark, the only light coming from the full moon shining in through the blinds. She tossed and turned, not being able to find a comfortable position to lay in. Her mind wouldn’t calm down, racing heavily on multiple things. Glancing over to her bedside table, and reading it was 4:26 in the morning. A sigh leaving her as she sits up in bed. She knew Tim would be up, this time usually being their time they go to each other’s rooms to either watch a movie, play a game, or sometimes paperwork.

Slipping out of bed and over to her closet, grabbing a robe and slipping it on. The silk inside felt warm to her exposed skin. Having only wearing a pair of underwear underneath.She wasn’t worried about wearing this around him. Having worn this before when he came to her room and he never once tried anything or even taken a glance. She suspected she knew the reason as to why, but not quite sure if it was true. Her room would get quite hot in the night. With the cold weather outside the heat would be cranked up higher during the night. This causing her to strip almost to the nude as to not sweat all night. Walking out of her door she was met with the chilled air of the hallway. A shiver ran up her spine. Her feet almost feeling painful against the cold wood.

She starts her way over to his room down the other end of the hallway. But stopping abruptly at the door opening to her side. Her stomach dropping as she’s met with damian towering over her. Shock takes over both their faces briefly as they just stand there. They were frozen in place, hearts beating so heavily they were sure the other could hear it. Their eyes just locked into one another’s. They both tear their eyes away as she looks down from his gaze. Another shiver ran through her. He was shirtless. His tan skin glistening with a fine layer of sweat, probably due to the heating. Clad in only sweatpants that stopped at just above his v line. His chest rose and fell fast due to his heavy breathing. His hair was messy. No longer slicked back and straight. Now a mass of soft curls that puffed slightly. She’d almost say he looked cute. But pain shoots through her heart when the thought played in her mind. His eyes were locked on her. Her hair had grown ever slightly since the last time he saw it. The blank locks soft curls around her face. A feeling of electricity flowed through him along with warmth when he looked at what she was wearing. Or lack thereof. She wore a thin ivory colored robe. The thinness of the silk laid against her soft skin. His heart sped up when he noticed she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Her breasts were framed against the silk. Her skin looking as soft as a petal. From the cold of the hallway, he could clearly see her nipples poking out of the fabric. His body now hot as he fought with himself as to not grab a hold of her to feel her skin against his again. A fire slightly burning inside him as he looks at her.

His mouth was slightly open, as if he was about to speak but couldn’t.“I was just going-“ “to drakes room. I know.” He cuts her off. His usual hard voice sounding tired and deadpan. She looked up at him again. His face was blank, but his eyes showed a slight strain in them. “Can’t sleep?” She asks. Her voice an almost whisper. He closes his eyes and nods. “Yeah.” He whispers. His eyes slightly crinkled. “Do, do you need anything? Are you alright?” She asks. Her voice slightly wavering. Her heart aching as she looks up at him. Tears wanting to spill from her eyes. His eyes shut tighter. “I’m good. Goodnight.” He whispers. His face in pain as she shuts the door. A tear slipping down her face.

A quietness filled the large room as everyone finished their plates, all of them apart from her and Alfred bid their goodnights and thank yous to the butler before walking to their rooms. She watches as he stacked some of the plates, his hands shaking slightly under the weight. “Hey, why don’t you let me do the washing up tonight.” She asks. Her eyes hopeful as she eyes the elderly butler. “Oh it’s perfectly fine miss-“ “please, you always do it for us. And I know it’s your job but, I wanna do it and help around here.” She says. She puts her hand against his shoulder. A warm smile on her face. “Alright miss Todd. Thank you.” A soft smile on his face when he hands her the plates. “No problem Alfey.”

Plates clinked together as she scrubbed them. The water hot against her hands as she removed the sticky sauce from the plate. Humming a song in her head as she did them.

She turns around to put the dish on the rack. Having not noticed before that Damian has walked in to grab some water from the fridge. She gasped and dropped the plate, letting out a small yell when it shattered on the floor. He put his hands out in front of him to her. The crash startling her and not seeing it was Damian due to the low light in the room and his hand out. She let out another tell as she quickly spun around, grabbing a small knife and throwing it at him.

He caught in just before it hit his face, his heart beating out of his chest as he watched her heaving for air. “What the fuck was that!” He yelled out. Anger flowing through him. “I didn’t see it was you! And you put your hands out like that, what was I supposed to do! Don’t get fuckin mad at ME that you jumped me!” She yelled at him. Her fists in balls are her sides. “NOT THROW A FUCKING KNIFE AT ME! GOD WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT!” He screams out. His whole body tensed up as anger overtook his face. “Why don’t you ask yourself that.” She snaps back. Her arms folded on her chest. “I fuckin ask myself a lot of questions about you.” He snarls back. A pain shoots through her heart at the venom in his voice. “Oh and what’s that supposed to mean.” She bites back. “How I didn’t see it. How I didn’t realize who you actually were. I’m not even mad about what you and Todd do. I’m mad that you act like you’re this perfect little thing that’s so kind to everyone. And then you just waltz right in here and get all buddy buddy with everyone! And I’m angry that I fell for you. I’m angry that the first time I have feelings for someone it was you. I’m not even angry like I was. I’m angry because it still hurts me every time I look at you because you weren’t who I thought you were!” He yelled out. Tears streaming down his face. A vain popping out of his temple as he yelled. Her eyes flowing out tears as her heart broke for the forth time. A deep pain shooting through her as tears rolled out like a waterfall down her face and chest. “What you’re not getting is THIS IS ME! I showed you who I truly am that entire time Damian! I let myself for the first time bare my heart for someone besides my dad. You just think I’m 2 different people when IM NOT! AND HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL! IT KILLS ME THAT YOU LOOK AT ME WITH DISGUST BECAUSE I WAS FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU! HOW IS IT FAIR THAT YOU TAKE YOUR ANGER OUT ON ME WHEN I'M HURTING TOO! GOD IT FUCKING HIRTS SO BAD!” She screams out, her voice breaking due to the heavy tears. Her heart now nothing but filled with hard pain that squeezed her chest and throat. She beat her hands against his chest, tears streaming down her face as she lets out yells. He grabs a hold of her wrists, trying not to be hard as to got hurt her. Tears falling down his face as his heart broke as he watched her. Her face was contorted in pain as sobs wrecked her body. “WHY! WHY DID I HAVE TO FALL FOR YOU!” She sobbed out. Her head liply laying against his chest. She keeps whispering why as she soaked his shirt. “Why do you keep doing this to me?” She weakly whispers out. Tears fall even harder down his face. He laid his head in her hair, soaking her scalp. “I-I can’t do this.” She says. She rips her wrists from his hands, looking away as she runs out of the room. Her sobs being heard until she gets far enough away. Sobs overtaking his body as he falls to his knees. His head in his hands as he sobs violently. His heart breaking again.

Dick runs down the hallway towards her room, his heart beating heavily in his chest. He had heard everything, tears brimming his eyes the entire time he heard the level of pain in their voices. His heart falling when he heard her running towards her room.

He walked in and saw the window was open. The blinds shielding the outside view. But he heard her quiet sobs from her door. He walked out onto the balcony, seeing her looking over the ledge with her head in her arms. The puddle of tears soaking the floor. He wrapped his arms around her. Holding her tight as she turned around into his chest and sobbed even harder. Tears now escaping his eyes as he watches as she shakes with how violent she’s sobbing. “Shhh it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.” He whispers, rubbing his hand on the middle of her back. Avoiding her shoulders. “W-why is he doing this?” She sobs out. Her voice quiet due to her throat being raw. “Damians never had feelings for someone. He’s always had anger problems and doesn’t know how to handle his emotions well. And whenever he’s scared or hurt, he lashes out. I’m gonna have a talk with him. I’m sorry I haven’t sooner.” He says, her sobs slowing down as he talked. “It’s okay. I understand. I just wish I had my dad with me right now.” Tears fell down her face at the end. Pain shooting through her as she misses her father being with her. Having grown used to his hold and presence whenever she was sad or hurt. “I know, and I promise you’ll see him soon. Want me to stay out here with you till you feel better?” He asks. Looking down at her. Her sapphire eyes brimmed red. “Please.”

“That was the best prank we did on Bruce, god he couldn’t figure out how to stop the ghostbusters theme playing over the coms for a month!” He laughed out. Both of them laughing hard at the story. “Sounds like you and my dad were his worst nightmare kids.” Age laughed out. A fond smile grew on his face. “You have no idea. Him and I were really close when he was robin. He was the little brother I had dreamed of having my whole life.” He replied. His face slightly falling at the end. Her eyes squinted slightly as she watched as his face fell a bit more. “Dick, can I ask you something?” He looks over at her, her face painted in concern. “Sure.” He replies. She takes in a deep breath, her heart beating fast again against her rib cage. “What, happened? Nobody’s told me why he didn’t speak to all of you for so long.” A sigh leave him at her question. Pain in his chest creeping up his neck when he thought about it. “Alright, I’ll tell you. But please, understand we love him and didn’t do this to hurt him.” Her eyes widen slightly. “Okay.”

“He, told you about joker right?” He asked. Both now lying on her bed. “Yeah, he killed him but he came back.” She replies. Her eyes watching as his face fell again. “That’s, not entirely what happened. Joker didn’t just kill him. He held him in an abandoned building near Arkham asylum. He Tortured him for over 6 months. None of us could find them because whenever we thought we did, he’d switch buildings. Until he brought him to an abandoned wing of the asylum. There he, did things to him. Things that he hasn’t even spoken about. And one day, Bruce got a video. It was Jason tied to a wheelchair. He was hurt so badly. His suit was torn and almost completely red from blood. He was slumped over. And, out walked joker from behind him. And he, he shot him in the head.” Tears fell down both their faces as he says the last part. “We, found his body. We took him back here and buried him. Well, damians mom talia took his body for some reason. And she put him in this thing called the lazarus pit. Its able to heal all wounds, and some can bring back someone’s life. Well, it worked. But not exactly. It changes people, what was once a kind, sane person, can go mad and angry from it. Jason lashes out, and ran away from the league. He ended up back in Gotham. And he, because of his anger, started killing criminals. He was eventually found by Barbara’s dad Jim. And he’s known about ya since I was robin. And he called Bruce. Jason couldn’t speak. He didn’t look the same as he used to and he was dubbed a John Doe. But jim knew. Bruce, he didn’t know what to do. So, he had Jason admitted to Arkham. The place had cleaned up a lot in the last year. Now actually helping people. Bruce paid off the doctors for Jason not to let the word out that he was there. And he made all of us promise, not to speak or let him see us. He didn’t know if he’d handle it well and lash out again. So we didn’t. For 3 years we watched as he was there. And he was doing amazing. He grew to be massive, and his hair grew out and was bright reddish blonde. He even grew a beard that was firey ginger. You literally couldn’t recognize him if you knew him when he was robin. And, we all thought he had forgotten us. He never once mentioned us, his life at the manor, being robin, joker, nothing. We thought that entire time was wiped from his memory. And it killed me. God the amount of times I’d go there to bring back someone like croc or pyg, I’d always fight with myself not to go to his room to see my little brother.”

Pain shot through dicks chest when he walked down the hallway, knowing he was behind that door. He stopped at it, tears threatening to spill over his mask as he looked at the door. Hands shaking at his sides, until he reaches up and skids the window of the door, looking in. There sat Jason on his bed, his hair had grown long, even longer than his own and was a light red. His firey bead covered his face. His body was massive, you wouldn’t believe he was only 21 due to the size of his body. No longer the scrawny street kid he once was. Now he was large with bulging muscles and towering height. He looked, calm. And happy. He was at ease in the room. Reading his book and sipping some water. Tears fell down dicks eyes as he watched, his little brother not seeing him, and wouldn’t recognize who he was.

“He did so amazing, so amazing that he was being let out. We knew the date he was, and Bruce, Alfred and I prepared ourselves for how bad it’d hurt. Knowing he wouldn’t come back. Never remembering who we are. At this point Damian has become robin. He was about 15 at the time. Him and Tim has never met him before. So it wouldn’t hurt them to watch as he built his life without us. But we were wrong. The day he was let out, all 3 of us had cried a little. But, that night, Alfred cane to the door, and he fainted. Because there at the door, was Jason. Turns out, he remembered everything. But the doctors did such a good job, he forgave us. He came in and, I don’t think I had ever hugged someone for so long. We both were crying, eventually Bruce and Alfred joined in and we all stayed in the living room for hours catching up. And things were perfect, he stayed here in his room and wouldn’t really leave the manor. He, even grew close to Tim and a little bit with Damian. He actually was our computer guy, you wouldn’t know it but damn he knows his way around a computer and tracking. And it was like this for about a year. Them that night, he had come into the cave and told us he wanted to go back out with us. It was gonna be a really difficult night and he wanted to go back out to help. But Damian said he couldn’t. They got into a huge fight, and, Damian let it out that Bruce had him admitted to Arkham. Jason he, he thought we didn’t know he was alive. He never knew, and that’s when he, he lost it on us, and he left. It kills me that I never went to see him. I wish I had, maybe he wouldn’t hate-“ “stop it dick.” She cuts him off, hand on his shoulder. Tears falling from his eyes. He looks into hers, no longer red with tears. “He doesn’t hate you. You were doing what you were told for the safety of your brother. You did nothing wrong. I’m not mad at what you did or didn’t do. No, who I’m mad at, is Bruce.”

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #older!damian wayne #Batman #batfam x reader #batfamily #Jason Todd #red hood #dick grayson #Tim drake #dc #dc imagine #dceu

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sweet-sammy-kisses · 5 years

Text

The Annual Shipping Polls

Fandom: Batman/DC Pairings: Dick/Tim, Bruce/Diana, Roy/Kory/Jason, Stephaine/Cassandra, mentions of fandom Kon/Tim, fandom SuperBats Summary: Dick is brooding, Jason is amused, Tim is confused, Damian is annoyed, Stephanie and Babs want to knock some heads, and Cass and Diana are all-knowing. Author notes: This is my first time writing Dick/Tim and I owe a huge thank you to @iphoenixrising who’s amazing Tim stories got me longing to write my own Tim stories.

Like many things Jason will claim that it was all Roy’s fault he discovered it first and after laughing for several moments sought out Jason.

It was the annual shippers poll that happened once a year where fans of superheroes would vote for their favorite ship as they went head to head to see who would win. There was favorite slash, female slash, het, poly and superheroes, and their villains.

When it was first discovered an amused Lois sent the links to Clark.

Diana had been amused.

Bruce grunted and glared.

Clark feared just a little for his life.

SuperBats had won favorite slash pairing while WonderBat had won for favorite het pairing and The Trinity had won for favorite poly pairing.

It stayed like that for many years until other heroes started appearing Wally and Dick to their amusement learned that they were a much loved BirdFlash and one of the few that could give SuperBats a run for their money but sadly always came a little short of beating them. Nightwing/Starfire was a much-loved pairing and one year managed to defeat WonderBat only for the WonderBat fans to come back next year and claim their crown.

To Barry Allen's shock and Leonard Snart amusement, ColdFlash was undefeatable as the fans' favorite hero/villain pairing. No one was really surprised when those two actually did end up together.

Roy had been checking to see where the Outlaws ranked and was pleased to see that they had won favorite poly pairing. "Finally, good to see that people have some good taste."

Continuing on Roy fought back the laughter when he saw that Nightwing/Red Hood had made it pretty far. "Oh, this is priceless." Roy printed out he wondered how long it would last before Jason used it for target practice.

Moving up the list Roy was waiting to see that once again SuperBats was named as the top slash pairing only to stop and stare. "No way."

But it was there SuperBats was in second place.

"JASON! SOMEONE BEAT SUPERBATS!" Roy shouted with glee.

Jason was at Roy's side in a second all but shoving him out of the way he was a little bummed to see that Bruce and the boy scout were no longer number one, he loved using it to annoy Bruce. Jason loved the little twitch Bruce developed when Jason brought it up. "Who beat them?" Jason growled out. "It better not be me and Dickie!" Jason could do so much better than Dick. 'So could replacement but for some reason, he is hooked on him.'

Roy's body hummed with amusement, "A new version of SuperBats."

For several moments Jason could only stare at the computer screen as he processed what he had just read. “Oh, this is just too good.” Forget teasing Bruce this was glorious.

+*****+

Diana Prince -Wayne wasn't at all surprised when Jason breezed into the cave a mischievous look on his face. She knew that she shouldn't play favorites and she did her best not to but Jason out of all of Bruce's partners had a special place in her heart. "I take it that you have seen the outcome of the latest results of the annual polls?" She knew that Jason loved to tease Bruce about the fact that people loved the Batman with Superman he had even gone as far one year to cover the cave in fanfics and fanart of the couple and even got Babs to have the bat computer play Superman's theme for every little thing.

A small smile appeared on Jason's face she was one the few people that he genuinely liked to see. Personally, Jason thought Diana could do better she is fucking Wonder Woman after all! But for some reason that Jason couldn't understand she had fallen in love with Bruce. 'Bruce is one lucky son of a bitch.' "I did indeed but I am going to wait until everyone is here to tell the wonderful news."

"Just go easy on Dick, he is still in denial." Diana already knew she was curious about the outcome of these polls and she knew what had Jason so happy.

Jason knew that Diana had a point, he wasn't blind he saw the glances Dick tossed Tim’s way when he thought no one was looking, the longing and desire to fix things. Jason knew that Dick’s feelings for Tim were far from brotherly but he wouldn't act on them. Dick still carried guilt when he made Tim think that he wasn't wanted anymore when he took Robin from him and gave it to Damian, Tim was just starting to come back to realize that they did want him and Dick wouldn't risk Tim running away again.

"Alright, I won't tease Dickie too much," Jason promised.

"That is all I ask of you." Diana smiled serenely at him before pulling out a copy of a much loved Jane Austen novel, "Something to keep you entertained until the others get here."

Taking the novel Jason pressed a kiss on Diana's cheek, "And this is why you are my favorite."

+*****+

Dick Grayson stepped one foot in the cave and saw that Jason was already there, the grin on his face promising a good time for Jason and humiliation for anyone but him. Dick knew what day it was today but he never cared much about it, unlike Jason who loved it, mostly because he loved to tease those who won.

Jason grinned at the look of dread on Dick and Tim's face, the grin that grew as Bruce looked even more gloomy than normal.

Stephanie's hand in hand with Cassandra entered the cave with a bounce and a wide smile on her face, "Guess who won favorite female couple?" She beamed at Cass who returned it with a small smile.

Tim smiled at them, he was happy his favorite sister and Stephanie had found happiness with each other. "Like there was any doubt."

Stephanie preened, "It just shows that people have good taste."

Tim did not like the look on her face, it matched the one Jason was wearing.

“It would seem that after many years ranking at the top SuperBats has been at last defeated!” Jason announced.

Bruce grunted he didn't understand why people shipped him and Clark together but he was curious as to who finally dethroned them. ‘Maybe this will finally stop Hal and Barry from sending me SuperBats fanfiction and artworks.’

An unholy gleam appeared in Jason's eyes, the look that he aimed at Dick and then Tim before pulling up the article on his phone, “Yes folks, it has finally happened the long regaining SuperBats has been defeated by another that has been gaining on them for years. Congratulations Superboy and Red Robin.”

“WHAT?!”

Dick’s enraged bellow sent bats flying as Tim could only stare at Jason.

"Kon and me?" Tim could understand why people shipped them, best friends to lovers was a very popular trope but he didn't think that he and Kon had that big of a following. He felt kinda flattered even if he never thought of Kon like that. No his heart belonged to only one person.

An annoyed look appeared on Damian's face, he didn't understand why Todd and Brown made such a big deal about these foolish polls. "Ridiculous, if anyone should have defeated father it should have been Grayson and Drake they have been pining over one another for years it is sickening."

Dick and Tim both paled, both had been so sure that they hid their feelings for each other so well that no one else in the family knew, let alone their crush.

"Silly." Cassandra moved away from Stephanie coming to stand between Dick and Tim she took their hands in hers. "Love each other. Stop denying it."

“I couldn't have said it better. Everyone is tired of the two of you pining for one another." Babs voice echoed around the cave, no one was surprised that she hacked the comm system.

Rising gracefully to her feet Diana took Bruce's hand in hers. "I think that we should give them a few moments alone."

Never one to deny his princess Bruce led Diana from the cave. 'At least now I don't have to put up with Jason decorating my cave with all that artwork of Clark and I.'

Dick and Tim avoided looking at one another as the cave emptied as their family left them alone.

"Do I need to worry about you going after Kon with a chunk of kryptonite?" Tim found himself asking the last thing he wanted was for Kon to be in danger.

'Now that is an idea.' Dick was tempted, oh was he ever tempted to take some and hunt down Kon and ask him what his intentions were towards Tim. 'No Tim would be mad at me.' Dick forgot the idea right away.

Dick looked at Tim and was once again blown away at how beautiful Tim was. "All I want for you is to be happy and if that is with Kon then so be it."

"Kon and I are friends, best friends but just friends." Tim wanted to say, 'How can I be in love with Kon when I am in love with you?'

"You're in love with me?"

Tim's eyes widened in horror as he realized he had just said that out loud. Slapping his hands over his mouth Tim took a step back.

Only Dick followed his moves smooth and seductive until he had Tim pinned between him and a workbench. "Answer me baby bird. Are you in love with me?"

Tim was tempted he could nerve strike Dick and high tailed it out of the cave but he knows that Dick will just follow him. "I have been for so long. Before I even knew what love was."

Reaching out a hand Dick cupped Tim's face and nudged his head up to look him in the eyes, "I love you too, pretty bird. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to push you away not when you have just returned to us." Dick explained.

Tim was sure that his heart was pounding so loudly that Dick could hear it. "Kiss me?" Tim pleaded softly.

Dick's face lit up in a smile, "Nothing would make me happier, pretty bird." Dick had dreamed of his moment for so long and nothing he had imagined was like the real thing. Tim fit perfectly against him like Tim was made just for him.

+*****+

Jason grinned as he heard Bruce mutter about "slideshows" and "protection" this turned out even better than he thought and if Dickie got one his nervous he had tons of Baby Bird and Superboy artwork saved away for revenge.

#dicktim #dick/tim #wonderbat #sherri writes #my ficlet #this is crack #but a lot of fun to write #jason/roy/kory

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denouemwnt · 5 years

Text

hope

you can also read it in AO3!

pairing: bruce wayne x batmom x batfam

warnings: swearing.

summary: Since your accident with the Joker, the doctors always told you and Bruce that it was impossible for you to have a biological child, you get pregnant, and the whole Bat Family is crazy with the news. But after you and your baby getting kidnapped, will they get to save you from the criminals hands?

request: Hi! I was wondering if you could write one where Batmom is pregnant and she gets kidnapped/injured (but the baby is okay) and batfam goes crazy trying to find her? With a fluffy ending

words: 2016

A/N: I. AM. BACK. I just want to say a huge THANK YOU to everyone that has supported my stories even when I disappeared from here. I really hope I get to write more so I can be more active here. ❤

(you can see my masterlist here!)

________________________________________________________________

Excited laughs echoed through the house, making you curious to know what was happening, but your stomach made a strange noise, insisting for you to continue eating the last piece of chocolate cake Alfred baked. Jason was sitting beside you, reading one of the books you just gave him. It was very uncommon to him to be reading in peace lately, but you were happy he managed to do it after giving to him one of your favorite books of when you were his age. Maybe he just needed a reminder of the things he loved doing.

You got really focused on eating the cake. It was so delicious that you couldn’t resist it, and so the baby slightly kicking your belly. Neither of you could. It was kind of hard sometimes, feeling that much enthusiasm inside you that the baby seemed to have. She was always moving and kicking, so there were a lot of jokes about that it wouldn’t take long for her to be the new Robin, always seeming to have a serious fight inside your belly.

All the talk about Robin and stuff made you insecure again because of that accident a long time ago, the one the doctors said it made impossible for you to have a baby, biologically. But that didn’t stop you from having a great number of amazing kids who gave you so much happiness. You wouldn’t be the same without them. They were as shocked as you when the pregnancy test was positive, you made it three times just to be sure. It was an impossible thing to happen, there wasn’t any chance of it, that was what the doctors said to you and Bruce after you lost your baby.

She was a miracle. A very happy and unexpected one, but she was bringing joy to all the Wayne family since the day you discovered you were pregnant, already charming everyone around her. It changed everything. Aside from the turbulence and nervousness of carrying her inside you for the first time and some people freaking out sometimes with the idea of having a baby in the house in just a few weeks, everything was going well.

Your name was being called from the living room from three very happy kids, holding a lot of plastic bags with the Walmart name printed on it. “Over here in the kitchen!”, you answered, very curious to know what they bought. You had no idea what they were about to do.

Dick, Stephanie, and Duke placed the bags on the kitchen table right after you finished eating your cake. “What have you guys been up to?” You smile at them, happy to see them together. “We bought the baby some awesome gifts!” Steph gave you a warm smile. “Superhero gifts”, Duke continued. The three of them started pulling out the clothes from the bags, spreading them on the table so you could see. “With Bruce’s money,” Dick murmured and you laughed.

“As much I would love to see this, I’ve gotta go.” Jason closed his book and got up from the chair, whispering a quiet but sweet bye to you and leaving the room.

A head popped up from nothing, observing what was happening after fully appearing on the kitchen, like a normal person. “So after 3 hours, you came back.” They stared at each other for a moment before Duke answers, “We argued a little bit about the clothes.” You asked them to show you what they bought and you could see that they had something else in mind, other than just showing the clothes. And when you saw it, you realize what they were doing. Bruce did too, immediately.

Wonder Woman. Superman. Green Lantern. The Flash. Shazam. Aquaman. All the cute superhero clothes for your daughter to wear, but there was someone missing and they couldn’t hide that it was on purpose.

“Are you guys kidding me? I gave you 500 dollars and there’s not even one Batman thing?” All the eyes turned to you with the loud laugh that left your throat. Bruce was really mad at them for not buying anything Batman related, giving them a lesson that the bat was a true hero.

“Well, Bruce, we are very sorry to crush your dreams but… they don’t even sell this bat guy’s clothes there. Who is he the compared to Superman?” Stephanie tried not to laugh. You looked at your husband, he was angry, but you could see that playful glance on his eyes, ready to show them that Batman was a hero indeed.

And it got serious. Bruce gave you a quick kiss and left the room determined to buy all the Batman things to his daughter.

_____

Everything was dark when you woke up, feeling lost, wondering where you were. The room was also cold, the chair you were sitting on was very uncomfortable. You had no idea what was happening, what was this place and how you got there. Tears were trying to fall to your cheeks, but you wouldn’t cry, you couldn’t. However, just the feeling of this situation remembers you the time when you lost your first child and you just wanted so badly to touch your belly and feel your baby, who was more agitated than ever.

The last thing your memory allows you to remember is quickly heading to the nearest fast food place with Damian - who insisted to go with you - to buy the biggest cheeseburger you could get or that would affect the baby. You craved that burger for hours, you couldn’t wait anymore for Bruce to get back from the shop to see all the Batman things he got to your daughter.

You got off the sight of your son. Just one minute and they got you.

“It is my fault, Father. I shouldn’t have lost her for just a minute.” Suddenly, everyone froze with the reaction of Damian. His hands went to his face, covering the tear that fell to his cheek. “Oh. My. God.” Jason whispered and then continued, “This shit is real serious. We are all going to die.”

The door opened and your heart almost jumped from your chest. You could tell what all of this was about, but couldn’t they do it some months before or after you had your baby? It would be so much faster to end with it.

“I don’t really need to explain myself, do I? You must be used to it by now.” The man in a mask calmly said. “I honestly don’t give a damn about you, we just get the money and you get back to your family, ok? Simple as that.” You just nodded, seeing how impatient he was. “A few thousand will impact The Wayne like cents.” He continued.

And you were alone again. You and your baby, waiting for your family to show up. Oh, you would love to get out of this chair and kick their asses, but you couldn’t risk her life like that, as much you would love to. You just needed to stay awake and alert. That was it. You needed to-

Bruce felt a single drop of sweat fall from his face. He just sent the money to the group who kidnapped you and there wasn’t any answer from them by now, making him more nervous them before, wondering if you and the baby were fine. He thought it was simple, but then he realized it wasn’t like he thought it would be. They must have planned something else.

“Something is wrong.” Tim murmured to himself behind his father, trying to find you in the bat-computer. Bruce turned to face the screen, asking him what did he found out. “Mom is not where we thought she was.“

After a few more moments trying to find you, Barbara couldn’t keep to herself what she thought about the situation.

“I think this is not a common kidnapping like someone would do to get money from Bruce Wayne. Maybe, they want something else, maybe her.” Barbara didn’t want to say that, because it would be closer to the truth, but she knew it was a possible option to happen. Bruce stayed quiet for a few minutes, staring at the map of Gotham on the computer, trying to think of where you were.

“Bruce, where are you going?” Dick goes after him. “Batman can’t go there, people will know”.

“I don’t fucking care!” For a moment Bruce shows his fear, but soon hides it behind a plain expression. “I’m going to save them.” He puts on his mask. “Cass, Duke, Jason. You’re coming with me. The rest of you stay here unless I say something. Understand?”

All of them nodded.

_____

You woke up with the sound of someone breaking the door of the room you were imprisoned in.

“Hey, mom,” Jason whispered. “Oh shit, why are you crying? Did they hurt you?” He kneeled in front of you with his eyes wide.

“No, no, we are okay. It’s the hormones talking, darling.” You smiled, assuring that you were fine. “Now, please, take us out of here. I didn’t finish my cheeseburger.”

“Yeah, about that... We have to wait until Cass gives me the sign to get out.”

“She is the best of you. I’m sure it will be quick.” You laughed at his face.

“Well then, if you like her so much then I think she can take you out of this room.” He mentioned to leave you there alone.

“Come on Jay, don’t leave your mother like that. Now take me out of these ropes.”

Cass gave Jason the sign to take you to the Batwing, but when you were living the room a guy appeared in front of you. You ran to the opposite side of the room so Jason started fighting him, soon joined by Bruce and Cass. In the middle of the fight, two more guys showed up.

“Tim, you said that the building was clean!” Duke screamed and ran to you. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, shit.” You stared at the liquid on the floor. “If you guys don’t beat the shit outta them I’m going to have my baby at this fucking floor!” You screamed in pain. “Go end this fight, Duke”

The pain was consuming you. The baby was supposed to be born in a few weeks. Not. Now. Not while her father and her siblings were fighting the guys who kidnapped her mother.

Bruce quickly saw your condition and the last man fell on the floor.

“Let’s go, Y/N. Everything is going to be okay.” He kissed your temple and carried you to the jet.

You husband was beside you, already dressed as Bruce Wayne, taking care of you until the car got you to the hospital. Cass, Jason, and Duke were getting the plane in a safe place.

Bruce got his phone to warn the rest of the family. “Alfred, tell-”

“We are on our way, Master Wayne.”

_____

You and your husband couldn’t stop smiling at her, such a beautiful baby. Every single one of the family couldn’t wait to hold her, but she needed to be checked by the doctors soon. Only you and Bruce were the ones who got to have her in your arms, admiring how much happiness she brought after that awful moment.

“So, thoughts on our last discussion about names?” He places your daughter carefully on your arms.

Until that moment, you and your husband had an idea of her first name, but you hadn’t decided yet the baby’s middle name. With your daughter in your arms and Bruce beside you with a bright smile on his face, you suggested: “What do you think of Hope?”. He stared at his baby for a minute. It was perfect. He was just the happiest man at that moment, with the family he never thought he could have. Bruce sighed, one arm around you while caressing his daughter’s tiny hand.

“Welcome to this world, D/N Hope Wayne. You’ve got a mini Batmobile waiting for you at home.”

________________________________________________________________

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elareine · 5 years

Text

Misperceptions

Rating: Teen Warnings: Swearing Relationships: Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake/Jason Todd (side), Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Tags: Brotherly Bonding, Future Fic, 5+1 Things, Pining, Misunderstandings, Jealousy, Fluff, Guilt, Family AO3: /21199679 Companion to Reasons to be jealous.

Five times Dick was jealous of Tim and Jason’s relationship, and the one time he wasn’t.

One

Dick couldn’t tell you how he ended up here.

Jason didn’t even work with him all that often. They usually stuck to clearly demarcated lines in their cases. The last attempted homicide between them might’ve been a while back by now; that didn’t mean Dick was necessarily comfortable around him, and he refused to apologize for that.

This time, there had been no way to avoid cooperation. Considering everything, it had gone okay. Two human traffickers were behind bars that hadn’t been before, so Dick considered it a win. After the arrests, Jason had suggested a drink, and Dick, not wanting to reject him without reason, had taken him up on it. One or two beers, and then they’d head home.

One beer had turned into fruity cocktails had turned into tequila straight from the bottle. Maybe it was their competitive nature that wouldn’t allow them to back down when the other ordered something, maybe it was the stress of the past few days slash years, but Jason was basically spread all over the booth now, Dick comfortably nestled into the corner beside him, their shoulders touching as they passed the bottle back and forth.

“So, little wing, are you seeing anyone? Or is there a hot chick waiting for the Red Hood in every city by now?” he settled on. That was what a big brother was supposed to ask, right? Never mind that he had to look up at Jason as he said it. He’d never asked Damian that question—but that was a bad thought, and bad thoughts deserved tequila.

Dick took another sip.

“Nah.” Jason took the bottle from him and examined it critically. “Goddammit, Dick, are you trying to kill yourself? How much of this did you drink?”

He was one to talk, slurring as he was. Dick graciously overlooked that fact, insisting: “What do you mean, nah? There’s gotta be someone.”

“Well, yeah, Tim.”

Jason grimaced at his own words, though Dick wasn’t sure why. His head felt slow and fuzzy. “What does Tim have to do with this conversation?”

“I’m in love with him, dickhead.” Jason snorted. “Hah. Dickhead. That’s never not funny.”

Dick had heard that joke about a million times before; he was drunk enough to chuckle anyways.

“How long?” he asked when he’d calmed down. Kinda embarrassing, him not noticing his little brothers dating. Urgh. Phrasing it like that made it sound weird.

Jason shrugged. “Dunno. Years.”

Funny that he was so blasé about that. Dick had pegged him to be the type to remember anniversaries to the minute. Not like Tim really cared about that stuff, though, so it was probably fine.

Now that Dick thought about it, they were sweet to and about each other all the time. Fighting crime together counted as, like, a prime dating activity in vigilante circles. Dick remembered all the times Tim had mentioned he was grabbing breakfast or dinner with Jason.

And it made total sense. Tim was the main reason Jason had calmed down considerably in the killing department, and Jason had been loyal to Tim whatever happened, arguing his side every time, even with Damian. Dick didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it before. They were so obviously a couple.

It was unfair, he thought mutinously. Jason and Tim had just seemed to click from the beginning. They were clearly made for each other.

“What the fuck are you talking about. Are you forgetting what I did when I first met him?”

Jason’s voice was both incredulous and ashamed, but Dick wasn’t paying any attention, his thoughts going down a path they had traveled, many times before. Only this time, he spoke them out loud. “You two are so… I just—I just want Damian to—”

And then, to his utter humiliation, Dick broke down in tears.

Fucking tequila.

He didn’t remember anything that happened after that. That was probably a blessing.

Two

Jason was in his late twenties now. It had been almost ten years since he’d returned to Gotham. Dick got drunk with him less than a week ago. Talking to him shouldn’t feel like making polite small talk with a stranger, but it did.

“Yeah, I tend to turn the heater up, too,” Jason was saying, sounding bored with himself. He’d been tapping away on his phone for most of the day. “Tim likes it a bit chilly, though, so I’m getting used to it.”

Dick didn’t take his eyes off the target as he sighed. If only the man would do anything more exciting than sit in an office all day. He mournfully remembered the Mafiosi of his youth, all of which would rather have been caught dead (and in many cases were) than sit in front of a computer all day.

Jason’s phone buzzed again. His brother didn’t even bother to apologize before grabbing it to reply.

“Tim?” Dick finally asked, more to start the conversation again than because he had any doubts.

Jason hummed in agreement. “He needs important mission intel.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “He’s bored at work, isn’t he?”

“So am I.”

“Oh, excuse me, is my company that terrible?” Call him a hypocrite, Dick still felt insulted.

“No, but trying not to talk about the elephant in the room is. You know. Our little tequila evening.”

…Dick had really hoped they could just keep ignoring that. Jesus Christ, go right for the sore spot, won’t you, Jason? Dick had never regretted the bluntness his family was famous for more than at this moment. Well, there had been that time Steph had described ‘pegging’ to Damian after he, being twelve, had asked why Dick was walking so funny after visiting his then-girlfriend… and the time Bruce had given him The Talk again after noticing he was interested in boys… and the time Babs had—okay, maybe this wasn’t even top five, because there had also been that time where—

Jason’s voice interrupted that thought process, which was probably for the best. “I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Dick searched his face. Jason looked calm, open, a little bit hopeful—as if he was willing Dick to trust his word.

“Okay, cards on the table, I don’t actually remember what I told you,” Dick finally admitted. “So, uh, please describe the elephant to me.”

Jason hesitated. “Oh. I could forget about it, too, if you like.”

“No,” Dick decided, though he did consider it. Still, he was curious now. And surely it couldn’t be that bad? He couldn’t have been drunk enough to— He couldn’t have been. “Tell me.”

Jason’s phone buzzed. This time, he ignored it, still looking strangely hesitant. “You told me that you’re in love with Damian.”

Dick stopped breathing.

Literally; the ringing in his ears grew louder and louder until he felt hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “Dick. Dick! It’s fine. You’re fine. No one else knows.”

Dick took a gulp of breath, then another, forcing out: “Don’t tell him.” Then: “Don’t tell Bruce.”

“Never,” Jason promised. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Dick wasn’t so sure about that, but—what choice did he have? Weirdly enough, it was that thought that calmed him down. There was nothing he could change about it now. All that was left was running damage control.

At least Jason had waited until they were alone to bring it up and hadn’t told anyone else. That had to count for something, hadn’t it?

“I haven’t—I never told anyone.” He’d barely admitted it to himself.

“I know.” Jason’s smile was sheepish, but there. “You, uh, made me promise the same thing about fifteen times already.”

Dick groaned, embarrassment finally setting in. “God, I’m so sorry. Fucking tequila.”

“Tell me about it. My head hurt for a whole two days after.”

The target chose that moment to move, and they both moved into instant alert—but it was only to the bathroom. Once the man was typing away at his desk again, they relaxed, and Jason finally answered Tim’s texts.

Then he leaned back on his hands casually and peered at Dick. “So. Damian, huh?”

Dick seriously considered ignoring him, but—it might feel… nice. To talk about it with someone. Even if it was Jason.

“Yeah. I know you two don’t—” Dick gestured with clasped hands.

“Hey, no, Damian and I, we’re good,” Jason reassured him. “Tried to kill each other a few times, laid down some ground rules about how to not insult people the other person cares about, and voila, no assassination threats in months now.”

Something in Dick wanted to protest. Damian was so much more than threats of violence, always had been, and it annoyed Dick to no end that people still held his upbringing against him.

Then he realized how ridiculous he would sound saying that to Jason of all people, and instead settled on: “So you just don’t talk about Bruce and Tim at all?”

Jason shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Huh.” That sounded exhausting, but who was Dick to judge?

“Gotta say I’m a bit surprised, though. Didn’t think you’d go for him.”

Dick tensed, expecting any of the reasons he told himself at night—Damian was too young, too vulnerable, too much his brother—

Jason continued, grinning: “He’s not even a redhead.”

Dick threw his com at Jason’s head, but he was laughing.

Three

Dick unironically loved it whenever a group of bats gathered to work a case (or an Arkham breakout, as it might be.) Sure, there was a lot of bickering happening, but wasn’t that what family was about?

Honestly, it was even better without Bruce. Less tightly run, more fun. Seeing Damian in Bruce’s cowl instead was still weird, though. It wasn’t like Dick himself hadn’t donned it plenty of times. Hell, even Jason had done it once or twice, which had been one hell of a trip for everyone involved.

All of which was a good thing—Damian should have more than being Bruce’s mirror image. Dick was so proud of the way he’d grown into himself, had taken on his own vigilante identity.

However, it was a reminder that the child he had helped socialize, the Robin to his Batman, had, indeed, grown into a man. A man that didn’t smile often, to be sure; one that still liked to keep the world at bay, that trusted few, showed his heart to even fewer.

Something sharp dug into his side. “Earth to Nightwing, Earth to Nightwing.”

Dick started. Fuck. He’d been staring at Damian again, hadn’t he?

With a grateful smile, he elbowed Jason right back. “It’s called thinking, ever tried it?”

“Not your particular kind, no.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I occasionally suspect there are fluffy clouds moving behind these eyes and nothing more.”

“Aww, Little Hoodling,” Dick sang, sliding his arm around Jason in a deceptively friendly move, “one day, you’ll be a real boy, too.” Then he moved—or tried to.

It was like trying to flip a car.

Dick tried again. Sure, there was little leverage like this, but he’d been able to flip Damian (who wasn’t that much lighter than Jason, and just as tall) the other day without much effort; why was this so much more difficult?

But Jason didn’t move. “Bit heavier than you remembered, Nightwing?”

Dick made a show of sticking out his lower lip to cover how startled he was. Had it really been that long since he’d been roughhousing with Jason? He could swear it had been a thousand times, but… apparently not.

Dick couldn’t regret getting away from Bruce back then. It had been necessary. But he was glad they now had a chance to move on as a family.

Okay, maybe some people would be a bit more worried about the dozens or so homicidal criminals heading their way disrupting any reconciliations. Dick never had been one of these people. Tim and Jason fought together like a well-oiled machine. As for him and Damian…

Well. They were the best, weren’t they?

Coming back to the cave, high on adrenaline and full of cravings for Alfred’s cookies, had always been one of the best parts of the job for Dick. Add in the all-too-rare opportunity to spend some quality time with Damian… the night, or morning, was looking up.

Jason, God bless him, headed right for the showers. Tim, however, lingered, looking ready to set up camp at his workstation.

“Why are you here and not in the shower?” Dick waved a hand in the direction Jason had disappeared to. It wasn’t meant to imply anything dirty, except it was.

“I need to write a mission report,” Tim protested, true to his little workaholic form. Dick would’ve expected that to lessen a bit now that he was getting some. Though now that he considered it, Jason was a workaholic, too.

“We can do that, right, little D?” Dick smiled at Damian, who grumbled but acquiesced. “Go ahead and have an early night, dude. You look beat.”

“Uh. Thanks.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Damian said, already sitting down and spreading maps on the table. Dick, not wanting to annoy him further when he’d basically forced Damian to stay for the rest of the night, made haste to join him.

When they’d gathered the full picture of the events of the night, he frowned. “What I can’t figure out is: Where did they get those supplies from? There does not seem to be a single origin point.”

“Hmm.” Damian was chewing on a pen again. It was adorable. “Flyover?”

“No planes detected.” Dick rechecked the flight radars.

“Plenty of people know how to hide from our equipment. You said it yourself: Someone paid a lot of money to stir up this much trouble.”

“We would’ve noticed the packages, though.”

Damian nodded, conceding the point. “Water?”

“The river is meant to be well-guarded…” Dick’s voice trailed off, and they both sighed at the same time.

“We should go over the guard postings; check for suspicious activity.”

Engrossed as he way with their discussion, Dick barely noticed Tim and Jason leaving, only calling a cursory ‘Take care!’ after them before Damian demanded his attention again. Eventually, they had to begin writing their reports, though, and Dick concentrated on his laptop to do so. The silence was comfortable, and time flew by.

Damian silently vanished at some point, returning some minutes later with a plate of cookies and two mugs full of steaming hot chocolate. It smelled heavenly.

Dick smiled up at him as he took the mug—his favorite superman one, he noted. “Thank you.”

Damian didn’t smile back, but there was a slant to his mouth that told Dick he was pleased. When the other sat down again, he did so right next to Dick on the bench, their thighs touching. “Show me the surveillance video again.”

“Of course.”

Dick was pretty sure Damian had it on his computer, but maybe not. Not like he was going to deny the opportunity to be this close to Damian. Bruce was away, after all. And even if he checked the surveillance footage from the cave, what was there to see? It wasn’t like he was doing anything untoward, Dick told himself. He just took a little more comfort from being close to Damian than he did when it was any of his other siblings, that was all.

Their heads were bent over the video for almost an hour; neither broke focus up until a new figure entered the cave.

“Morning, Duke.” Dick waved at the newcomer.

“Hi, guys. How was the breakout?”

“Fine. We handled it.” Damian seemed annoyed. Dick didn’t know why; he’d been fine until just now, and he and Duke usually got along well in their own way.

Duke seemed unfazed, merely looking around. “Where’re the reds?”

“They’re fine,” Dick reassured him. “Just headed out already.”

“Let me guess.” Duke’s voice was dry. “They’re feeding each other waffles.”

“I think it’s pancakes today.” Damian matched him in tone, and Dick chuckled.

“Let them have some fun, eh? At least Tim gets fed this way.”

“Too. Much. Flirting.” Duke shook his head and moved to the back of the cave, presumably getting ready for his shift.

When Dick looked up, Damian was staring at him in a way Dick had never seen before. He felt himself flush, wanted to ask—but Duke returned with his uniform and a question about the new batarangs, Damian looked away, and the moment passed.

Four

“If he’s coming to Wayne functions now, we might as well make Jason officially a part of the family again.”

Dick did his best to smile at Tim reassuringly, unsure if this was Tim’s way of floating the idea of Jason being reintroduced to the public as his boyfriend. Playing it safe, he pointed out: “Bruce doesn’t know how to ask, and he thinks Jason will say no.”

“He might not.”

Of course he wouldn’t, not if Tim asked him to. Jason was so whipped. Dick wasn’t kidding himself: If Tim hadn’t been complaining for weeks about having to attend this event, Jason wouldn’t be here. He was even making nice with some socialites to give Tim a break, for God’sGod’s sake.

Dick let his gaze wander over to where he’d last spotted Jason and flinched when he saw that Damian had joined him.

Their youngest had been late; out on a call as Flamebird. Dick was sure it had been important and all that, but he didn’t think it warranted him being deprived of this sight for so long.

If Dick liked seeing him in the batsuit, Damian in formal wear was… The dramatic lines of Damian’s suit, a close approximation of the styles his maternal family favored, made him look like royalty.

The people around him seemed to think so, too. There was a woman at Damian’s elbow, laughing and touching his shoulder whenever he spoke. The man across from him couldn’t tear his gaze away, either, visibly undressing Damian in his mind.

Dick kind of wanted to punch him. Or better, yet: Go over and show them that Damian was supposed to be his, mark him and dishevel him and have him look at no one else; let him do the same to show that Dick belonged to Damian in return.

His hands went to his own throat without any conscious input, pressing into bruises that weren’t there. For cover, he loosened his tie, clearing his throat as if to force himself to breathe normally.

When he dragged his thoughts back to his own conversation, he saw that Tim, too, was staring at the group with hunger in his face. For a second, he felt an unexpected kinship with his brother, the urge to share what was plaguing him growing strong—but no.

He just couldn’t.

“Well, you would know better than anyone else,” he absently pointed out the obvious instead.

“I know that if he keeps throwing Damian to the wolves like that, he won’t live long enough to answer Bruce.”

Dick laughed. “Aww, you know Damian only means his death threats 30% of the time these days. Still, I’ll go rescue him. Coming?”

Tim waved him off, and as Dick advanced on the group, he noticed Jason peeling off. Well, about time. Jason had left Tim’s side for a whole twenty minutes already, surely a new record. Dick had no idea how those two thought they were being subtle.

Even before he began to speak, he felt Damian looking at him.

All attention was welcome to Dick, but being the focus of Damian’s… It was like no one else existed to him but Dick, and Dick craved that feeling more than anything in the world. Damian, he knew, judged everything and everyone. Being regarded like that and still found worthy was headier than any wine.

Buoyed by the feeling, he turned his best smile at the group: “Excuse me, ladies, gentlemen, but I need to steal Damian away from you for a few minutes. Our host has been asking for him.”

Damian nodded gravely, turning to leave immediately. There was a fleeting touch to Dick’s elbow that spoke of thanks for extracting him from the situation.

He himself stayed for some minutes before making his own excuses, vaguely ambling back towards the buffet. It never hurt to look drunker than any of them would allow themselves to be at this kind of event.

The sound of laughter drew his eyes to the dance floor.

Jason and Tim were dancing. If Dick tilted his head at a thirty-two-degree angle and squinted just so, he could call it a quickstep. They looked ridiculous; two very-grown men, twirling each other like they were delicate princesses and giggling the entire time.

And yet.

There was a bitter taste in the back of his throat. He’s never been someone to hide his love. If Damian were his, he’d want to proclaim it openly and proudly, just like Jason and Tim were doing now.

They never could. Even if, by some miracle, Damian returned his feelings, they were siblings in the eyes of the world. There was no coming back from that.

“They’re making a spectacle of themselves.”

Dick shivered. He hadn’t noticed Damian coming up behind him. Now the warmth against his back and Damian’s low whisper against his ear were unmistakable.

Damian had grown so tall, almost towering over Dick; tall enough that he could rest his chin on the top of Dick’s head, and for one long moment Dick thought he might do precisely that, pull Dick into him by the hips and envelop him so fully—

But Damian cleared his throat and stepped back. Dick swayed on his feet, shame and arousal burning in his stomach in equal measure.

Immediately, Damian’s hand was on his elbow, steadying him with care most would not suspect him capable of. Dick leaned into it gratefully before he knew what he was doing.

Christ. He needed to get out of there.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m not feeling so well,” Dick blurted out, immediately wincing at how obvious a lie it was.

Incredibly, though, Damian let him get away with it. He merely looked over to Jason and Tim, and nodded as if he understood; though what it was he understood, Dick didn’t know. “Do you require assistance? I will call Pennyworth, let him know you are coming.”

Great, and now Dick felt terrible for making Damian worry.

“No, it’s fine.” He smiled, hoping it was convincing. “I just need to get some rest, I think.”

“Take the night off,” Damian ordered. “We will cover for you at the office.”

There was nothing for Dick to do but agree. Maybe a night off would help him get his shit together. Ever since he confided in Jason and found out about his relationship with Tim, his mood had gotten worse. A good night of sleep could only improve things.

Impossible as it was, he felt Damian’s gaze on him all the way home.

Five

“Damian is back,” Tim told them through the coms. “Everything is set up for tomorrow.”

“Alright. Get some sleep, babybird.”

Jason’s voice was so soft. Something in Dick ached, listening to it.

That was the one good thing to come out of this mess: being privileged to see this side of Jason. Dick had to admit to himself that he hadn’t let himself see it before.

Still, he wouldn’t be Jason’s older brother if he didn’t tease him: “Getting all sappy on me, are you?”

“Excuse me?”

The genuine confusion on Jason’s face was hilarious. “Babybird.”

“Oh, that.” Jason tried to shrug it off. “Just a nickname.”

“You’re so sweet.”

Jason grumbled to himself. “Watch yourself, or next time I’ll let you act the loving couple with Damian.”

Images rose unbidden in Dick’s mind. Damian smiling down at him, pulling him into his arms at the reception, pressing a kiss into his neck… And then later, Damian shirtless, looming over Dick, caging him in, looking for all the world as if he wanted to devour him…

Dick swallowed. Maybe Jason had a point.

They got ready for bed in comfortable silence. At least it wasn’t awkward being half-naked around the other anymore. Dick was pretty sure there was a gun taped underneath Jason’s nightstand, but at least he was polite enough to hide it.

They slid under the covers, though neither of them turned off the string of fairy lights that were probably supposed to add to the romantic atmosphere. As it was, lovers staying up all night was exactly the image they wanted to create, so it served their purpose.

Still neither of them slept, too alert to their surroundings. Dick was content to just lie here, maybe doze off a bit, until morning came.

Then Jason inhaled and rolled over to his side. “No, you know what, I’m gonna ask. Why are you not hitting on the brat again?”

Dumbfounded, Dick sputtered: “Because—reasons!”

“What reasons?”

Jason sounded genuinely curious, and it felt like the kind of thing you shared with your brother, or maybe, a friend. The thought lifted Dick up enough to finally voice the thoughts in his head every night.

“He’s a lot younger than me.”

“Always knew you would turn into a cougar,” Jason teased, but there was nothing mean about it. “Seriously, Damian knows his own mind. He’s not underage, or even close to it. Somehow I don’t think you were attracted to him when he was a teen.”

Dick thought of Damian as a particularly gangly teenager and grimaced. “No.”

“Let me guess—realized one day that he’s a man now and boom, there were all these feelings?”

Dick smiled at him. “Was it like that for you and Tim?”

“Not really. I always saw him as an equal, even when I shouldn’t have,” Jason admitted.

Dick sometimes forgot that Jason was only four years older than Tim. When he’d come back from the dead, he’d been a grown man to Dick (and, he suspected, Bruce,) not a nineteen-year-old. Trying to kill everyone and start a criminal empire did that to you.

“You both got over that, though.”

“Yeah, I guess we did.” Was that a blush spreading over Jason’s cheeks?

It was funny. For all that he was encouraging Dick to open up to him, Jason didn’t seem all that used to talking about his own feelings.

“Anyway,” Jason deflected, “I know you fucked people much older than you, so that’s not the only reason. Neither are the murderous in-laws, though they frankly should be. So what’s holding you back?”

“He’s my brother. I know Bruce wanted me to be his brother.”

Jason considered the point. “Are you actually morally concerned, or is it mostly about not wanting to fail in Bruce’s eyes?”

“The latter,” Dick admitted. It was difficult to explain. He considered both Jason and Tim his brothers, yet ne he wasn’t bothered by them dating at all. With Damian, there was a strong feeling of loyalty, similar to that of a family member, but the love itself had changed. And theirs was a peculiar family, anyway. Roy had often joked that dating another vigilante was a little incestuous because of how small a group they were. Maybe it was no wonder that shit was all getting mixed up in his head.

So that was… fine. Weird, but fine. Dick could rationalize that to himself. But failing Bruce? Even after all these years, all those arguments, the thought still made him physically recoil.

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. “I cannot believe I am saying this, but: There’s nothing you could do that would make that man love you any less.”

And Dick could see that hurt to admit, the ‘unlike me’ unspoken but present, so he joked weakly: “Oh, please, we all know Duke’s his favorite.”

Jason looked grateful, but he persisted: “I mean it, though. Why do you regard Damian as more Bruce’s son than the rest of you? Don’t tell me it’s the blood thing, because we both know that’s utter bullshit.”

Dick didn’t have an answer for that.

“You know there’s an easy way to settle this, right?” Jason asks when Dick didn’t speak. Throwing the blanket off, he got up and rooted through his suitcase. Dick watched as he pulled out his laptop and declared: “We’ll just call Bruce.”

Dick sat up in alarm. “You’re going to bother Bruce in the middle of a JL mission to ask about—this?”

Jason shrugged, though he couldn’t fool Dick. His neck muscles were tense. “Damian’s gonna kill me tomorrow anyway; I have nothing to lose.”

“Why would Damian kill you?” Dick felt very lost.

“No reason, Dickiebird, no reason.”

Dick decided to ignore that, and Jason’s amused tone, to focus on the important thing here. “We can’t call Bruce. He’s on another planet, and anyway, there’s no need—”

“Look, you want me to talk to him? I could ask him.”

Dick couldn’t think of a single less subtle thing for them to do. Bruce would know Dick was listening right away, and if not, as soon as he checked their mission log when he returned.

Maybe that was Jason’s point, though. Was he really going to keep hiding this?

Dick took a deep breath. “I’ll call.”

When Jason slid the laptop over to him, he looked almost proud.

It seemed like ages until the connection was set up. Finally, Batman’s familiar cowl appeared on the screen.

“Nightwing,” Bruce’s voice was crackly with static, but the concern was audible. “What happened?”

“Nothing bad,” Dick reassured him. “I hope. Just. Do you have a sec?”

Bruce looked torn. Dick saw Jason twitch and guessed he was tempted to interfere, to tell Bruce this was important. Pity that neither of them could be sure if that would help or hinder.

In the end, Bruce nodded.

It was, perhaps, a good thing Bruce seemed to be pressed for time. There was no way for Dick to prevaricate; he had to come straight out with it: “I think I’m in love with Damian.”

And then he held his breath as he waited for Bruce to lecture him.

Bruce didn’t miss a beat. “I trust you and have no reason to doubt your choice in partners. I trust Damian to know what he wants, too. Please don’t hold back on my account.” He paused. “Just… don’t tell me any details.”

It was a terrible joke, but Dick laughed nonetheless.

He couldn’t be sure, but there was a sound in the background that sounded like an explosion. Bruce looked away from the screen for a moment. “I have to go. Be safe.”

“Thank you,” Dick told him, sincerely.

Bruce shook his head. “Not for that.” The connection closed.

The room was quiet as Dick tried to digest the fact that one of his top ten fears (after, you know, everyone dying) had been laid to rest in the span of five minutes, just like that. What did you even say?

“That went better than expected,” he finally settled on. “Thank you.”

Jason shrugged. “Yeah, look, there are a few trauma points he can’t deal with it—” he pointed at himself, then shaped a gun with his fingers, “but he’s a detective. He knew and had plenty of time to chew it over. That speech was practiced to hell and back. You probably just released him from the misery of wondering how the fuck to bring it up with you.”

Dick chuckled. If it sounded a bit wet still, neither of them mentioned it.

“Also—I like the kid, I do,” Jason said, “but we’re all glad if he doesn’t end up with a civilian.”

It felt different, seeing Damian now that Dick was allowing himself to hope, to want. He had no idea if Damian would even be receptive, had never allowed himself to consider the notion before. When they all met in the cave after the mission had ended, Dick let himself smile at Damian openly, full of delight at being able to do so without wondering what would be caught on camera.

Damian didn’t smile back. He grabbed Dick by the arm, scowling, and told him: “We’re leaving.”

“What about the—” Jason began to ask, but Damian was already dragging Dick away.

Resistance seemed futile. He shot an apologetic glance at Jason, who waved him off, looking way too amused.

It was only when they were alone that Damian let go of Dick, glaring daggers at him and the world, but not speaking. Dick patiently waited him out. Damian would tell him what was eating him, or he wouldn’t. No prodding in the world would speed up the process.

“Why Todd,” Damian finally demanded to know.

Dick frowned. Apparently, Jason’s statement about him and Damian getting along hadn’t been truthful. Well, after all that Jason had done for him last night, and the weeks before that, he wasn’t going to just let Damian question his place. “He has proven himself an able and trustworthy partner on these missions.”

“I’m not talking about the mission,” Damian hissed.

“Then what—”

But now that he had begun, Damian wouldn’t stop talking. “I don’t understand. You were looking at me, and I thought maybe—finally—but then there was Todd, and I don’t want you to be in love with him. He’s going hurt you. What does he have that I don’t? Tell me and I will change it.”

Oh. Oh.

“Damian,” Dick couldn’t help but smile as he reached out to touch Damian’s arm, “I’m not in love with Jason. He’s with Tim.”

Dick hadn’t realized how tense Damian had been until that tension left him to be replaced with hope: “You’re not in love with Todd?”

“I’m not.”

Damian’s other hand rose to cover Dick’s. “Then—”

“Yes.” Dick knew his feelings must have been written all over his face. He didn’t care. “Yes.”

Damian made a sound like a sob and bend down to kiss him.

Dick’s plan: Test the waters. See if Damian was interested at all. Maybe start some slow romancing if there was hope.

Dick’s reality: He was swept away by the force of Damian’s kiss. It was unpracticed, to be sure, but there could be no doubts about the feelings behind it. Damian’s hand on his cheek spoke of devotion, his teeth on Dick’s lip of passion, and his eyes were on Dick’s the whole time, never once looking away.

It was being devoured, and Dick loved it.

And One Time He Wasn’t

Unsurprisingly, Dick didn’t get to do much work that day. Or the next. When they finally emerged from their rooms to debrief with Tim and Jason, he was feeling stiff and bruised in the best of ways. To his surprise, Damian pulled him close as they walked, his hand heavy on Dick’s hip. Dick melted into him, pulling him close in turn.

Now that he had it, Dick didn’t know how he could have denied the two of them this feeling for so long.

Thus tightly wound, they entered the cave—and stopped. It took a second for the image to sink in: Jason was sitting in Tim’s lap, their fingers linked in front of his stomach.

Like so many things with those two, it should’ve been funny—Tim was by no means tiny, but he was considerably smaller than Jason. Instead, it looked right.

Jason grinned at him. “So. We’re together now.”

Dick, still high on the events of the last day, said: “Oh, how nice.” Then: “Wait, you weren’t before?”

Tim groaned and hid his face in Jason’s back, only the red of his ears still visible. Jason, however, didn’t look embarrassed at all, just distinctly unimpressed. “Dick. Are you telling me these two geniuses thought the two of us were dating, while you thought I was already dating Tim?”

Dick blinked. “Tim thought that too?”

“That’s it,” Jason said, “I’m revoking your detective licenses. All of you.”

#elareine writes #damidick #jaytim #all credit for jason sitting in tim's lap goes to scott who comes up with the best things

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schweeeppess · 5 years

Text

Jason and Tim sat facing each other in silence. Poisonous green eyes held the gaze of sky blue ones, the weight of a thousand unsaid words like hands around their throats, making verbal communication a ridiculous notion.

The second Robin and the third were never really supposed to get along, Tim thought to himself, and at first they hadn’t. The sheer weight of the fact made their situation ironic—almost painfully so.

But neither of them said anything. What was there to say? What could be said? Tim had never prepared for something like this; someone doing what Jason just had wasn’t something Tim had even remotely fathomed...

No, that was a lie. He’d known. He’d known that there were people who would do everything Jason just had and more for him (maybe not more, but it was the thought that counted)—he just hadn’t really believed or grasped just what that meant until now.

Brothers by blood they were naught, but all the same they were brothers by law, and brothers in arms, failing the first practicability.

Silence laughed in Tim's minutely ringing ears and taunted him as it, with the weight and strength it had, suffocated him.

"We're wasting time," Jason rasped, voice nearly cracking. The dark bruises that wound around his neck might've looked painted on if Tim hadn't witnessed the hands choking him that'd been the cause of the dark purple collar.

Tim just kept staring. He knew the words he wanted to say, but in his mouth his tongue felt like it was the heaviest thing in the world, refusing to move.

Jason was unimpressed and shifted, the drag of the chains on his arms on the floor making them rattle as he did.

"Tim," he said, and his voice actually did crack then, but whether it was from the strain of talking on his throat or emotion Tim couldn't tell. "Say something."

He couldn't. He wanted to tell Jason that he was trying, but his mouth wouldn't move.

Sighing, Jason moved forward, reaching as far as the chains would let him, and he put his hand on the back of Tim's head, pulling their foreheads together.

Tim only realized he was crying when a tear dripped off his chin.

"Jason," he whispered in a trembling voice. "Jason."

"Yeah, kid," Jason croaked. "It's Jason."

Like Jason moving him had broken a spell Tim jerked forward and flung himself at Jason's chest, throwing his arms around him, and he started crying silent tears.

With a long sigh, Jason hugged him back and pressed his mouth and nose to Tim's hair.

"You shouldn't have done that," Tim finally managed to say. "You really shouldn't have done that." Wow, was he a broken record or what?

"I had to, Tim."

Tim shook his head viciously in a nonverbal response, face pressed into the crook of Jason's neck, and tightened his hands in Jason's shirt.

"I did."

"No," Tim insisted. "No, no, no you didn't."

He both felt and heard Jason's long sigh.

Jason's shirt was damp with Tim's tears, but he didn't seem to mind when they pulled apart, just gazing at Tim with sadness swimming in the acidic green of his eyes.

Tim felt weak in comparison to Jason. He felt weak, and he hated it, but he did. Tim was crying but Jason wasn’t, and Jason was going to—

Jason’s voice interrupted his self-loathing.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he whispered. “Really.”

Quiet once again descended upon them like a thick blanket, and Tim scooted closer to Jason, resting his head on his brother’s chest with Jason’s arm over his shoulders. If he closed his eyes Tim could pretend it was Bruce hugging him in the Batcave as he worked on some files, instead of Jason, who was dying; he could pretend it was just another night post-patrol.

In his ear Tim could hear Jason’s heart beating. Each time it did, Tim thought he could hear it stutter and weaken, so he forced the thought out of his head. He killed it as quick as it was, vanquishing it because Jason was dying.

The sound of the door to their little dungeon-like holdings opening had Tim opening his eyes and gazing at the door despondently.

Ra’s al Ghul stepped into the room flanked by his guard, Talia nowhere to be seen though Tim wasn’t sure he cared.

Frowning, the Demon’s Head inspected Jason, then Tim, only with his gaze.

Neither of the brothers spoke as Jason’s arm tightened around Tim.

Ra’s clicked his tongue.

“Jason,” he greeted. “Timothy.”

“Ra’s,” Jason spat back hoarsely.

Ignoring him, Ra’s spoke again.

“You know, Jason Todd, I do find it curious that you would trade your life for Timothy Drake’s. After all, he was your replacement. Not to mention you tried to kill him, if I am not mistaken?” His green eyes shone with intrigue as he tilted his head, hands neatly interlocked before him. “Why did you do it?”

The answer to his question was one Tim wanted to know too. While they had been making progress in getting along, Tim hadn’t thought they were “I’d die for you” level yet.

He’d been so wrong.

Jason took his time answering, picking his words carefully, and when he knew just what he wanted to say, he rasped, “You wouldn’t get it.”

Ra’s seemed amused.

“Try me,” he said.

Sighing, Jason answered him.

“He’s my little brother.”

His response didn’t seem to be what Ra’s al Ghul wanted to hear, and that was made clear when the Demon’s Head said, “I would hardly say you are of such importance to each other just yet. You did try to kill him, on no less than two separate occasions.”

Tim couldn’t see Jason’s face, but he could hear the sly grin in his voice.

“Told’ya you wouldn’t get it.”

Humming lowly, Ra’s waved a hand at his guard and turned to leave as he called back, “Timothy will be sent back as we agreed. You, however, Jason Todd, face a much worse future. Though I suppose you already know that.”

As Ra’s left, the two assassins he’d left behind forced Tim away from Jason, ignoring any protests as they did.

Tim shouted and struggled as best he could, but his efforts might as well haven’t existed. He was too sore and tired to put up much of a fight, but he couldn’t just leave Jason. Not after he’d called Tim his little brother. No. Dick should have been there to witness it, not Ra’s.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, stop.” Tim squirmed and bucked, trying to free himself even if he knew it was pointless, because he had to. “Let go!”

Jason was silent as he watched them take Tim, his eyes hard in acceptance but full of grief at the same time.

“I’m sorry, Baby Bird,” he said.

A nickname. A nickname. Jason had just—

“No!”

“Goodbyes are shit, kid,” Tim managed to hear. “So I’ll meet you where the stars meet the sea.”

Then he was finally yanked out of the room and the door was shut.

Tim grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, the roaring in his head and frantic emotions rolling in his chest making him want to scream.

So he did.

He yelled.

He yelled, because it wasn’t supposed to have gone the way it had. He yelled, because it hurt not to. He yelled, because it wasn’t—

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair, and the sheer agony and injustice of it hurt like a flaming sword to the chest, and it just wasn’t fair.

What must have been a needle was jabbed into his neck, and before Tim knew it his world had gone dark.

But even as he slept he cried.

#impulsive writing #ehsksndn #this probably sucks #but oh well #jason todd #tim drake #hhhhhhhh #my writing #my work #my fanfiction #angst #crappy writing with sep #uhhhhh what else #oh yeah #ra's al ghul

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

Note

Um... /post/188248925631/dick-and-damian-dont-love-each-other-more-than Explain, please. Also curious about your opinion on the Dick and Damian being the mirror of Bruce and Dick, especially things like That scene in Nightwing #20 and fanon's heart nut material that is Dick being Damian's father figure along with brother.

LOL that was a goof post that basically is just another way of me saying “stop making the Batkids have favorites, let them all love and appreciate each other just in different ways.” With the fact that Dick and Damian tend to interact with each other more comfortably than with their other siblings not being proof of favoritism, but rather just...a lot of the same things and experiences appeal to them in very similar ways, so they have plenty of available bonding activities at any given moment.

Like I see them both as adrenaline junkies in a way that say, Tim perhaps isn’t....like Tim isn’t afraid to do any of the things he does as a vigilante, of course, but he’s a more cerebral character, more of a thinker, happy surrounded by computers and data and investigation files as much as anything else...whereas Dick and Damian I both see as very physically oriented people, they like action, danger and excitement that gets their blood pumping and adrenaline going, like....on its own merits.

So they’re like “HELL YEAH, LET’S DO THE THING” when the thing isn’t always the most....logical course of action, but hey, at least they’re not gonna be bored, lol. Y’know?

As far as Dick and Damian mirroring Bruce and Dick....I both agree and disagree with it.

I disagree in the sense that canon and fanon frequently views them as an INVERTED mirror of Bruce and Dick, with Dick as the happy Batman trying to cheer up the brooding Robin Damian, as opposed to when Bruce was the brooding Batman cheered up by his happy Robin Dick.

Because I think that devalues Bruce and Dick’s VERY early relationship, the inception of it, the foundation of their bond....and perhaps ironic given how critical I am of Bruce and his badly written or acted upon parenting a lot of the time....I think this perception of Bruce and Dick undercuts some of Bruce’s BEST times as a parent to Dick, specifically.

Because Bruce WASN’T just a dark, brooding Batman for most of the time Dick was Robin, historically speaking. Before the late 70s/early 80s, which was also around the time they started transitioning Dick out of Batman’s sphere and into his own role as Nightwing and most associated with the Titans, like....before all that, Batman tended to be as silly, tongue in cheek, and yes, even cheerful, as he was at times dark and brooding. Like, in pre-Flashpoint stories that trace back to Dick’s early years, Bruce SMILED, even when in the cowl. He laughed, he joked, he called Dick by personal endearments. He was PATERNAL and affectionate.

And given that in pretty much every version of his origin story, and like....in logical view of the events that unfolded in it....Dick himself did not START as a cheerful, happy go lucky Robin without a care in the world. He was traumatized, he was grieving. Depending on which origin you go with, he had massive trust issues, in all origins he has abandonment issues....early Dick Grayson had a darkness every bit as much as anyone else, because he was a lost and grieving child trying to find his way in the world with his usual support, lifeline, the familiarity that had defined so much of his early life in the form of his parents, his friends, his circus....like all of that was gone, and he had to start over in terms of finding things good and worthwhile in a world that had taken all of that away from him.

And it was Bruce who helped him do that. Who was HIS light, HIS brightness every bit as much as people tend to credit Dick with being his, if not more. Like, I would argue that it was NEVER that Dick made Bruce lighter and happier by simply being himself and always being cheerful and joking. More accurately, I’d suggest that it was more that Dick made Bruce lighter and happier by giving him reason to make a conscious CHOICE to be those things...for Dick’s benefit, specifically, so as to help steer Dick away from becoming a replica of his darkest and most brooding self, by setting a more carefree, light-hearted example for Dick to look at and use to help decide how he wanted to shape himself and what he wanted to shape himself into.

So the irony is, I think Dick and Damian are MORE of a mirror to early Bruce and Dick than people actually deem them to be. That they weren’t actually an inverted mirror, with Dick always playing the role of the cheerful inspiration that brightened his counterpart’s demeanor. I see it as Dick occupying the exact same role Bruce did in Damian’s life, leading him by example, out of his own personal darkness, the way Bruce had once done for him...no matter what differences came between them later in life.

The part where I DO think they’re actually an inverted mirror of Bruce and Dick, is in the paternal bond between Dick and Damian, that fandom highlights so consciously. Its not that Bruce wasn’t paternal, as I said earlier. Its more that like....there was always that slight distance or buffer (that grew as Dick grew older) that came about because of the uncertainty between Dick and Bruce as to what they actually were to each other, what label to use for each other....friend, brother, partner, father/son? And I do firmly believe that as the adult and guardian, it was Bruce’s responsibility to take the lead in establishing what they were to each other...or at least, what they COULD be, if Dick wanted it to be.

Like, I mean, the popular take is that Bruce never adopted Dick as a kid because he didn’t want to replace Dick’s father in his eyes. But like, there’s all of one story in pretty much their entire history when Dick ACTUALLY says anything like that himself...and its back when he’s like, ten or eleven, and they’re trying to keep him in Bruce’s custody and so like, a judge is forcing ten year old Dick to like....put a label to them himself. And Dick is many things, but presumptuous on his own behalf has NEVER been one of them, so I have super negative feelings towards that always being pointed at as why Bruce didn’t adopt Dick as a kid and saying see, it was for Dick’s benefit because he was just doing what Dick wanted....like, no. An orphaned kid who lost everything once, has massive abandonment issues, and ended up taken in by a billionaire who gave him more than he could have imagined....like that kid is NEVER going to be the one to push the envelope and say “hey this isn’t quite enough for me, could you please also adopt me, Bruce, even though you’ve never given me any clear indication that this was okay with you or something you even wanted?”

Like. Its just not realistic. Or fair to put that on the kid, to be the one to open up that avenue for exploration. This is why people who foster or adopt older kids are HEAVILY stressed to make clear to the child like....what their OPTIONS are. Like if they foster them initially, its not presuming anything about the child’s wants to just....make it clear that hey, if this is ever something YOU want, we would be very much open to adopting you and changing our dynamic accordingly, but if not, that’s fine too.

Kids just aren’t going to have the confidence to ASK for that. They’re just not. Especially when they come into the relationship with the kind of emotional baggage and familiarity with total upheaval that Dick had.

So my point being....I don’t think it was ever truly that Dick wanted to not be adopted, or expressed or hinted at that in any way. I think its more likely that Bruce projected his own wants on Dick, based on the fact that he initially identified with him and his circumstances so much, seeing himself reflected in Dick’s tragedy when losing his own parents. I think Bruce’s hesitancy to raise the issue of adoption when Dick was a kid was far more likely to do Bruce assuming Dick wouldn’t want that....because Bruce projected himself into DICK’S shoes, and based on THAT, operated off of what HE would have wanted as a kid....which was to NOT see his parents replaced in any real way, even though Alfred of course was very much a paternal presence throughout his later childhood.

So its not even that Bruce didn’t want to adopt Dick either - I think he very much did. He just told himself that Dick wouldn’t possibly want that, because Bruce couldn’t imagine have wanted that himself when he was Dick’s age, in Dick’s situation. And so Bruce held back from ever really raising it while Dick was a kid, because he was afraid he’d only get rejected if he did....again, just based purely on his personal assumptions and history.

The irony, for me, and why I see this as an inverted mirror to Dick and Damian’s bond....is that I think once Dick was in Bruce’s shoes....he did the EXACT SAME THING BRUCE HAD DONE....just in the other direction. He, just like Bruce had with him...projected himself into Damian’s shoes, and based his decisions off his assumptions about what Damian wanted or would want....which were in turn, based on his memories of what HE had wanted when he was the one in Damian’s position. Which was for Bruce to fully act like a father to him, to not hold back or hesitate or be afraid to step into that role.

So because of that, Dick tried to avoid what he saw as responsible for so much of the distance between him and Bruce - that hesitancy to establish a clear relationship and bond that left no real doubt how either felt - and so he in contrast all but threw himself into the paternal role with Damian...also using it at the same time to hide from his own grief and other issues stemming from Bruce’s death as well as having to be Batman. He EMBRACED being there and available as an actual father figure to Damian, if Damian made moves in that direction - which of course Damian inevitably did, because he was a kid desperately in need of affection, and here Dick was offering it freely and openly.

I think this additionally played into why Dick was so resistant to believing Tim about Bruce - it wasn’t that he didn’t WANT Bruce to be alive or that he didn’t trust Tim or WANT Tim to be right....it was that on some level, because of what he saw as so crucial to being for Damian’s benefit, and to avoiding making the same ‘mistakes’ with Damian that he felt Bruce had made by holding himself back from him at times, emotionally....Dick couldn’t afford to see himself as a placeholder in Damian’s life. Especially not without any guarantees that Bruce actually was alive or could come back....let alone how long that would take to happen. If he did that, accepted that, it would be all to easy to put off establishing that firm presence and role in Damian’s eyes for longer and longer....until one day he might look up and years might have passed and Damian was sixteen and pissed off and moving out because he didn’t know what he was to Dick and Dick was afraid to tell him, because he was afraid of replacing Bruce in Damian’s eyes.

So I think on some level, Dick just couldn’t allow himself to believe Bruce might come back, because if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to commit to what he truly, honestly felt Damian needed him to be, for Damian’s sake.

With the end result being that strong father/son seeming bond between them....and Dick not having ANY clue how to handle it when Bruce DID ultimately come back, and he probably went in his head....oh shit, I fucked up, I replaced Bruce in Damian’s eyes, or at least made it weird or difficult for them...I gotta get 1000 miles away from here STAT, otherwise I’ll fuck things up for them more and they’ll never have the father/son relationship I want them to have and they deserve to have, and it’ll be all my fault. And PS no this does not have anything to do with my devastation that I went all in on this whole ‘treating Damian like my own son’ thing and now I can’t do that anymore, I have no real claim, that’s not my place and I gotta just make my peace with Bruce occupying the role I came to want and love having myself.

*Shrugs* So yeah. All of that.

Oh and also....it does feed my ire on the ‘treating Dick like he’s only sorta Bruce’s son because of the smaller age gap between Dick and Bruce and how young Bruce was when he took Dick in’ front. Because Dick and Damian have just as small an age gap and Dick was pretty much just as young and Damian just as old as Bruce and Dick had been, originally...

And yet notice how fandom has NO trouble characterizing Dick and Damian having an almost father/son dynamic even WITH Bruce still present and even WITH them only having occupied those roles in each other’s lives for a year.

But meanwhile, Dick raised solely by Bruce from ages 8 through the end of his childhood, and some people still can’t wrap their heads around how they could possibly be TRULY a father and son to each other because this reason or that one?

Meh. Sounds fake. Hard pass. LOL.

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