#There is no reason for Damian to be short besides *vibes* or if they stopped being cowards and say that Tall Future Damian is a myth

[azol-otl]

Look I know in canon Damian is short and it’s supposed to be funny that he grows from being a shrimp to being a giant, but that’s boring. We literally already have Jason doing that.

What would be much funnier however is if Damian just radiated so much Short King energy that everyone just acts like he’s five feet tall. He could be Dick’s height and Jason’s weight and everyone would be like, “Look at this little guy.”

[anjuschiffer]

for hanahaki week (since you mentioned requests) may i request daminette as a pairing? they just give me very strong “i would rather suffer through this than admit my feelings” vibes

Ask and you shall receive...hope you enjoy this fic :D

Also, I had a more "morbid" ending but scrapped it :p

Pair of Fools, Don't You Know Loving Someone Can Kill You?

Tags: @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @elijahcrevan

-AO3-

“Love? Where did this come from?” Ladybug laughed as she looked out towards the city of Paris, Robin once again noticing the weary look in the older hero’s eyes. 

True, their patrols lately have been going long into the night, but Damian had seen that look before, or rather, he’s never seen that look ever leave her eyes since the day he met her.

In the short three months in which they have been together, that was the only look in her eyes that Damian had ever seen in them. Even when she would grin from ear to ear or wake up from a nap an hour before patrol started…that look haunted her eyes. 

In the three months Damian was paired with Ladybug to help with her mission to take down Hawkmoth, she always looked tired and distant despite her sunshine persona she held whenever she was around him, talking to his father or the Justice League and even fellow older teens. 

But it wasn’t the look you would see on someone after a long day of patrol or after winning a long standing battle against a villain…

It was a look he had seen once before…

In his father…

And even his mother…

A melancholic look of reminiscence…or yearning… “Why the sudden interest in love talk?” She gave him a grin, a grin Grayson would give him whenever he would tease him. And even if they were the same type of grin, hers made his gut flip a bit. “Got a girl you like? Is it that girl who wanted you to join their detective club at school? I know there may be a two year gap between our generations, but I think I can still give you some solid advice if you need any.”

Damian scoffed.

“That’s the same thing Gr-Nightwing told me.” He turned his head to see the city quietly bustle beneath them. “But that’s besides the point. There’s no one. Love is just a distraction and a weakness. I’ll never allow myself to fall in love if it means endangering the mission and making me incapable of doing my job properly.” He said, knowing he was just saying that to keep himself in line. 

He doubted she would ever agree with him. 

“Got that right.” Or maybe not.

“Are you saying that from experience?” When he turned to look at her, he didn’t expect her to look at him with sorrow in her eyes.

“I guess you’re right…Evil never rests, so our jobs require all of our attention, no distractions allowed.” Damian continued to look at Ladybug, watching how the night slowly breezed by her, her short low ponytail swaying ever so slightly with the wind. “You’d think I would’ve known that from the amount of heartbreaks I’ve been through,” Ladybug gave out a soft chuckle, “but what can I say?” He felt his heart stop when her eyes softened ever so slightly. Her eyes seemed to have recovered a bit of a glow to them as she looked at him. “I’ve always been a hopeless romantic after all.”

Oh…is that…is that the reason behind that look? Because of love? Is that what she wanted so badly?

“You’ve been in love before?” Robin asked, causing Ladybug to whole heartily laugh louder, Robin feeling heat crawl to the tips of his ears. 

“Who hasn’t been, Robin? Pretty sure everyone has fallen in love once or twice in their lives…I sure have.” But shortly after she said that, her smile fell, Robin noticing the spark in her eyes fade away. “Haven’t you?”

“No.” Robin confessed too quickly for his liking. “Although, my brother says it’s like a blanket, like an extra layer of warmth that envelopes you…Did it feel like that to you as well?” He dared to ask, hoping it would bring back that spark into her eyes. It suited her better than the yearning in her eyes.

He watched as Ladybug opened her mouth agape to speak, only to shut it and take a deep breath. She looked back to the cityscape.

“It depends on the person, really. 

My second love felt like a bag of butterflies swarming my insides whenever I saw him. When I tried to speak to him, it felt like I could not breathe, my heart beated so loudly in my ears that I couldn’t even concentrate on my thoughts and fumbled on my words like an idiot.” She smiled, an actual smile. “And yet, he felt just like how your brother described love to be. 

Warm. 

Gentle. 

And when we dated…it was blissful…” Her smile faded. “Or at least the first few times it was.”

“Was?”

“We broke up after a few weeks. We couldn’t stay with each other due to some difference in our ‘principles’…even if he claimed to still have loved me despite my opinions on his views.”

“That’s absurd!” Damian yelled, causing Ladybug to jump and turn to him. “What kind of imbecile does that?”

“What are-”

“If you truly wanted something, someone, wouldn’t you do anything to try and obtain it? To keep it? Fight for it? Or at least come to a compromise to stay together?” Damian raged, realizing that was unbecoming of him. “At least…that’s what I gather from the talks I would have with those in relationships…” 

He watched her blink a few times before giving him a small smile.

“If only that were always the case, but…love doesn’t work that way.” Ladybug placed a hand on his shoulder. “In love…sometimes…sometimes, even if the two individuals love each other…it doesn’t always work out.”

“So they just give up on the relationship? On each other?” Ladybug shook her head.

“Even if the two of you do understand where you come from, even if you try to talk it out, if neither party points out the elephant in the room, if there is no sense of trust in the relationship, someone is bound to get hurt…sometimes both.” A gloss covered her eyes. “They may be your rock when things get hectic in your life, your lullaby after a hard day at school…but they should never feel as if they’re the only ones trying to keep an effort of making the relationship work while you try to balance your two lives…especially when they didn’t have a way to protect themselves from your nemesis any more.” Damian’s eyes widened when he connected the dots.

“You dated one of your partners?”

“Yea. Although, he didn’t know my identity until after the break up. Although, to be honest, I think he was onto me when we were dating.”

“Onto you?”

“He pieced it himself, actually.” Ladybug said with a smile. “He figured I was hiding something after analyzing the amount of times I would flake on a date, and be late to otherwise easy-to-walk-to places. When he confronted me about it, I simply told him I couldn’t tell him what it was.

That one question…that one doubt led to us breaking up.”

“But then how did he figure out your identity?”

“Funny enough, during an akuma attack. He never told me how, but he knew. And because he knew, he endangered himself and became a target…almost got captured for knowing my identity… and that’s when I realized…I wasn’t meant to fall in love…

If I want to save Paris…I can’t afford to be in a relationship…not until we’re done dealing with Hawkmoth, that is. And even then, dating while being a hero doesn’t seem possible for me…not even now.” Ladybug admitted, looking back at the city.

The two stood there in silence, Damian feeling more awkward by the second, deciding to speak in hopes of filling the void.

“You mentioned a second and third love…whatever happened to your fir-“

“He, on the other hand, was a complete jerk!” Ladybug immediately spat out, causing Robin to jump. “Just thinking about what he- ugh!” Ladybug huffed. “You know what he did?” She didn’t wait for Robin to respond. “So I invited over to the neighborhood pool, because I kinda had a crush on the guy, you know? And we were in what would be considered in the US as middle school, so there weren’t many places we could spend time in. Anyways…

We’re having fun swimming, splashing about, the regular games you play at the pool, right? That’s when we decided to dive from the highest diving board they had, which for the record was pretty high for middle school me. While it was roughly 5 meters in height, which is kind of around 16 feet - besides the point! 

We’re on the top and mind you everything was going well, Kim was being very nice to me, being a gentleman. Just as we’re about to dive, he stops me and kneels.

And of course, I’m panicking because not only is he kneeling, he’s got a small box in his hand and has the shyest face on as he stretched it out towards me.

He starts talking about how much fun he had today, how happy he was spending time with me…he asked me to be his girlfriend. And before I could answer him, he opened up the gift.” 

Damian watched an unshed tears pooled into her eyes, a dry laugh escaping her. “You know what was inside that box?

Fucking spiders. A dozen tiny spiders crawled from out of the box and jumped onto my arms and body and because I was frantically trying to get them off of me,” Ladybug laughed again, a tear slipped down her face. “I slipped off the diving board, water filling my lungs the moment I hit the water.

A lifeguard had to help me out because of how frantic I was the minute I submerged, my arms flailing about as I clawed at the surface and gulped water into my lungs.

The funny part of it all? I wasn’t mad about falling off the diving board. I was angered at the fact that Kim did it because Chloe told him to do it because it would be “a funny prank,” even though he knew I've been deathly terrified of spiders since we were toddlers.

He was suppose to be my friend, he knew about the things I hate and yet…yet he took-”

“So he’s the reason you declined the pool invite those months ago,” Robin snarled, recalling her great deference to attending a pool party held by Garfield. “If it weren’t for him-” Robin didn’t expect to get tackled by Ladybug, freezing upon feeling her arms wrapped around him.

Despite the girl being older, she just barely passed his shoulders.

“Thank you.” He heard her softly whisper. “Out of all the people who I’ve told this to, you’re the only one who has gotten angry for me…” He attempted to hug her back, but instead awkwardly just placed a hand on her back. “Everyone else told me I should’ve seen it coming since it was Kim…so… thank you.”

All Robin could do was hum in response, fearing his voice would crack if he were to tell her that he would make sure he would not allow that to happen to her as long as he was by her side.

-

“-reason why she didn’t go to go was all because of that damned-”

“So you like her?” Dick asked with a Ceshaire grin, Damian whipping his head to look at his brother as if he’d grown a second head. 

A week had passed since his conversation with Ladybug, Damian catching Dick up on the important news of the week while they hung out in Damian’s room. 

“Didn’t think you’d be into older girls. Don’t blame you. They certainly-”

“I tolerate her!” Damian corrected, feeling the tips of his ears burn. “And she’s only two years older than me!”

“You said it, not me.”

“And apparently you can’t listen because if you had been paying attention, you would have known she doesn’t have time to fraternize. Not with Hawkmoth being her main concern.” Damian went silent, Dick only then realizing he might have pushed it a bit too much. 

“Actually, I was listening. For example, you mentioned an art gallery and how you were applied to have some of your arts displayed. Any luck on that?”

-

Hours passed until Dick had to leave to go back to Bludhaven to cover for a colleague at the precinct, leaving Damian all on his own and with his thoughts.

So you like her?

The question kept replaying in his head, Damian struggling to find an answer.

While it was true that he did indeed tolerate her, it was different from his other forms of toleration.

He didn’t mind her random spurts of humming when they would take a break during patrol, the way she would take over a mission when she would notice that something is off with him. 

He liked the way she would confidently take over briefings when the adults would take too long squabbling over deciding which members would take on the mission, the way she would take the time to train anyone who wanted to improve their skills…

He…he…he liked

Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.

Quickly sprinting off of his bed, he ran to the bathroom. 

Damian grabbed the sides of the sink with dear life as his head jerked forward, feeling his lungs push out all of the air within them. The air hacked itself out of him, Damian feeling the dryness in the back of his throat as something tried to come out. 

The lump in his throat remained there for what seemed to be minutes, Damian panicking with each second that passed. 

He could see his vision blur as he felt tears trickle out of his eyes as he stood over the sink, waiting for something, anything to come out of his mouth because this…this wasn’t normal. 

He hated every second that passed by that he spent feeling like this.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, something came out. 

A single pink petal landed at the base of the sink, a single speck of blood adorned it. 

Finally feeling the constraintment in chest lighten up, Damian looked at himself in the mirror, saliva running down his mouth. His eyes were puffy and red tears pooled at the corners of his eyes.

Gently picking the bloodied petal to distract himself from his appearance, Damian inspected it. 

How did this come out of him? When did he ever consume a flower? Was this even possible?

And why now? 

The last thing he could think of was realizing what Richard had said clicked something in his mind regarding Lady-

Ladybug. 

Damian stared at the petal. 

No. 

No. 

No way. 

Throwing the petal into the trash, Damian thought it to be best to ignore this. 

To forget the dots he had just then connected about himself. 

To try and forget that it ever happened.  

Even when the episode happened again two weeks later when an old partner appeared under a new disguise to help them take down Hawkmoth. 

When more petals poured out of his mouth a week later when she confessed she had a slight crush on a League member but wouldn’t tell him who. 

When breathlessness started to happen more quickly, when her concern over him caused the pain to grow more in his chest. 

When the internet couldn’t help him out while trying to ignore the flirting she was doing in front of him with his older brother once he joined their patrol. 

He couldn’t ignore it any longer when the episodes started to become more frequent as they got closer to identifying Hawkmoth. 

He finally had to address it when after taking down Hawkmoth, the pain in his chest became unbearable to the point that he collapsed as soon as they got back to their base. 

He stared at the white ceiling above him, wondering why this had to happen to him of all people. 

Why did he fall in love with her?

And why…

Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with him…

Why his brother?

Perhaps…he could ask her when he wakes up…or maybe after the surgery…but for now, he wanted to sleep and forget about the ache in his chest.

-

Jon sighed, still trying to take in the sight of his best friend of five years. 

Never did he ever think he would see Damian in a hospital bed. Hell, he never thought Damian would ever be in a hospital.

Needles were taped to his arms, leading towards the IV bags hanging near his bed. The sound of the ventilator filled the room, unnerving Jon as he stared at the tubes covering Damian’s face while he drifted to sleep once again. “Why didn’t you say anything? Of when it first started?” Jon ran his hands through his hair, trying his best to keep his tears in. 

Why did he have to go through this alone? Didn’t he trust him? Weren’t they friends? “Are you going to let this kill you? What about Marinette? Don’t you plan on telling her how you feel, you idiot?”

The sound of metal clanging filled the room, Jon quickly picking up his head to see Marinette walk into the room, her wide eyes staring at him. 

“Marinette…what are you-“

“Damian…Damian-“

“How much did you hear?” Jon asked. 

“I- just the last-“ Tears ran down her face, Marinette attempting to wipe them off as more continued to run. 

When she heard Robin had been rushed to the hospital after the fight with Hawkmoth, she could only think that he must’ve gotten badly wounded from the fight that couldn’t be treated back in the base. 

Her plans to ask if he was free the next week were completely cast aside, Marinette knowing she would have to apologize to Nightwing for wasting his time and helping her arrange the damned hangout after finally confessing to him that she had feelings for the younger Bat…

Then again, she could always ask another day.

After all, Robin’s well being came first.

When she rushed to the Tower, she asked if she could see him, where he was, but she was denied. But that didn't stop her from trying every day for a week, only to be told no each and every time. 

It wasn’t until another few days that she was finally asked to leave, benched from every mission until she calmed down.

It wasn’t until another week later when Nightwing stopped by her balcony to tell her the news.

That Robin was suffering from some unknown disease that he had been dealing with for the past half year. 

A disease that no one could place a name onto, that no one knew of. Or at least no one but her and Master Fu. When Nightwing heard this, he started to cry, using her shoulder to ground himself.

Perhaps she had the solution to help Robin, his little brother… so with his permission, Marinette was able to find out where Robin was this entire time…where Damian was this entire time…

Seeing him on the brink of death was not something she thought she would ever see…ever…

Nor how she would come to find out was his identity under the mask…

“He didn’t want you to know.” Jon softly stated as he watched Marinette crouched to pick up the metal flask she dropped earlier. “Never did. He’s scheduled for a surgery later this week to-“

“They know what he has?” Marinette asked with hope brimming her words.

“They don’t know what exactly it is he has, but from what Dick told me, it seems like something in his lungs-”

“Flower petals.” She interjected, tripping Jon. “His lungs are filled with flower petals, aren’t they?”

“How do you know-”

“Because it happened to me.” Marinette said, placing the flask on a nearby table. “Or rather, I have it as well.” Jon jumped off his chair and grabbed her shoulders.

“What do you mean you have it too? When did- how-”

“I’m not sure when I got it, but when the first flower petal came out of me, I ran to my mentor and told him about it. He told me he would look into it. A month passed when he finally found an answer. It doesn’t have a name but it has been documented a rare amount of times. 

A disease that causes flower petals to grow inside one's lungs and when left untreated, fills them to the point of suffocation and eventually…death. Til this day, no one is sure of the actual cause of the disease.”

“You said ‘if left untreated.’ So it’s curable? Are you cured?” Marinette shook her head.

“Thankfully, the disease has to do a bit with magic so there was a method developed to help reduce the effects of it, so my mentor has been able to suppress a few of the side effects with tea.” Marinette looked at the flask she brought in. “When Dick told me about what was going on, I begged my mentor to make a batch for Damian, thinking it might help, but to be completely honest…I don’t-”

The cardiogram in the room started to go off, the machine beeping rapidly with each passing second.

Marinette could only stand and listen as Jon ran outside, screaming for help, watching as someone pushed past her and towards Damian while someone else had grabbed her and tried to pull her outside. But the minute they grabbed her, she refused to move from her palace in the room, standing her ground.

She watched as they tried to bring him back to life, but when the sharp ringing that emitted from the cardiogram filled the room…she knew it was too late…

He wasn’t going to come back…

She wasn’t going to be able to tell him that she-

Marinette felt as something quickly rose to her throat, Marinette lurching forward as she hurled out a handful of small narrow and curved purple flower petals, horror filling her up when she saw blood glittering them as her mind was able to remember where she had seen that petal before.

Without a second thought, she screamed.

-

She had been walking through Wayne Botanical Garden, trying to clear her head after another failed attempt to visit Robin. She knew he was Gotham, but the answer was where. What hospital could he even be in?

Deciding to sit down and just sketch to further clear her mind, her eyes drifted to a small patch of purple flowers, Marinette getting up to further inspect the tiny flowers. As if waiting for her, Marinette noticed the sign next to it. 

Hyacinthus orientalis, or the common hyacinth, is a fragrant flowering plant that blooms early to mid-spring. Hyacinths produce showy flowers in shades of blue, purple, white, pink, and red. However, despite their vibrant colors, they are mostly associated with youth, beauty, and short lives cut tragically short. Especially purple hyacinths.

Purple hyacinths can symbolize multiple things, including sorrow and a desire for forgiveness. They are mostly given to let someone know you recognize you messed up or are looking for forgiveness.” 

-

A few days passed by, Bruce standing before Damian’s grave, wondering where it went all wrong…why Damian?

Why was he taken away from him?

Why didn’t he notice something was wrong with his son until it was too late?

Bruce jumped when a hand touched his shoulder, making him turn to see who it was.

“Dick.”

“You have to stop blaming yourself Bruce. No one could’ve known what he was going through. He did an excellent job of hiding it from everyone…even me…”

“But I should’ve noticed. I’m his father.” Bruce argued. “And,” he felt his heart churn, “and yet I failed him. I failed you, my children, yet again.”

Dick opened his mouth to speak, but chose to shut it when he couldn’t think of anything to try and console his father. Seconds passed by as neither of them dared to speak, only for the notification of a phone cut through the tension.

It took a moment for Dick to realize that it was his phone that pinged.

“Oh, it’s Luka. It seems like Marinette’s surgery went well…should we go and see how she’s doing?”

-

Bruce didn’t know what to do nor what to think when he heard Marinette’s laughter ring beyond the door that stood between the two, his grip tightening on the doorknob.

How dare she laugh.

She was there minutes before Damian died.

She had a remedy to help with the side effects of a disease he didn’t know of but she did.

Why didn’t she help Damian?

Why?

Why couldn’t that be Damian? 

Why couldn’t he be the one on the other side of the door?

Why was she the one to survive the illness that plagued the two of them?

“Mr. Wayne, are you okay?” Luka spoke up, causing Bruce to loosen his death grip on the doorknob.

“Luka.” Bruce wondered what expression he had on to make the usually aloof teen to be on his guard. “Dick told me that Marinette’s surgery…went well.”

“Or at least, that’s what we thought when we first talked to her after she woke up from surgery.”

“What do you mean by that?” Luka turned the doorknob, signaling Bruce to follow him.

“You’ll see what I mean when you see her.”

Upon Bruce entering the room, he could feel the atmosphere shift, noticing her parents acknowledge him with a curt nod while Marinette herself just stared at him with large eyes.

“M.Wayne, wh-what are you doing here?” She let out a gasp, Bruce seeing the blood drain from her face. “Oh, is…is this about the commission pieces you ordered from me months ago?” Marinette hung her head. “I know I’m behind and I know the suit just needs a bit more of embroidery, but I promise-”

“Marinette. This isn’t…this isn’t about my commission. I came to- is that the last thing you remember about me?” Bruce asked, wondering why his gut was starting to turn.

“Umm…yes?” Marinette guessed. “I also remember about a few fittings with you and your fiance, a few other meetings regarding a few alterations to the suit…but…but that’s all that I can recollect at the moment…”

Bruce walked closer to the hospital bed, noticing a scar peaking past the collar line of the hospital gown she was wearing.

“Marinette…do you remember…do you remember the other person who would accompany me to these fittings besides Selina?” Bruce couldn’t help but notice Sabine let out a quiet sob, turning her head away in shame into Tom’s shoulder.

Even Tom looked away from Bruce, causing alarms to go off in his head.

“Well…there was Richard…”

“Don’t…don’t you remember Damian?” 

“Damian?” Marinette tilted her head, her mind in deep thought before looking straight at Bruce. “Who’s Damian?”

[rosefinch07]

Brothers in Creation (No, Not That One) crossposted on A03

Damain scowled as he looked at his doll parts.

Why must all his family be jacked as shit?

He lines up the doll bases he was thinking of, digging them out from the bottom of the limb box.

Hexiciah Steam, Dexter Charming, Hunter Huntsman with a Clawd head, Deuce Gorgon with his snakes ripped off, Twyla almost looking unrecognizable as Twyla due to how much he had to tear her apart, Clawdia, Clawdeen, Clawd, and Howleen.

All of them bare of the factory printed faces and of the factory hair rooting.

Last week he had given all of them the appropriate skin tones.

Father, Baba, Jason, Timothy, himself, Barbara, Stephanie, Duke, and Cassandra.

That was an ordeal to color match paints to everyone’s foundation and concealer color.

He beheads them and pulls out a hank of black hair, grabbing what is going to become Father first.

Damian gets his rerooting tool and turns on one of his playlists, getting a few strands and plugging them into the doll head.

He has his concept sketches practically memorized by now. 

Father and Jason with sharp lines, Baba with graceful features, Timothy with a widow’s peak and dark circles, himself with appropriate baby fat (loathe he was to admit it), Barbara with her wheelchair, Stephanie with her chin, Duke with his yarn flocking as a stand-in for his short hair, and Cassandra with her smaller stature comparable to his own.

He gets lost in the rerooting process, bringing each color of hair closer to himself when he needs it.

He finished with Father’s and Baba’s and glued them, and was sticking Jason’s doll head on the rerooting pike by the time he noticed that Timothy was in the doorway.

While Damian had ceased with his attacks upon Timothy’s person, their alliance was still budding at best.

“Do you wish for something?”

“Nah, just wanted to stop by and check on everyone.”

Damian raises an eyebrow.

“Isn’t that Father’s or Alfred’s job?”

“It’s the job of anyone who’s fighting irrationalities.” Tim raised his coffee mug.

“Ah, I hope your brain shuts up soon.”

“Me too, kid, me too.”

He glances at his work so far, making a decision that probably would ease Tim’s mind.

“Would you like to see what I am working on?”

Tim nods, pulling up a chair beside him.

“Dolls?”

“Of us. There is a reason why I asked for swatches of your concealer and foundation.”

He tilts his head.

“Yeah, it was kinda weird you asked that of everyone.”

Damian looks at him out of the corner of his eye, hands steadily plugging in hair.

“What do you know about doll customizing?”

“I know it exists but I normally take pictures of Kon and Bernard’s finished Gundam models.”

He hums, gluing the hair plugs down from the neck hole.

“This is along the same lines of Gundam models, but you don’t have specific instructions or a specific kit that you buy.”

“So, just vibing, a design if you want it, and commit?”

“In simple terms, pretty much.”

Tim looks at the current supplies out, hair hanks and rerooting tools with pastels pushed to the side.

“I’m pretty sure you’re doing us as civilians?”

“Affirmative, I am currently waiting on a few variations of our Bat gear to finish printing before I even think about trying to translate our suits to doll size.”

“Yeah, that sounds like that would take a while for the clothing.”

He picks up Timothy’s doll head and starts rerooting that one.

“I’m currently thinking of doing a Robin line-up with Chelsea dolls next.”

“To really be dwarfed by the nightmare-fuel 15-inch Batman on your shelf?”

“Be glad I didn’t use a Smart Doll as a base for him.”

“Those 25-inch ones? That would’ve been terrifying.”

Damian grinned.

“Indeed.”

Tim watches him as he does his rerooting, just chilling.

“This is like Alfred and his knitting, isn’t it?”

He chuckles.

“Comparable in a way. I have a favor to ask.”

“Normal favor rules apply.”

“As expected. Anyways, would you be up for photographing the completed dolls?”

Tim snorts.

“I would have asked to do that anyways, Damian, you might be good at art but damn do you suck at taking pictures.”

“Astute observation, and is the entire reason I want you to do the pictures.”

“Cool, you can tell me when you are satisfied with them. In the meantime, I can scope out possible locations after hanging out with you.”

Damian pauses in rerooting.

“Is- Is that what this is?”

“Well, yeah, I went from oldest to youngest and wanted to stay.”

He nods.

“That is agreeable Tim.”

[stareyedmoonchild]

@dawnwave16​ hope you don’t mind, but I had to modify the dialogue a bit to fit the scenario. I hope you enjoy it.

Marinette knew things would end like this. Don’t ask her how she knew, because she wouldn’t be able to give a good enough answer other than, “It’s Gotham,” but here she was, running from the psychotic killer clown inside an abandoned warehouse.

Pause! You must be wondering what lead up to this. Well, allow me to indulge your curiosity.

It all began when Marinette’s parents where requested to cater at the New Year Charity Gala hosted by Bruce Wayne himself. Apparently he wanted the best, and from what he could gather it was them. He even offered to pay for the airfare and suite that they would be staying at for two weeks, their own kitchen too. With all this being offered, who were they to say no? Besides, it’s Bruce fucking Wayne. You must be out of your mind to say no to a man with that influence, well, unless you're Tony Stark. Now that man has denied almost every invite from Mr. Wayne, mainly because he would try to out shine Bruce with his own gala, but that’s besides the point.

Anyways, the point is they said yes, which lead them to them flying out to Gotham. 

“Now Marinette, while we are here try not to bring too much unwanted attention to yourself. This is the world’s most dangerous city, and we don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Her mother said, with a stern voice.

“That being said we came up with a list of Rules,” her father said, as he sat straighter in his seat looking her dead in the eye. 

“Do not talk to strangers,” Her mother began.

“Do not stay out past sunset,” her father followed. 

“Most of all if something doesn't feel right, you immediately head head back to the hotel.” 

“Try to avoid any and all confrontations”

By the time the plane landed, Marinette had more than a hundred rules to follow, and the worst thing was that she wouldn't even remember half of them.

"Maman, Papa, please, I'll be fine. Besides, how bad could the city be? It should be nothing compared to the akumas we face on a daily basis," Marinette reassured, but for some reason, she felt as if something was going to happen. Something that would go horribly wrong, and if she wasn't careful, it would be her life on the line.

If only she listened to that feeling.

Over the course of their stay, she was very diligent when it came to helping with the baking and decorating of various desserts. Her parents feeling as she deserved a break from the kitchen, told her to go outside and enjoy the city. Before she could argue, they were already pushing her out of the kitchen and out the door, saying, "be back by sunset."

With that, Marinette found her herself in the streets of Gotham. 

It was okay, she didn’t really stray too far from the building where her parents are working, and just sat outside at few tables that coffee shops set up, and drew.  However, that didn’t mean she didn’t notice the few looks and mutterings of passerby. 

“Excuse me.”

Turning her head to look behind her, she saw a boy about her age. He had this somewhat rich kid vibe, mainly because of the uniform he was wearing.

“Can I help you,” she asked, with near perfect English. 

‘Thank you for those lessons Adrien,’ she thought.

“I was wondering, could I take a picture with you,” seeing the her unsure look, he continued saying, “I know that it’s a weird question, but I feel like your going to be someone pretty soon, and I would like to one of the few who gets to say I met you before the fame. Hope that’s cool with you.”

“uh, okay,” Marinette said, still a bit unsure.

“Sweet,” He said excitedly.

He was quick about it. Wrapping a friendly arm around her shoulders, with a big grin on his face, as Marinette posed with a timid smile and peace sign. Soon enough there was a quick flash and the picture was done.

“Thanks,” he said, as he ran.

Marinette just stared at his vanishing form, and just shrugged it off. 

‘That was weird. Must be an American thing,’ she thought, going back to her drawing. If only she knew that the picture would be posted later that night, with the caption, “Possible new Wayne?” If only she knew that it would blow up. If only she knew that villains like to keep up with almost all topics about the Wayne family.

It was only on the fourth day of their stay, and Marinette wanted to get some fabrics for her families outfits for the Gala. when permission was granted she went to the nearest fabric shop, only to lose track of time. 

She’s so grounded after this. 

She turned into an alley, that Google said was a short cut. Holding the fabrics closer to her person, she began to feel as if something was following her. Something that had malicious intentions, and if she wasn’t careful, her life could very well be over. 

Marinette began to walk faster, and faster until eventually she found herself running. She didn’t even notice that she dropped her fabrics. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but when she heard it, the being that was her predator, the laugh that she only heard from countless videos from people who had close encounters with this person, it only got louder and faster. Her blood becoming ice in her veins, and by now she was running on pure adrenaline. If the sound on the video sent shivers down her spine, it was nothing compared to the real thing. 

That’s what lead her to where she is now, taking shelter in an abandoned warehouse, running from a killer clown. Fun.

‘Think brain, think,” she thought, looking round for a good place to hide so she could come up with a plan.

Her attention caught a corner were a good amount of boxes could, if arranged properly, hide her from plain sight. She got to work immediately, and by luck found a crowbar that she could use if he did by chance found her. 

Crouching within her box barricade, she slowed her breathing and gripped the crowbar so tight that her hands became white as snow. She was determined to survive this. 

Marinette listened to his footsteps, as he opened the closet on the other side of the room, and as he began to knock things over and rummage the room.

“”Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said slowly, followed by a crazed laugh.

“I just want to make you laugh.”

He stopped in front of her barricade, and head the shift in fabric. She knew her hiding place would be compromised, so she prepared herself for to attack. Everything became slow motion then. 

Marinette burst out from within, with an upward swing to the clowns face. She didn't even give him time to recover from the first blow, she attacked head on and couldn’t stop herself even after he was down. Her mind was telling her that if she stopped for even a moment, her life would be in his mercy. It wasn’t until she felt strong arms wrap around her from behind, restraining her from attacking, the bloody beaten clown. She struggled within their grasp, ignoring the reassuring words coming from their mouth, before headbutting the the man who held her. 

Turning to face this new character, did she get a good look at what was happening around her. Two men were taking the clowns vitals, making sure he would live, the youngest informing them of police and medic’s arrival, the intimidating one in a black cowl, and the bloody crowbar still in her hands. 

Well, this was not a good picture to paint. Especial when you’re in front of four Gotham heroes. She was going to be in some deep shit when she got home. 

“Damn kid, what’s your head made of? Cement? Consider this the last time I take my helmet off as to not scare anyone further than what they are,” Red Hood asked, as he held his nose to stop the blood flow.

“Dude, you should know to use caution when dealing with someone who fight mode, rather than flight,” Nightwing said, as he and Red Robin let the medics take over.

“Yeah, yeah, but she was suppose to be the damsel in distress, right? You know harmless.”

“She was beating Joker to death with a crowbar,” Robin said.

“Still.”

Clearing her throat, Marinette caught their attention and said, “Hi. I was a damsel, I was in distress, I handled it. Have a good night.”

She threw the crowbar to the side, feeling somewhat badass. However, just before she was about to leave she realized she had no idea how to get back to the hotel.

Turning around sheepishly, she said, “Do any of you by chance know how to get to the hotel that Bruce Wayne owns on fifth street?” 

They all looked at Robin.

“Really?”

There was a moment of silence before, the boy sighed and walked toward her.

“Keep up and follow me.”

She smiled, waving goodbye to the other three heroes as she ran to catch up to the boy dressed in traffic light colors.

Bonus:

“So did you find out who she is,” Bruce asked, as Tim turned to face him.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Damian’s age, French, and has parents,” He responded, stressing the last part.

Bruce merely hummed at that bit of information before taking a sip of his coffee. So what if she had parents? It never stopped him before, just ask Barbara. Marinette will become his daughter one way or another, and when that happens, Tony will have nothing on him.

Tim stared at Bruce, knowing full well what was going through his head. Guess it’s time to warn the others of what is to come.

Send a number!

[damianwaynerocks]

Ghosts in Gotham

Danny Phantom / DC Comics fanfic

Dedicated to: @dannyphantom-justiceleauge

Summary: The Batfamily has been through their fair share of the supernatural. That’s why they originally weren’t worried whenever ghosts started showing up in Gotham City. Until one day, something happens; Batman is captured and taken into the Ghost Zone. With no way to go in there themselves, the no way to fight the ghosts inside, the bats decide to call the person who can; Danny Phantom. Together, Danny takes Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown and Damian Wayne into the Ghost Zone before the Batman is lost forever.

Words: 2032

ch 2 Masterlist

Chapter 1:

-

Every city had its hero.

Gotham City? Batman. Metropolis? Superman. Central City? The Flash.

Amity Park? Danny Phantom.

Amity Park had mixed feelings about Phantom. Some said he was a helper, a true hero, keeping the town safe. Others said he was a criminal, doing nothing but wreaking havoc on the town. Either way, Phantom was known for one specific thing; fighting ghosts.

Which is what he was doing at the moment.

"I am!! The Box Ghost!!" a short, stocky ghost shouted. His eyes glowed blue and an aura of the same color surrounded the boxes crowding the back of a movie theater. "Beware!" he raised his arms and hurled three boxes at a figure who easily dodged.

"Come on, Box Ghost," a teenage boy with white hair and green eyes floating above the ground groaned. "I don't have time for this! I have to order the new Cheese Viking game before it sells out!"

"Beware!" The Box Ghost shouted again, throwing more boxes at the boy.

Danny Phantom rolled his eyes as his body became intangible, the boxes easily passing through it. He raised his arm, and a blast of bright green energy shot from his palm, hitting the Box Ghost square in the chest. The Box Ghost, with a grunt, was blown back into the brick wall of the movie theater.

Not wasting any time, Danny grabbed the thermos that he had strapped to his back and pointed it at the other ghost. In a flash of light, the Box Ghost was sucked into the thermos.

"Finally," Danny muttered as he took off into the sky.

Danny Phantom, his real name being Danny Fenton, was a sixteen-year-old halfa, or a ghost-human hybrid. He could switch between ghost and human form at will. He'd gotten his powers from an accident with the Ghost Portal, a portal in his home that was a bridge between the human world and the Ghost Zone, where every ghost resides.

Ghosts repeatedly escaped the Ghost Zone through this portal for one of three reasons; to wreak havoc on the human world, to kill Danny or both. Usually, it was the latter.

Danny returned to his house, passing through the walls of the building with intangibility and landing in the lab. He switched back to his human form in a flash of light, changing his hair color from white to black and his eyes from green to blue.

His family was made up of ghost hunters- aside from his sister -so they had an entire lab dedicated to ghost technology.

"Back you go, Boxy," Danny said as he released the Box Ghost into the portal. "Finally," he sighed, "Time to get Cheese Viking."

"No!" he shouted five minutes later at his computer. The new Cheese Viking, Danny's favorite game, had sold out.

"Danny!" a large man in an orange jumpsuit burst into the boy's room. "Are you okay!? Are you hurt!?"

"No, Dad, I'm fine," Danny replied to his father, Jack Fenton. "Except for that stupid Box Ghost making me too late to get Cheese Viking!"

He hadn't told his parents about his life as Phantom until he was fifteen. Well, it wasn't Danny who told them. His sister found him in his room passed out with a gaping hole in his side, and she had to tell their parents so they could help him.

Jack paused. "But.. you got him?" he asked cheerily. Danny smiled.

"Yeah. I got him." Jack slapped him on the back.

"Thatta boy!" he said with a grin. "Come on, Jazz got a letter from Wayne Enterprises and your mom wants the whole family to watch her open it!"

Jazz, Danny's sister, had just graduated high school and had applied for an internship at Wayne Enterprises, one of the largest businesses in the world. An internship there would kick-start her career in marketing. That was the reason she claimed, but Danny was sure that part of the reason was that Bruce Wayne, the billionaire who owned Wayne Enterprises, was cute.

"Finally!" Jazz, a girl with long red hair and a blue headband huffed. "I haven't been able to look for three hours! What were you out doing?"

"Uh, my job?" Danny smirked as he hopped over the back of the couch to sit on it. Jazz rolled her eyes.

"Open it, dear!" Their mom, Maddie Fenton, urged. Jazz grinned widely, opening the letter. Her smile grew, and she jumped up and down.

"I got it!" she squealed. "I got it!! I got the internship!!"

"That's great, Jazz!" the other three Fentons exclaimed at once. Jazz seemed to get even more excited as she continued reading the letter.

"And," she continued excitedly, "All the interns are expected to attend the next Wayne Gala with their families! All expenses paid!"

"Yes!" Jack cried. "We're going to New Jersey, baby!" As the entire family celebrated, Danny couldn't help but be suspicious. Jazz had applied late and while she was smart, she wouldn't have been anything special next to the other applicants.

Something was up. _

"So what, you think she only got accepted because of you?" A girl with short black hair raised an eyebrow as they walked through the halls of their high school. "Why, exactly?"

"Because, Sam," Danny responded to his girlfriend. "It's weird. I was looking at the Infi-map, and there's a portal to the Ghost Zone in Gotham that wasn't there a month ago. And get this? It's five miles away from Wayne Manor.”

"You think Bruce Wayne wants you out of the way for some plan?

"It wouldn't be the first time somebody did."

"But how would he even know who you are?" Sam Manson asked, "I mean, there's no way he knows that you're Phantom."

"Um, because he's Batman?" An African American boy walking beside them scoffed as though it was obvious. "Batman knows everything."

Danny and Sam laughed. "Tucker, seriously?" Danny shook his head in disbelief. "That conspiracy? Batman and Bruce Wayne have been seen at the same time in the same place multiple times.”

"Okay, well, you can clone yourself! Who's to say Batman can't? Or maybe it's a hologram! Or maybe it's one of his thousand children in the suit!" Tucker Foley counted on his fingers as he rattled off the various theories. His eyes widened, and he grabbed Danny's shoulders. "Dude, you have to get proof."

"There's no way I'd be able to get close enough to Bruce Wayne to prove anything."

"Then trick him!" Tucker said, his eyes bright. "Most of Bruce's adopted kids are boys with black hair and blue eyes! Just say you're an orphan and I bet he'll be like 'Of course you can stay, I am always down for more children."

"Okay, first of all," Danny began, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder and prying his friends arms off of him. “His son Damian? That kid scares me, he gives off Dash vibes. Did you see how he made that interviewer cry?"

A few months prior, a video had surfaced that showed Damian Wayne insulting a girl who was trying to give him an interview. The two-minute video ended with the girl crying.

"And second of all-" Danny was cut off as he was shoved to the ground. He looked up to see Dash Baxter, a muscular boy with blonde hair.

"Watch where you're going, Fen-freak," Dash sneered, "Before I shove your puny face into a locker!"

Danny gritted his teeth as he sat up. Dash had been picking on him from the beginning of high school. Two years later, he hadn't stopped.

On any other occasion, Danny would have said something in response, but Dash had already continued down the hall.

"Why can't you just zap him or something?" Tucker grumbled. "He's the worst!"

"Yeah, I know," Danny stood up, wiping dust off of his shirt. "But I can't. It isn't right."

"Your moral code is dumb," his friend snapped back.

"If you're going to Gotham," said Sam with a pointed look at Tucker. "Who's gonna be here to help with the ghosts?"

"I've got it covered," Danny replied swiftly, looking up. "Dani's coming down.  It'll be fine. I have to keep Jazz safe, and figure out what Brucie Wayne is up to."

__

"I am sure Father would have a better plan than to invite some under-qualified intern to the Manor."

A seventeen-year-old boy with spiky black hair rolled his eyes. "Damian, she isn't under-qualified. She meets all of the qualifications for the internship."

The first boy, an Arab thirteen-year-old with the same spiky hair and bright green eyes, scoffed. "There is no way a person from some backwater town would have received the internship if we hadn't needed her brother."

Tim Drake and Damian Wayne, the youngest children of Bruce Wayne. Damian currently held the Robin mantle, while Tim used Red Robin. The brothers were in a large cave decked out with a plethora of high-tech equipment.

"Okay, but you think every place outside of Gotham is a backwater town." Tim pointed out as he swiveled his chair to face a massive computer.

"Amity Park is a backwater town. The citizens there are animals," Damian retorted, crossing his arms. "You just cannot see that because you are also a backwater type."

Tim laughed as he realized what the younger boy was basing his opinion on. "Damian, please tell me you haven't generalized an entire city just because of one tourist from Amity Park ran into you and spilled soda on your shirt."

"It was my favorite shirt! And that cretin did not even apologize!" Damian spat. "The nerve!"

"Okay, well, put aside your dumb grudge and think about the objective," Tim responded. "I think, if you look within that thing you call a soul, you can see that letting one intern that you think is under-qualified is worth getting Bruce back."

"Tt. I suppose," Damian admitted begrudgingly. "If this Danny Phantom character truly has the potential to save Father."

"He's the only one who can." Tim reminded him. "We can't get into the Ghost Zone without a ghost, and I don't think any of the ones we've seen so far would be willing to help," He paused. "Plus, don't the Fentons make ghost hunting gear? Who knows, maybe they have a ghost sword."

After a sudden wave of ghost attacks in Gotham, Bruce had poured in countless hours of research to find out as much as he could about ghosts. He had discovered that they came from another dimension and that there was one person who was an expert at fighting them; Danny Phantom of Amity Park. It didn't take very long for him to uncover Phantom's true identity.

"Tim! Dames!" a voice shouted. "My boys!" Tim and Damian looked towards the stairs and saw a taller man with black hair and blue eyes jump the railing of said stairs, landing in the Bat Cave.This was their oldest brother, Dick Grayson, also known as Nightwing. He grinned brightly. "How's it going?"

"Making sure that we have every possible outcome of this mission prepared for." Tim replied as he continued typing on the Bat Computer. Damian nodded.

“Yes, and so I have decided that I shall accompany them on this journey."

"Damian, no." his older brothers said at the same time. Damian scowled.

"Why not? I am plenty capable of-

"Because people would get suspicious if Batman suddenly didn't have a Robin," Dick answered, strolling towards the younger boy. "That's why Jason, Tim, and Stephanie are going. They won't be missed," He gave Tim a nervous look. "No offense."

"None taken," Tim replied, waving his hand. "Sorry Damian, you'd just get in the way."

"But I have died before!" Damian huffed, his hands clenching into fists. "That combined with my skills- which are far greater than yours, Drake, I might add -makes me much more qualified than you."

"Little D, dude, I just told you," Dick ruffled his younger brother's hair. "It'll be suspicious if you're gone. And besides, I need you. We're a great team."

"But my father is in there-"

"Master Damian-" their butler, Alfred Pennyworth, interrupted the trio's squabbling. "You won't be going anywhere until your homework is done."

"Homework? Finding my father is much more important than an essay on why the Roman empire fe-"

"Master Damian." Alfred repeated in a low tone. "Now."

Damian scowled as he trudged up the stairs. It didn't matter how tough the person was. When Alfred told you to do something, you do it. "I will be going with you, Drake!" he called behind his shoulder. "I promise you that!"

Dick and Tim exchanged a glance and rolled their eyes.

"Children."

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [13/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro. Jason and Isabel Ardila were in a brief relationship.

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

“Have you seen this?!” Damian explodes, stalking into Tim’s office with all the fury of a pit-bull wearing a thousand-dollar suit. His somewhat bruised face is red with fury as he slams of a piece of paper down on Tim’s desk.

“Did we have an appointment?” Tim asks lightly. “Because otherwise, I need to call an exorcist about a demon problem.”

“Stow your inappropriate humor, Drake, I just received a memo from our lawyers—”

“You received a memo? You don’t even work here officially. You were probably just sitting in B’s office pretending to do your homework and then snooped in his inbox when his back was turned.”

“A technicality that holds no bearing on this,” the boy sniffs, waving the paper again. “The patent office is denying Wayne Enterprises claim for the personal water filtration device we filed for on Tuesday.”

“What?” Tim demands, snatching the paper and glaring down at it; that was one of the projects he’s been overseeing the past few months. “On what grounds?”

“LexCorp apparently filed for a similar product 24 hours before we did.”

“Bullshit,” Tim snaps. “As of last month, they weren’t even out of the developmental stage on that.”

He knows because he’d been to the factory chasing down a lead on a completely unrelated case as Red Robin and happened to catch sight of their prototype. It was nowhere near the quality that Luke Fox already perfected in the Wayne tech division.

“Apparently someone’s been helping them out.”

“Any idea who?”

“I can ferret out the traitor soon enough, and make them see the error of their ways,” Damian says, smiling unpleasantly.

Which could mean anything from destroying their legal existence, or a personal beat-down by Robin depending on his mood.

“No,” he says. “We’ll figure out who did it, and why. Then we take it to Lucius.”

“I would imagine the motive for the deceit is rather self-evident.”

“It isn’t always. Motive colors everything. For all we know, it could be a blackmail situation. I wouldn’t put anything past LexCorp, or their R&D team.”

“And the issue of the patent itself?” Damian demands, folding his arms. “This company has invested significant capital in developing the product; if LexCorp retains the patent, our profit margins this quarter will tank.”

Tim smiles coolly. “They’ve invested a lot more than we did. Especially if they’re paying off a corporate spy. I’ll talk to Luke and his dad, but I think if we circulate the story we’re placing the design schematics online to ensure anyone in need can construct their own unofficial versions of it—for humanitarian and innovative reasons of course—LexCorp will take the worse hit and with the good press WE gets, we can recoup.”

“You don’t actually intend to follow through with that, do you?” Damian asks, nose wrinkled in distaste. “That reeks of compromise.”

“Of course we’ll follow through. With the prototype designs, not the final versions. Profit was never the main goal of that project anyhow, so we can afford a delay on returns. With the sudden influx of bootlegged versions of the technology, owning the patent will no longer be the challenge, it will be providing the most efficient and functional model. Which ours is, given the time we spent developing it.”

“So even if LexCorp releases their version, it will continue to underperform next to ours,” Damian realizes. He thinks about it for a moment and then nods. “That’s a semi-acceptable solution. Not enough justification for you to still be here, though.”

A brief, shining moment of an almost-compliment…and we’re back to that again.

“You know, if you’re so concerned that the team in San Francisco is bereft of management, you could always fly down yourself.”

“This is my city. I won’t leave it.” Which is the same argument he used last night; odd, considering Damian likes to be varied in his attacks on Tim. “Besides, we have all seen the results of the alternative.”

Meaning their short-lived team-up where everyone compared them to each other and Damian split.

Tim raises an eyebrow at that.

It almost sounds like he’s…upset about that. Funny, he’s never indicated he minded leaving the Titans when I came back. And half the time he’s off doing whatever it is he does with John.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such a jerk to them, they wouldn’t have been so eager to see the back of you,” he points out, even as he immediately knows it’s the wrong thing to say. Damian’s expression, on the cusp of showing vulnerability, shuts down completely.

“I have learned it is futile to argue with stupidity, and that includes a preference for subpar leadership. Which you should be getting back to and cease wasting company time on whatever it is you don’t actually contribute here.”

Tim rolls his eyes, counts to ten in his head, and replies, “I have a case here, you know. I’m not leaving until that’s done. And maybe if you stopped being such an ass about it and just came out and asked, I’d be happy to call the team and suggest giving you another chance.”

“I don’t require your pity!”

“That’s not what—” Tim groans and pinches the bridge of his nose; why does every conversation with Damian that doesn’t include weapons, always go pear-shaped? “Are you and B fighting again? Is that what this is?”

“Of course not!”

Twin spots of red indicate that’s exactly what it is, and Tim groans internally.

Exactly when did I take over from Dick as chief soother of family problems?

Probably shortly after Dick “died” and went undercover with Spyral. Which he thinks is patently unfair, considering Cass is technically second-oldest, and Jason gives off more of that brother-vibe despite his abrasiveness.

Not that that’s particularly helpful now; he’s got his own problems to deal with.

And of anyone in the family, Tim’s the only one Damian interacts with almost as much as Dick, so maybe it’s not surprising.

Before he can ruminate any more on that, his phone buzzes; it’s from an unknown number, but Tim can guess who it’s coming from based on the first words in the text message.

- Hospital called. Tests positive…

There’s more to it, but Damian’s trying to read it upside down, so Tim snatches it up and reaches for his briefcase.

Apparently, the hospital put a rush on the paternity test results after all. Jason is probably freaking out right now.

 “We can continue this whole you-asking-for-help-but-not-really-thing tomorrow.”

“I’m not—that isn’t—you presume—” the kid splutters as Tim closes his laptop, before recovering and demanding, “Where are you going?”

“Picking up Ives at St. Camillus,” he lies with ease and mentally apologizes to his absent friend for using him as a cover. “He’s had a hard go of it, so we’re doing pizza and a Mission Impossible marathon.” He pretends to pause. “You’re welcome to come, but I’m telling you now we’re not ordering vegetarian or vegan pizza for you. It’s going to be a no vegetable zone.”

In the past few years he’s discovered the fastest way to get Damian to leave him alone is to welcome him to spend time with him. The kid is so set in his ways of insisting he loathes Tim that he’ll go out of his way to refuse such an invitation on principle, even in cases where Tim suspects he wouldn’t mind sticking around.

Tim thinks he has another year or two of that strategy working before Damian finally figures it out. Which could potentially be fun—he wonders what it would be like to have a younger brother that isn’t constantly trying to cut the knees out from under him—but for now, he really wants to avoid it.

Luckily, in this Damian remains predictable.

“I’d rather not stunt my growth like you,” the boy sneers.

Tim pretends that dig doesn’t irritate him, the way it has been since he noticed Damian catching up to him in height. The kid is smug about it and likes to rub it in. Tim, however, has learned the best way to circumvent that is to make a joke of it.

“I thought everyone assumed it was the energy drinks,” he grins.

“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out on your territory since you’ve decided to engage in an evening of sloth instead of important work,” Damian grumbles and stalks out of his office.

“So that’s a ‘no’ to pizza night?” Tim calls after him, fully aware of the answer.

“You’re a disgrace, Drake.”

“Make good choices!”

He allows himself a moment to bask in the satisfaction of ticking off the younger boy, before growing solemn again. He unlocks his phone to scan the whole message.

- Hospital called. Tests positive. Pickup tonight. Legal stuff figured out?

Tim shakes his head; Jason might as well be organizing a stakeout for all the details he’s given. It’s a typical Bruce-ism they’ve all adopted for when they are too overwhelmed to deal with something. He wonders if Jason’s even aware he’s doing it.

He quickly types out a reply—I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together. I have papers you need—and heads for the company garage.

He remembers the process from when Steph had her baby and signed the adoption papers, and so has ensured the documents the hospital will require are on-hand. Social security and medical history forms, birth certificates, driver’s license—a surface survey of identification to prove that Jason Ardila exists.

All Jason needs to do is memorize them on the drive over in case anyone decides to ask questions. Which they won’t, since the fact of Jason being the baby’s biological parent cuts down on a lot of paperwork for them, and Tim knows from personal experience that when it’s possible to avoid paperwork, most organizations do.

Inching back home through Gotham’s usual rush hour madness, Tim wonders if Jason will still be there when he gets to the apartment or if this is the point where he gives up and makes a run for it.

Halfway to the Nest, he gets another text from Jason, this one informing him he’s not at Tim’s place. A follow-up message lists an address Tim thinks he might have read recently, and it’s only when he gets home that he recognizes it from the file he read on Isabel.

Guess he decided to go out today after all.

He quickly changes from his business suit to something casual and unassuming, not wanting to draw attention if he goes into the hospital with Jason, and then hunts up the car seat from the piles of baby things Tam bought. Once that’s carefully installed into one of his less flashy cars, he heads out to the location Jason gave him.

He pulls up in front of a well-maintained condominium, and texts Jason about his arrival; though he knows he’s there, he’s still somewhat surprised when the older man materializes from behind the building, his face ashen and entire body pulled tight and tense.

As Jason gets into the car, Tim knows better than to ask him what’s wrong or if he’s alright.

Instead, he asks, “Have you eaten?”

Jason blinks at him like he’s speaking a foreign language, and then processes. “Not yet.”

Tim’s eyebrows go up at that because usually, it’s him that has to be reminded of eating; Jason’s one of those people that has to eat every three hours, or they become ornery.

He spares a moment to wonder where he picked up that bit of knowledge, and then suggests, “We can stop for food first if you want.” There’s a place on the Upper Eastside where Red Hood has been known to frequent. “We can take as long as you want.” 

“If I eat anything right now, I’m going to throw up,” Jason informs him. “I want to just get this over with.”

“Right.” He can understand that. “Okay, on that note—” Tim strains behind the seat, finagling the folder he stuck there with only the slightest pulled muscle, “—here.”

He hands Jason the folder of documents.

“These are all the official stuff they might ask you for, though I doubt we’ll need all of them today,” he explains. “I also included a list of social media sites you’re now registered on and tweaked your membership dates to exist retroactively, though that’s more for you and not the hospital.”

Jason makes a face. “You gave me a Facebook account.”

“Having one is almost more proof of your existence than having a passport these days,” Tim replies. “Which you still need to get, but we can hold off on that for a little longer. Everything here is just to throw off anyone from social services or the government if they decide to investigate you while we’re coming up with the long-term plan. And if we need an ironclad background, we can bring Oracle in on this.”

Jason’s expression becomes darker.

“Obviously I know you want that to be a last resort,” Tim says quickly. “But just keep in mind it’s an option. And O’s pretty good at keeping secrets from the rest of the family too, you know.”

The older man flips through the documents again and shakes his head. “This is pretty comprehensive considering the kid’s not hanging around here for long.”

“Trust me, if you want to get her out of the hospital, it’s going to have to be that comprehensive.”

It looks like Jason has a comment for that, probably about how he doesn’t want to take her from the hospital, but he visibly buries it and focusses on getting familiar with his new background.

The rest of the drive is silent and tense, and not for the first time Tim questions the wisdom in getting involved at all. Out of everyone in the family to help Jason through a tough emotional spot, Tim always considers himself the last resort; even Damian has more in common with Jason. On the other hand, with this particular scenario, maybe there is no right person to help.

Luck of the draw, I guess…

The tension in the car ratchets up tenfold as they pull into the hospital parking lot. Tim makes a judgment call to not simply drop Jason off on his own this time and even offers to carry the baby-carrier with him into the building, though Jason declines.

Probably needs something to do with his hands.

Tim feels a modicum of relief at that; the contraption is bulky and seems too big for the baby he held in his arms yesterday. Knowing him, he’d probably drop it and send Jason into a panic attack…

They head to the neonatal section in silence, and when they get there Tim’s the one who speaks to the receptionist. She hands him a clipboard with a bunch of release forms and waivers, then assures him the doctor will be with them shortly, before pointing them toward the waiting area.

Once seated, Tim divides up the forms and offers Jason a spare pen from his jacket pocket.

“This stuff’s all insurance and stuff,” he tells him. “I can fill them out for you.”

“I said I was going to handle it.”

“Did I say I was putting my information down on it?”

Jason scowls. “I hope you know how creepy it is you know so much about me.”

“Creepy, but useful,” Tim retorts and shoves a different form at Jason. “This is all family and medical stuff. That’s on you.”

“How generous,” Jason deadpans, though he takes the paper and reads through it.

Despite having the majority of the forms, Tim finishes long before Jason does. When he glances over to see what’s keeping him, he realizes that while everything else is filled out, he seems stuck on the name part of the questionnaire.

“You almost done?” he prompts, instead of asking if he’s alright.

Jason visibly shakes himself, jots something down on the paper, and practically shoves it back into Tim’s hands. “Yeah. All good.”

Tim glances at the form, noting that in a fit of inspiration, Jason has added Isabel as the child’s middle name.

As if expecting Tim to comment, he mutters, “Wherever she ends up, she should at least have a part of her mom.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

He takes the documents back to the receptionist to be copied and filed, before returning to sit with Jason.

“It’s a nice name,” he offers after a while. “Luisa Isabel.” He considers. “We can call her Isa. It works for both.”

“Shit. Jason blinks. “I didn’t think about that. Maybe it’s not too late to change it.”

“I wasn’t making fun, you know. It’s a decent nickname.”

Jason shoots him a sharp look. “What did I say about getting attached?”

“Why do you even care? Whoever ends up taking her might change it anyway.”

That comment makes Jason frown, as if he didn’t consider it, but if he has anything to reply, it’s cut off when a nurse appears and calls out Jason’s name.

“Right this way,” she beams at them, leading them to the hallway outside of an observation room; she promises to return in a moment.

Jason and Tim look inside, where there are rows of infants in clear cradles. The nurse stops in front of one of them—labeled Baby Ardila—and picks up the pink swaddled infant.

“Mr. Ardila,” a familiar voice interrupts, and they glance up as Dr. Kerry makes an appearance. He hesitates upon meeting Tim’s gaze, clearly wanting to keep to the privacy he requested yesterday. “Mr…”

“Draper,” Tim supplies smoothly, glad for the attempt.

“Right.” The man shakes his head and returns his attention to Jason. “As you’re aware, we did receive the tests back confirming the paternity. All that’s left is to release her into your custody, though I do have a few last-minute matters to discuss.”

“Sure,” Jason says tightly.

 “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong. She’s in excellent health,” the doctor assures them, as Jason fiddles with the baby carrier. He seems to be unsure if he should carry it by the handle or in his massive arms.

It would be kind of funny if he wasn’t so terrified.

“Her Apgar scores are perfect, she’s already had her Vitamin K injection and shots against Hepatitis B—all of which was arranged and signed off on before the birth,” he adds quickly, wary like he’s expecting them to rage at him for vaccinating the child.

“Good,” Jason says, probably because it’s one less thing to worry about.

Kerry appears relieved, and continues, “She’ll have a series of injections and boosters she’ll be needing, but her pediatrician will give you all of that information when you bring her for her check-up a week from now—" Kerry cuts himself off as if remembering the situation. “I can give you several referrals if you haven’t selected one yet.”

“Thank you, but that’s unnecessary,” Tim says. “We have a family physician.”

Kerry glances at Jason, as if unsure if he should be deferring that decision to Tim considering the kid’s paternity, but Jason nods. “I think that’s probably the only thing we for-sure have covered.”

Not entirely sure Leslie’s area is babies, but she’s still the only doctor worth trusting in this city. Jason knows it too.

“Very well,” the man says with a hint of doubt in his voice. He appears to debate with himself about something for a moment and then squares his shoulders. “We do have a social worker on-site if you change your mind about adoption.”

“No,” Jason says.

Kerry sighs. “Mr. Ardila, if you’ll pardon my input—you’re young. And given the circumstances, this is quite a shock. It’s admirable you want to do the right thing and step up to your responsibilities, but it would be remiss of me not to remind you to do what’s best for the child and yourself as well. If at any time you think you can’t do this, you have options. It’s better to figure out what you want to do now while she’s so young than once she’s had time to bond with you.”

Jason looks torn by either prospect, so Tim cuts in with a polite, “Thank you, doctor. We’re aware of our options. As you said, this has been quite a shock, and we have a lot do discuss. However, we would rather the baby not be left indefinitely in the hospital while we do that. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.” Kerry clears his throat, uncomfortable. “The attending nurse has a few papers to give you, commonly asked questions and the like. Just an overview of care for the next week or so, but if there’s any concern—anything at all—I’ve included my emergency phone number and email.”

“Thank you.”

He hesitates a further second, before excusing himself. There’s hardly any time to process that, before the nurse has returned, Luisa in her arms.

“Here she is,” she murmurs softly, almost a coo as she presents the baby to them.

When Jason hesitates a half-second too long, Tim immediately reaches out to pick up the swaddled infant. He may have done a little bit of research and YouTubing earlier to ensure a little more confidence when holding her.

Today, Luisa’s eyes are actually open—barely—though unfocussed. She has no reaction for Tim other than a slight scrunching of her nose and futile wriggle against the blankets keeping her wrapped like a baby burrito. Her skin’s blotchy and a bit greasy looking, and she still resembles a potato, though maybe a bit less wrinkled today.

Jason puts the carrier down, and while he appears intent on whatever the nurse is telling him—either congratulations or the infant care Kerry promised—Tim busies himself with figuring out how to put the infant in the carrier.

Does she really need that many straps and buckles to keep her in? It’s not like she’ll even have the coordination to escape for another two years…

Eventually, he manages it, however, and picks up the carrier by the handle; he sees now why Jason felt so awkward with it before, it doesn’t exactly feel convenient.

“…and that’s it,” the nurse is saying, while Jason nods.

I highly doubt that’s it.

He doesn’t say that out loud, though, if only for Jason’s sake; instead, he smiles and says, “Thanks for everything.”

“You take care now,” she admonishes. “The first week is hard on new parents.”

“No kidding,” Jason replies with a laugh that anyone else might call nervous, but which Tim recognizes as bordering hysteria.

Time to leave. “I’ve got no doubt we’ll manage. We’ve been in tougher situations.”

That seems to penetrate some of the panic the other man is working himself into. He blinks as if suddenly remembering who he is and how much they’ve survived.

“Yeah,” he agrees, a little shaky but surer. “We have.” He takes a deep breath, offers an actual attempt at a charming smile at the nurse, before turning to Tim. “We should get going.”

“We should.”

He still makes no move to take the carrier, but Tim doesn’t comment on it; he’s sure in the next days and weeks Jason will be easier around the baby. But right now, he’s not able to do it, and that’s the whole point to Tim being there.

They turn to leave, baby safely in her carrier between them; when the nurse calls out a parting, “Congratulations!”, Tim pretends he doesn’t notice Jason flinch.

⁂⁂⁂

Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of these emojis as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels 🤯mind blown 🤬god damn cliffhanger 😫 whyyyyyyy?!?!?

Next Chapter

[awfully-sadistic]

Spooktober Quickie #4

“A six-person rig?” Dot Dreadful asked, peering around at her partners for this round of cleanup duty. She was currently surrounded by a team of six people, paired up in twos. Eager young faces mingled with apprehension because it was a thing they had all wanted yet it wasn’t a fun activity to do. “Wouldn’t that be a little dangerous?” she asked into her comm, linked back to Homebase. On the other end sat Bruce Wayne filling in as a sorts while the Fury’s attended to matters on the other side of the world with superheroes to fill in the ranks.

“Normally, yes, but I didn’t trust just four of you to go out on your own.” Bruce commented back, sounding static-y and distant on the other end. He had an almost detached way of speaking but by now, Dot knew he meant well. He might have been emotionally stunted, but he managed to show he cared in other ways. Such as sending his little horde of Robins to protect her while they did a last-minute sweep for an Ultron-infected zone somewhere in an urban neighborhood.

“Why do we hunt in fours anyway?” Timothy “Tim” Drake asked, the only other person aside from Dot that had experience in the rig. Beside him stood his elder (adopted brothers) Richard “Dick” Grayson and Jason Todd and his younger (adopted) brother, Damian Wayne. Duke Thomas might have been a Robin once, but he usually went by as The Signal and would not be excluded in a line-up of Robins, past and present. The girls, on the other hand, made up of Batgirls and affiliated members of the Bat Family stood by with Bruce Wayne, prepared to hop in at a moment’s notice.

At the moment, despite the many people surrounding Dot, no one had an answer for Tim’s question. It had always just been a thing, to hunt in fours, and there hadn’t been an confirmation about whether it was a rule or not and nobody wanted to ask the Fury’s anything unless they had wanted to be ridiculed like Clint Barton.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jason interrupted, an attempt at keeping the conversation flowing. “because all that matters is that I’m finally going to be paired up with Dot—”

“Actually,” Dot gently cut in, giving Jason a sheepish smile. “Damian and I are already paired up.”

“WHAT?!” Jason’s voice carried over the fences, causing heads to turn. Not all the heads belonged to the group.

Dick hissed, “Keep your voice down! You’re going to give up our hiding spot!” he warned because as everyone knew, the starting zone wasn’t exactly the safest spot for any of them. There was and will be much discussion about the order of how everyone teamed up but for Dot’s sake, it was passed on when Bruce agreed with Dick.

“The teams are already made up,” he clarified. “Dick and Jason. Tim and Duke. Dot and Damian.”

“That’s a load of bull—” Jason was starting to say, not one to immediately give up his grievances if he thought it could give him his way.

Damian was holding Dot’s hand, giving Jason a smug expression. Jason was inches away from knocking it off but he didn’t want to look bad in front of Dot—whom everyone had been desperately trying to impress. “Mother said she would feel comfortable with me,” he gloated and he was half-right. Damian was a child by regular standards and Dot just naturally sided with them. It was something that dawned on Jason right away. It showed on his face, looking just as smug as Damian.

“Because you’re a fucking child. No wonder.”

Damian jutted his lower lip out, kicking Jason in the shin. There would have been a brawl in the middle of the starting zone if Bruce hadn’t interrupted.

“There’s a strange anomaly that’s showing on the map ahead of you guys, is everything alright?”

“Aside from Jason and Damian?” Dick chuckled, raising two fingers towards his ear to secure his earpiece, “we’re fine. We’re about to move on.”

“Be careful,” Bruce was warning, “Take another look around. Something seems off.”

No one could understand what Bruce was saying or worse yet, what he might have been seeing. Eyes scanned the area in front of them; they were in the backyard of some old abandoned suburban house. Ultron’s clones had long ago ran off any human who might have lived in the neighborhood and it looked as deserted as—

“Mmm, I appreciated that little murmuring you did in my ear.” Jason all but purred, turning his red helmet to look over at Dot. She looked as bewildered as any one else in the party.

“…That wasn’t me, love.” Dot admitted, a little worried about what Jason had heard and where he had heard it from. Jason’s head jerked back, looking between the group to see if this had been a weird joke.

“You just didn’t whisper into my comm right now?”

“No, dude. If she did, we would have ALL heard it…” Duke said. This much was true; all of their commlinks were connected so even if Dot had whispered something in Jason’s ear (like he had wanted), everyone would have been privy to it.

“What did this voice say?” Tim asked, looking towards Jason with concern.

“Did it say you’re a dumb ass?” Damian asked.

“That’s not fucking funny—”

“What the hell is that?” It had been Dick that had pointed towards a figure across the yard, standing absolutely still and just watching the group interact. Everyone’s heads turned, eyes drawn towards the mysterious figure that dwelled at the beginning of the yard, almost on the other side of the neighbor’s fence. There had been a break in the wooden pillars, and despite the area being deserted, there had been that lone person just watching them.

“Have they been there all this time?” Dot whispered, tucking Damian closer. But Damian was the one who pushed Dot behind his smaller body, preparing to take care of her just like his older brothers were planning on doing. “It doesn’t look like a clone.”

“…No, not at all. It’s kind of creepy,” Tim agreed in a hushed whisper. All of them had the sudden understanding or perhaps a warning built in them that told them not to speak too loudly. Not to draw attention to themselves. Not even Jason wanted to raise his voice to a yelling pitch he’d usually use on people who unnerved him.

But this was just too much.

“This had to be the weird thing Bruce saw on the scanner,” Dick murmured, still perplexed about this figure and the disembodied voice Jason had heard in his ear. “Let’s go…”

It was a strange sensation, pulling away from the yard to cut through the abandoned house and to end up on the other side where the figure had been waiting on the opposite end of the street. It caused everyone to stop in their steps.

“What… the fuck…” Jason so eloquently put.

“I think we better get out of this neighborhood fast.” Duke agreed in a more articulate sense. “I hate to sound like those old guys, uh, Steve and Chris, but i’m not getting any good vibes about this.”

Dot nodded in agreement, her own Mama Bear protective urges surging forward to turn the boys around and perhaps go down an alleyway. It sounded bad but it was in the opposite direction of where this mysterious figure had been standing.

The many bootsteps of Robins and Dot’s little feet pattered against the concrete as they took off in a brisk stride. There was no walking this day. Down the alleyway they went, past many houses they couldn’t recognize, many landmarks they couldn’t distinguish. The whole neighborhood seemed to pass by a blur which was okay with all of them; the more distance they put between themselves and that weird… thing, the better.

“Where did you guys go?” Bruce asked suddenly.

It caused a few of the Robins to jump though Tim was the one who answered, “We’ve been here all this time. Were our comms not picking up?”

“Negative.” Bruce clarified, “It was static. Did you see anything about that anomaly—”

Bruce went to static again and by this time, it had dawned on Dot why—for a person who played a little too many horror games, it could only mean one thing. As Dot swept her gaze around, lo and behold, that… thing was standing right across from them. It was always at a distance where it looked like a mere humanoid shape, unable to tell any features, all in black and seemingly very tall if it looked tall from a distance. It was unnerving. Unnatural.

“We got to get out of here,” Dot said, causing the boys to draw their gaze to where she had hers.

“Oh, what the fuck?” Jason cursed again, not short on sharing the enthusiasm of bewilderment between all of them. For some reason, it had never occurred to the group to use the weapons they had with them but perhaps that was why they hadn’t. There might have been something interfering just like with the commlink to Bruce.

The group spun on their heel, anxious to give themselves as much room away from that thing as possible. Everywhere they went, it seemed to follow. Always at a distance away. An air of anxiousness seemed to drift along with it but perhaps that was the group, tense about such a strange occurrence and unable to escape its clutches. The city soon turned into a maze with Bruce coming in and out of communication intermittently. Alleys and shops became obstacles, they soon got turned around and Dot felt like it was a horrible cheapened version of Silent Hill. She panted at the side of a building, holding onto it as she tried to catch her breath.

“I fucking hate this,” she gasped. “Why is it following us? This has never happened in the rigs before.”

“It’s just our luck we’ve be the first ones to experience it,” Dick tried to joke, giving Dot a comforting rub on the back to help her catch her breath and perhaps soothe her. She straightened and gave him a thankful smile. He returned it and also added, “Don’t worry. I’m sure Bruce has something in mind. He has to have some kind of idea what we’re dealing with.”

“Yeah, like if we’re in any trouble at all,” Duke said.

Dot wanted to believe in their words and because they had sounded so sure, so confident, and believed in Bruce so much, she could believe it. But as she drifted her gaze towards the shadowy figure that had been trailing them from a distance, it just seemed hopeless.

After she had caught her breath, they ran off again. Twisting and turning, until they ended up in someone’s backyard once more.

“AW MAN, IS THIS WHERE WE STARTED?!” Jason asked throwing his arms up in frustration. By now, he didn’t care if he shouted to the heavens and that thing ate his face. He was tired of being terrorized by it. Tim and Duke were leaning on each other, breathing heavily, deeply. Robin had been leaning his forehead against the wall, also trying to catch his breath. Damian and Dot were huddled close, Damian being the little protector he was had been insistent that Dot stay behind him—she humored him but the first sign something was going down, Damian better believe she’d throw herself in danger before he had the chance to.

“It looks like it,” Dick sighed, patting his chest as a slight cough came from his throat. “If this is someone’s idea of a joke, I’m going to batarang them in the legs and hopefully off a roof.”

Jason pointed, “That’s my idea of fun.”

Dick gave Jason a rueful smile through his mask before looking around. As expected, that figure was on the opposite end of their position. Standing just inside the neighbor’s yard, on the otherside of the broken fence.

Jason grimaced, mad. Angry. Upset. He’s an angry boy and he didn’t like to be pushed around. The family was honestly surprised he lasted so long but that might have been the influence of this thing, swaying their emotions, steering or clouding their judgement. But Jason, his judgement hadn’t always been the best. He decided to use the weapons they had on them as if realizing they had been there for the first time.

“Jason, don’t…” Tim warned, pushing off Duke. “you don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“If it can bleed, I know what WILL happen.” Jason threatened, both pistols raising up like the crazed pitched tone in his voice.

Before the first bullet had the chance to exit its chamber, there had been another explosion; a dark armored SUV came barreling out of the side of the yard, completely running over the black figure as it stood in its spot.

Katherine Kane, also known as Batwoman, kicked her driver’s door open and stepped out, looking as heated as Jason. She looked around before spotting her family on the otherside of the fence.

“Where is it?” she demanded, “I’m going to kick its ass.”

The group of Robins gaped and Dot was more inclined to admire the kickass entrance. Kate spent no time marching right up to the boys and pushing past them to personally rescue Dot herself. She knelt down, making sure the most coveted woman in the Haushold had been unharmed. Hands on her face and all over her body, she made a thorough job of searching.

“What is it?” she asked, still having no answer for the strange happenings that surrounded the party. “What caused you guys to go dark? Is it another stupid ass clone? I’ll beat it up if the boys can’t handle it.”

Jason just about bristled, “I WOULD HAVE HANDLED IT IF YOU DIDN’T JUST RUN IT OVER WITH THE BATMOBILE!”

Kate turned towards the SUV version of a Batmobile. Then she looked back at Jason, then the boys down the line. There was something disappointing in her face but she didn’t remark on it. She’d probably wait to tease the boys about it later but at the moment, she knew that they were overdue to be home. She jerked her head, sending the boys on their way, “Come on, we’re going home.”

And Kate had the pleasure of being Dot’s knight in shining armor, carrying her to the SUV like a knight carrying the princess to her steed.

[the-ghost-writers]

Under a Blanket of Stars

SWF piece about the heroes of Darkest Dungeon getting a well-deserved break and listen I just want about these people actually being happy for once. 

Also, @hotmilky is like 90% of the reason why I wrote this

“It reminds me of the farmstead. The stars, the way they twinkle, it’s just like the crystals.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that damned place.” Sneering at the memory, Dismas pulls his eyes away from the stars above him. Instead, he lets his gaze linger to the grounds of the estate, his shared sitting place with Reynauld on the abbey roof giving him a clear view of Hamlet. The other heroes scurry about, jumping between the barracks, tavern, medical ward, and the abbey, albeit the still broken abbey is the least popular of them all. The forge has gone cold as the blacksmith has gone to sleep and the guild is empty from it being too late in the night for anyone to want to train. Just the trinket stand is open; the nomad isn’t actually selling at this ungodly hour, only keeping around to talk with Katherine and discuss the value of their findings. 

But the tavern is teeming with life, faint sounds of revelry coming from it as the heroes of Hamlet rejoicing in falling another evil titan of this cursed island. Dismas himself was among them, getting drunk off good vibes and lousy beer before leaving and coming to the abbey. Stealing Reynauld away from his duties, he dragged his boyfriend to the roof where they sit now, near the edge of the abbey so that they can enjoy the sight of the stars. 

Dismas leans against the crusader and looks to Reynauld’s scruffy face, the knight’s helm set down beside him. “You know what the sky reminds me of?” The holy man looks down at the highwayman who’s truly about to earn his title of a bandit, making a small questioning sound. Dismas tugs down his neckerchief and shows his scarred grin as he speaks. “Your forehead, they’re both fuckin huge.”

Reynauld’s hands fly up and cover his head as he turns his body away from his rude, ass of a boyfriend. “It’s not that big!” Dismas cackles as the stoic knight is reduced to a blushing mess. It’s not long before the two of them settle down again, the crusader still grumbling a little as he wraps an arm around Dismas to pull him close. 

The estate below seems to be winding down for the night, lights flickering out and people heading off to bed. The same tired spell hits the couple sitting atop the abbey, leaving them drowsy in each other’s hold. A gentle tap on Dismas’ shoulder brings him to look up at his knight in shining armor. But Reynauld’s gaze is stuck on the stars, not wavering despite the highwayman’s staring. Dismas scoffs and goes back to resting his eyes when what was a tap in now a rough shove on his arm. Shaken awake, he’s shocked when Audrey sits her royal butt on the very edge of the abbey and dangles her legs off the roof as she tips her hat in greeting. “You two havin a good time?”

“Argh!” Groaning like the bitch he is, Dismas glares daggers at the graverobber. “The fuck are you doing here?”

She sticks her tongue at him. “Saw you two sitting on the roof and decided to bug you.

Putting an arm across his chest, Reynauld dips his head to her. “Good evening, Audrey.” As he speaks, that town’s plague doctor comes up from behind and stands beside her girlfriend, arms held behind her back with her mask pulled down and dangling from the strap around her neck. “And good evening to you too, doctor.”

Paracelsus nods in acknowledgment but doesn’t turn her head to do so, Audrey simply tips her hat again. But it’s all ignored because Dismas pokes the knight in the jaw and grits his teeth. “Don’t be nice to them, I’m trying to make them go away.”

Laughing, Reynauld swats the finger away. “Some of us have manners.” 

Sitting up straight and pursing his lips, the highwayman scowls. “I have manners!” Turning around and planting his boot against Audrey’s back, he puts a little pressure on her as if he were about to push her. “I could shove you off you know. There’s nothing you could even do to stop me.”

Turning her head, the grave robber gives him a vicious grin. “Then do it, pussy.” Para chuckles to herself as her lover gets in yet another spat with her fellow criminal before going back to watching the stars and making out constellations. 

Suddenly, there’s a loud bang as the hatch to the roof flies up. “Reynauld!” Storming up the ladder and getting to her feet, Junia marches across the stone in a warpath that brings her to the crusader. The man is made familiar with fear when she gets close enough to make out the vestal’s face, a muscle under her eye twitching as she looms over the warrior. “You let The Holy Flame die out?” Her shouting is loud enough to carry throughout the night, accented by her slamming a boot against the roof. “The only job you had was to feed it logs to keep it alight, but you abandoned your duties to be with-” Her words get caught in her throat, released in pissed scream before she narrows her eyes on the crusader. She opens her mouth to carry on but stops, closing her eyes and letting her shoulders sag. “Damn it, Reynauld.” Dropping to sit beside him, she leans in and rests her arms on her legs, head tilted toward the ground as she gently shakes her head. “The damage is already done. There’s no point in getting mad anymore.” Putting a hand out, she huffs. “Audrey, could I have a smoke?”

Reynauld’s shocked look goes ignored as the grave robber reaches into a pocket and pulls out a ratty homemade cigarette, passing it to Reynauld to give to Junia. “The holy saint is de-stressing like the rest of us common folk? Blasphemous.”

Raising her head, Junia sticks the cig in her lips and cups her hand around it, creating a holy flame in her palm to light it. Taking a drag, she pulls it away and lets the smoke drift out. When she’s empty, she gives the robber a smirk. “Fuck off.” Audrey giggles in response before Dismas ropes her back into their argument, not a fan of being pushed aside and ignored. 

Eventually, he stops whining about them being there and settles back into snuggling up with Reynauld, even if the armor he wears doesn’t make for a comfortable pillow. The minutes dwindle by in silence, all eyes cast above to watch as more and more stars appear in the absence of the sun’s light. The quiet momentarily broken when another set of heroes make their way to the roof, Barristan about to shout at everyone to ask why they’re atop the abbey when Missandei jabs him in the rips to shut him up. Bringing a finger to her lips to hush him, she comes over to stand behind Junia, her crossbow slung over her shoulder, never without it just like always. The man-at-arms stays beside her, arms crossed and frowning, although his grumpy mood fades away from the beauty of the night sky. The two soldiers are far from the last ones to come up to the abbey roof, people trickling up the steps and joining the group in watching the stars. Within the hour, every hero in Hamlet is gathered to watch the stars; what they do is split between those mourning their losses, some taking a moment to relax, a few taking in the sight, and others contemplating what the future might hold. 

As if in a picture, not a soul moves and no one dares speak, each of them looking to the stars that are so far away yet look so close. But it’s shattered by the gentle strum of a lute and the somber voice of the jester. “Blast. This silent comradery makes me want to live to see tomorrow.” All eyes turn to Jingles, but he cares not as his head his bowed and shaking from side to side. “To actually want to see your horrid faces again. Ha, what a joke.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a flask and offers it to Shaggy, his tone picking up and gaining momentum. “Seems we’re doomed to suffer another day.” 

The houndmaster scoffs and swipes the flask from cloth covered hands, taking a single swig before coughing it out and sputtering while doing so. Holding up the container, he shakes it in annoyance. “What the hell kind of whiskey is this?”

The jester plucks the strings on his lute, and one could practically hear the grin in his voice. “It’s not drink at all, it’s fish pee. You really shouldn’t drink from that you don’t know of.” He ends it with a laugh, joined by Shaggy, and that’s all that needed before the gathered party breaks from their frozen places and get loud as they delve into conversations. The night comes to life, bursting with laughter from everyone spreading out and enjoying themselves while within the confines of the abbey’s roof.

Audrey sits and leans against stone as Paracelsus has her head in her lap, the grave robber playing with her girlfriend’s short hair as she speaks to Alhazred, going into painful detail about all the beautiful qualities their semi-friendly neighborhood abomination has and loudly stating that the occulist she pursue his desires to ask the man out. The thin guy nearly faints when he moves his hands away from his face and catches sight of Bigby watching him. Pulling his coat up and turning to hide, leaving the scarred man to his own devices. The abomination pulls his cloth a bit more over himself and turns in confusion, leaving the situation with Alhazred untouched. Instead, he gives his attention to Baldwin as goes on speaking of old tales about the kingdom he used to rule, describing the wondrous people and spectacular arts. His mask is off, his diseased smile shining brightly as he loses himself in memories, but he’s brought back to the present when Bigby goes to sit beside him as it’s the only space left. They both stop, the story on pause, before the leper king moves himself to make room for the chained man and carries on without so much as a twitch of a grimace. On the other side of the roof, Damian raises his arms to the sky and shouts the praise of The Light while, just a few feet away, Boudica is slamming a fist on the ground and cussing up a storm in a language no one else knows. Between them is a flat top chimney and around them is a crowd cheering as Damian is the undefeated arm wrestling champion. The flagellant defeated Baldwin first, followed by demolishing Tardif until Boudica tried his strength; while close, the hellion still lost and Damien has bested the last of the strongest in the hamlet. Yet the crowd parts as another challenger approaches. Amani approaches the chimney, barking at the flagellant to come back and face her. Eyes hidden by his hood, only Damian’s righteous grin is showing as he set his right arm down, ready to crush the new girl. The shieldbreaker doesn’t move for a couple of seconds, merely staring at the man’s arm before shrugging and putting her own arm on the chimney. Damian’s grin vanishes when Amani puts her wrapped up stump up and gently pulls back. Bowing his head, he both forfeits and apologizes to her, gaining a laugh as she nudges his shoulder and assures him it’s fine because she was kind of planning on having him do that. Still at the edge of the abbey, tired from interacting with all their friends and fellow heroes, Dismas and Reynauld are once again watching the stars. Their arms are wrapped around the other as they start losing themselves to sleep, soothed by the comfort of their lover and the security of those around them. The highwayman lets out a long sigh and rests his head on Reynauld’s shoulder. “Gods…I’m just thinking about all I’ve said and…” He lets the word linger as his eyes are looking above. “Now I’m going to think of your giant forehead every time I look at the sky.”

“Feh,” Cracking a smile, the crusader cups Dismas’ chin and pulls his gaze to him. He looks into those hurting eyes, yet it warms his heart to see the life in them. “You’re such an ass.” Closing his eyes, he leans in to kiss him on the forehead, pulling Dismas against him and returning to the loving silence of the night.