#also will being taken over by jason would have made him even more useless

[iknownancy]

i think one thing that really bothered me about will‘s narrative in tsats is that he feels like a new character and not one that apparently been‘s around way before tlo. the narrative feels disrupted, there are no mentions of his life before nico, or anything that isn‘t directly tied to nico. tsats feels more like nico‘s story and less like will‘s because there is also nothing that ties will to tartarus, no goal, nothing. this is where apollo should have appeared and given will a prophecy on his own, and it shouldn‘t have been hades. that would have given will a clearer arc, instead of just coming in terms with nico‘s darkness.

[salparadiselost]

The bitty universe is so good omg 💜 thank you and jube and birbteef, ahh I can't wait to see where you take this universe (I mean I can and will but also know my brain is spinning it around like a yoyo)

Thank you! Thank you!

We have been having a ball writing the bitties. They are so versatile and adorable. But that underlying sense of horror… I think that’s delicious.

Here’s a small snippet! I hope you enjoy:

“You little shits, get away from that!” Bruce yelled, chasing the itty bitties away from the shoe they had begun to tear apart.

Last week he made the mistake of showing them a documentary about important inventions throughout history. He thought it was a safe, albeit maybe boring, subject for them.

He was wrong.

Now they were taking everything apart to see how it worked. Everything.

The itty bitties paused, blinked, and then scrambled with the pieces of shoe.

“No!” Bruce yelped as he watched Jason physically tear the tongue out of his $800 Italian leather loafers. Tim had the shoelaces and kept being distracted by them to hunt them despite the fact they were hanging from his mouth. Dick had the sole which he had been chewing on.

They took their bounty with them as they scampered out. They chirruped merrily and Bruce got the distinct sense they were laughing at him.

“Those little….” Bruce picked up the remnants of shoes and frowned. “I’m going to need to replace the pair.”

“Can’t you get them some training?” Clark asked from the bed shoes off and watching Bruce with a disapproving frown.

Clark… wasn’t the biggest fan of the itty bitties. Dogs and cats he was fine with, hell he even liked them, but the itty bitties…

Clark never said it outright, but Bruce could tell. Clark avoided them. He never touched them. Their antics earned frowns and annoyed eye twitches instead of the bursts of affection that their shenanigans inspired in Bruce.

Clark never hit them. He never showed them any aggression whatsoever. Bruce would kick him out the moment he dared try, but it was clear that he wished Bruce didn’t have them.

“I’ve taken them to training,” Bruce said with a sigh. “It wasn’t a good fit.”

Bruce frowned at the memory. He had tried to take Dick and Jason to training only once before he had adopted Tim.

He had shown up at the gymnasium with his two bitties both fitted into their chest harnesses because Bruce had researched that those were the best options for a lead. Dick and Jason didn’t love their harnesses. They more enjoyed playing in them and tangling each other up in the straps than actually wearing them.

But they were obedient enough to allow them, especially because harnesses meant they got to go outside or into town.

The moment Bruce had walked in holding onto the leashes that were attached to the harnesses, the trainer had immediately frowned.

“Those things are useless,” he said to Bruce’s face. His bitties crowded around his legs, chirping anxiously as a stranger got too close. “Your bitties will never be trained if you use those.”

Instead, he had given Bruce two noose collars that were spiked on the inside to intentionally cause pain.

Bruce had hated the twisting, awful feeling that curled in his stomach when he slipped the collars onto his bitties’ throats. They looked up at him with their huge eyes, so completely full of trust, and Bruce’s chest physically clenched at the sight.

“Won’t these hurt them?” He asked while staring at Dick as the bitty shook his head and scratched at the uncomfortable collar with a back leg. He was already beginning to try to pull it off. “I read that their necks are delicate and very sensitive.”

“If they follow directions, then they won’t get hurt at all.”

The rest of the class had been a complete disaster. Dick and Jason were wary of the stranger and they didn’t take well to having a lead handed over to him. They were confused by the commands. They were punished for every sign of confusion. Their curiosity was quickly turning into fear as the stranger drove spikes into their throat with every mess-up. They ended the night hiding behind Bruce’s legs absolutely refusing to come out as Bruce yelled at the so-called trainer for making his bitties bleed.

The trainer said that his bitties would never be trained. Bruce said that he didn’t want them trained if it meant beating them into submission.

Clark huffed, rolling his eyes. “Maybe you could take them to different training?”

Bruce shrugged. “I don’t mind them the way they are. I love that they get into mischief and attack the world with curiosity. Training usually destroys that.”

Because most times it breaks a bittie’s spirit into a hundred pieces.

“I mean, you’re not going to keep living with them being so wild are you? There has to be better options. statistically, most itty bitties get either in their second home or repurposed by age eight-“

“I’m not fucking giving them up,” Bruce snapped, practically growling. “Do you hear what you’re even saying? Re-purpose. Do you even know what that means?”

Clark fell silent, and Bruce heard him shift on the bed. “No,” he admitted. “Why? What does it mean?”

[jflashandclash]

Is it limiting to write TFMO after already posting TOO, is there any struggle to build the characters up to how they were in the beginning of The Whispers of a Snake?

I've been loving the younger Pax brothers and newer characters like Lou Ellen and Mercedes. It's also cool to see small differences like Pax playing more with gender which wasn't as present in TOO.

(Hi btw, glad to see you back after so long.)

HI JACE! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE ASKS! you have no idea how much they mean to me and how much they encourage me to keep at this!

*rolls up my sleeves*

*puts on my nonprescription glasses for effect*

Let's fucking GO--

Yes.

Yes there is.

Because of this-->

stoic piece of--

(I know. this is an old picture. He should have a combo of dreads, braids, and quarter shave in the old school version. And WAY less facial scars. I told myself to make drawings. one d a y.)

In my main series, you might notice that Axel....

Can be comically useless. Don't get me wrong. He's meant to be a bad ass and have so much complicated turmoil to work through. But, keep a counter on how many times he gets taken out of a final fight before he actually gets to fight. Or gets his ass kicked.

Book 1: Aphrodite kneecaps him. On a sinking ship he didn't want shipped.

Book 2: Brothers being Brothers, blasting Axel's bluster with a bullet

Book 3: he gets to fight. But. Almost dies by praetor. Almost drowns by human fire hose.

Book 4: Almost dies by childhood fear of water puppy. Almost dies by half-brother's mom's parental skills.

Most of Riordon's plots revolve around a Hero's Journey, often times. His characters are normally rising bad asses. Axel already had his hero's journey when you meet him in Traitors of Olympus. It is well established and agreed upon by the other characters that Axel is a bad ass, even though you rarely see him win a fight outright. I get a certain amount of pleasure from the "oooOoooo, he's a bad asssss, when he's fighting oversized pidgeonnnnns with a frying pannnnn--"

My secret with Axel is he spends more time In Need of Rescuing than doing the rescuing. This works (oh gods--it does work? Right? Right guys? He seems cool--please--) because he has the presence, both in how he acts and how others react, of someone who is used to being in command and can command well. People respect him because of past heroics, even if you're not seeing him kick ass here. (How many of his fights has he won against Reyna, hrm?) Otherwise, I spend four books emotionally had physically kicking the cho out of him.

..... then comes the prequel

"Oh, fuck, I need to make Axel ACTUALLY cool--"

Axel is meant to be many things. In the first four books, he was meant to be

I wanted to take figure that looked like he would embody everything of toxic Hispanic Machismo, and then make them a hyper-feminist, social justice warrior that super supports their nonbinary little siblings, someone to fight a nasty stereotype from when I was growing up

Worthy of Reyna. Yes. Axel was made for Reyna, and they STILL SCREWED IT UP--GSDI REYEL, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO--

But in the prequel, he's meant to be the parallel to the Greek's Percy and Rome's Jason. Lord knows (hail Kronos) that Riordan didn't set Luke up well for that. (I can do a different deep dive into this.) That means, not only does Axel need to progress, but he needs to rise above those around him. And he's surrounded by titans, mythical monsters, and serial killers like Jack and Flynn that can alter people's wills and health with words and songs. I'm going to end up truncating Axel's character development more than I want to, but, by all rights, he should have his own series-worth of adventures, and I believe he does.

It's just freaking HARD to go from humiliating and crushing someone for four books and then be like, "oh.... you need to... win here..."

Otherwise, Pax is relatively easy. Oh, except the Lamia thing. I might be, um, skipping over the Lamia thing. That is the one thing I just can't fit (we'll see) but the Trauma from--ehem, I mean the Massacre of Mount Othrys is more important to his character development. He has more pivot points, whereas Axel has long progression.

Jack was always meant to be a sweetie church boy that's got just a smidge of serial killer problem. Just a lil.

I'm SO freaking happy you like Mercedes and Lou Ellen. Mercedes is one of my favorite characters in Tales From Mount Othrys. <3 Her dialogue and scenes are tricky to write, but she's SO much fun to bring to life!

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR ASKS!

[landofwindandskyscrapers]

7/52 Wasp: A Review

Also: domestic terrorism for fun & profit

Also also: wow, the past really do be like that

So I guess this is starting to become a book review blog now.

Wasp is a very strange, weird book, to the point I didn't like it even though I don't feel it totally wasted my time.

By modern standards.

Because, and this is crucial, it was released in 1957.

I've said before that the past is a foreign country, and this book makes it apparent; to give an example, midway through the book, I realized that there were no female characters.

Or female bit-parts.

Or mention of any gender save from men at all.

And it goes deeper than that; the main character can just walk into a bar and…. magically find a pair of assassins to order around.

The novel starts with the protagonist…almost meekly accepting that he's being drafted in the Earth - Sirian war as a spy and saboteur because he was raised on a Sirian planet.

And there's no exploration of his feelings about, save bits and pieces that are…almost pro-forma?

It honestly feels like a lot of…. narrative technology? Wasn't yet available for book authors.

It’s also jarring how much more violent everything is, in an off handed way. Which makes sense; this is not a book that could have been written post-9/11, what with moral being “domestic terrorism is a fun & wholesome way to achieve your military aims”.

The strangest, yet most interesting parts are in what isn't said, but is taken for granted.

A lot of references are made to the boot camp for spies the protagonist went through - which impressively brings him 85% of the way to James Bond levels of competency - but we're never shown what the book camp was like, if he made any friends there…

In the Jason Bourne books, the source of his abilities* is a gripping mystery.

Here, it's still a gripping mystery, but the novel doesn't care.

I'm trying not to be too harsh on this book - I first got interested in it because it was advertised as a primer on saboteur activities and was bitterly disappointed.**

The alien culture is interesting - the little we see of it - in that it feels distinct. In the “other country over in Europe” kind of way, not “completely alien” kind of way, but still.

(Oh yeah, the aliens are basically human, the book is laughably bad at hiding this).

What I can recommend it for is as a window into the past.

*Side note: spies in fiction are superheroes, fight me irl if you disagree. The feats they perform are things that would take whole teams to accomplish in real life, their gadgets are just disguised tinkertech/supertech…hells, the villains in spy movies and superhero movies can probably waltz from one genre to the next, no adaptation necessary!

**Aside from the gadgets he has, the main character is so effective because….he has a truckload of cash he can bribe people with. I was actually reading this through the lens of the Ukraine war and I concluded it was useless for them.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Civilian

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jason Todd is used to saving the innocent. But he’s not used to them saving him. 

Word Count: 3,100 – One Shot

“Fuck me,” Jason groaned as he stumbled across the rooftops.

How he was able to even walk right now was beyond him.

He had Slade on the ropes. Just one more punch to put him off balance and Jason would’ve shoved a knife into his jugular and be done with him. But Slade had a few more tricks up his sleeve and decided to flee instead of finish a losing battle, so he ran like a coward. 

It left Jason utterly irritated and with a huge gash in his side, amongst other various injuries. 

He could’ve called one his “friends” or someone in his “family.” But he was stubborn. He wanted to be stronger than that. He wanted to prove that he didn’t need any of them. He was better than that. He was the best. And he’d risk bleeding out to prove it to them – or really…himself.

But his body wasn’t on the same page.

And it finally had enough.

Jason stumbled to his knees on a rooftop. He groaned as his vision became hazy.

His helmet had a protective system in place so no one could take it off if he was unconscious. They’d get a nice little shock if they tried. His identity would be safe even if someone stumbled upon his injured body… or corpse.

Jason managed to roll onto his back and was met with the smoggy Gotham sky.

“Get the fuck up,” he told himself aloud.

He blinked, trying to straighten and clear his vision.

But it was useless.

The last thing Jason remember seeing was the Bat signal reflecting off of the cloudy sky. Somewhere in the city, there was more crime to fight and he’d just be another asshole who thought he could put a stop to it.

Dying didn’t scare Jason anymore. He’d done it once before, and he could do it again. What did it matter now anyway?

But Jason didn’t die.

He woke up on a couch. Well, if one could even call it that. His 6’4 frame could barely fit on the thing. His legs were hanging off the end, not able to comfortably fit on the thing.

His head felt like it was having the worse hangover of his life. When he opened his eyes, he blinked at the incoming sunlight. Then he realized he wasn’t looking through the programming of his Red Hood helmet.

Then he touched his face to realize that his backup domino mask had also been removed, leaving his identity exposed. 

His eyes widened in slight panic as he looked around.

He appeared to be a in a small apartment – normal, no threats detected.

Then Jason looked down to realize he wasn’t in his uniform. In fact, his chest was bare and he was only in his black briefs. His autopsy scars on full display.

But just half a foot away from him, his clothes were neatly folded into a pile on the edge of the coffee table. His two guns were sitting right next to them.

Whoever had brought him here clearly didn’t see him as a threat. Stupid on their part. There were about two dozen other weapons hiding in the crevices of his clothes too.

But the more concerning thing was that Jason didn’t have a single wound on his body. The giant gash to his side that had made him faint and nearly die from blood loss was nowhere to be found. After all these years, Jason was still figuring out the side effects from being dumped into the Lazarus pit. But this couldn’t be related, could it?

Suddenly there was the sound of the apartment door opening.

On instinct alone, Jason shot up, grabbed one of his guns, and found his target.

What he wasn’t expecting to find was a beautiful woman, probably only just a little bit younger than him, standing with a coffees in a carrier tray and a bag in the other hand. She had earbuds in, further disorienting her from such a welcome. Her eyes went wide and the rest of her body was completely frozen.

After a few seconds, she slowly tugged her headphones out.

“Is the gun really necessary?” She asked.

But Jason could tell from her body language that she was scared.

“Who the hell are you?”

She had enough courage to glare at his tone. “I’m the person who saved your life, asshole.”

“Yeah? And how exactly did you do that?”

She seemed to be getting less scared and more angry with every sentence Jason said.

“If you put the fucking gun down, I’ll tell you.”

Jason hesitated before finally putting it down. Then his behavior caught up to him. Here was this stranger, who was clearly innocent and had helped him…and his first thought was to point a gun at the poor thing.

“Sorry,” he finally gasped. “It’s…a habit.”

She just eyed him, neither rejecting or accepting his apology.

She sat on the love seat opposite of the couch that he’d taken over.

With an innocent look, she slowly put a coffee cup on the table and the bag.

“I’m not much of a cook… so I picked up breakfast. It’s just a black coffee. I figured you didn’t like anything fancy.” 

“T-Thank you,” he stuttered out, trying his best not to sound harsh.

Those words were strange coming out of his mouth. And Jason couldn’t figure out if it was because he’d completely lost his manners or there wasn’t anything someone had done for him lately that warranted any sort of thanks.

“I’m sorry about taking off your clothes,” she suddenly said. “I would’ve given you something. But…well…I don’t have anything even close to your size. Even my oversized clothing wouldn’t have fit.”

Jason was about to tell her it was OK, but she continued.

“Not that I would’ve even been able to put it on you. I hardly got your clothes off.”

Jason smirked at that. “Speaking of which, how the hell did you get my helmet off.”

“Yeah…I managed to get you to come to for a minute or so.” Then she shifted in her seat, clutching her coffee tighter as if it was a security blanket. “I honestly just asked you very nicely. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone what you looked like. You were kind of just…a zombie or something and…took it off.”

Then he took her stature in. Jason knew he was a big guy. He was bigger than the majority of men. He’d only met a few women in his life that were taller than him, and they were all either Amazons or aliens.

This young woman was neither of those things.

“How did you get me off that roof?”

She laughed, seeing that he was trying to add it up in his head. “I’m definitely no Superman. My neighbor doesn’t have any other hobbies besides going to the gym. He owed me a favor.” Then her eyes widened. “Don’t worry, he didn’t see you without your helmet. He’s also sworn to secrecy.”

Jason shrugged. “It’s fine if he did. I can just kill him later.”

He saw her whole body tense up at that.

“Relax. I’m kidding.”

Her tension was released, but she didn’t find his joke very funny.

Then her eyes locked to the floor.

Jason took this chance to study her. 

Her hair was a bit of a mess. But there was still a halo around it as the sun shined from behind her. Her jeans were a bit baggy, but purposely so. She was wearing a band t-shirt that was so worn that there were a few holes in it.

Jason had to acknowledge that she was beautiful. But he had made note of that as soon as he’d pointed a gun at her.

“I ended last night with a life-threatening injury…amongst other things,” Jason said as he looked down at his body. “I woke up with not even a scratch on me. So why don’t you tell me how the hell that’s possible?”

She finally raised her gaze from the floor to him. Then she swallowed and clenched her jaw. It was clear she had been hoping for a scenario where Jason didn’t ask any questions, where he would just give his thanks and move on.

But she wasn’t that lucky. 

“Hey,” he said gently. “You’ve seen my face. You know who I am now. Whatever it is you’re scared to tell me, we’ll be even.”

She stared at him a bit longer before taking in a shaky breath. “I…umm…can do this thing.”

“Uh huh,” he encouraged.

“I can heal people by…umm…touching them?”

Jason sat back, letting the information settle. “Huh,” he said with small nod.

“I saved your life,” she told him. “All I ask in return is that you keep my secret.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he told her.

She nodded nervously, but didn’t seem fully convinced.

“What’s your name?” He asked her softly.

She looked unsure if she should tell him.

“I’m Jason. Jason Todd.” He offered to even the playing field.

She tilted her head, probably because she heard that name before. Everyone in Gotham had at some point. The tragic death of Bruce Wayne’s second adopted son. And then the dead son who had somehow come back, his death misidentified. There were hundreds of rumors about what really happened. But they all sounded ridiculous to her.

“Y/N,” she finally told him.

“Thank you for saving my life, Y/N.” He scratched the back of his neck. “But I have to ask why you did.”

After all, the neighborhood she lived in was weary of Gotham’s vigilantes. Some believed they were keeping them safe, while others thought they were just making things worse. It led to a general distrust of the masked heroes.

“They say the Red Hood used to be Robin,” she told him quietly.

“I don’t pay attention to what people say…”

Y/N leaned forward. “But is it true? Were you Robin back then?”

Jason ground his teeth together. “That was a lifetime ago.”

She watched him for a minute, working out whether she wanted to share something or not. 

“When I was a little girl, I was at the bank with my mom when a robbery went down. Things went bad and quick. They panicked, decided a little girl was the best hostage to grab. We barely got a few blocks away before Batman intervened. I was terrified, even of him. But Robin was with him…and he could tell I was scared. He wasn’t that much older than me, but he was so much braver. He held my hand until the police came. But even then I wouldn’t let go of him. So, he stayed with me until my mom got there.” She took in a deep and shaky breath. “It meant a lot to me.”

Jason controlled his expression, but he knew what she was talking about. He remembered that night. How he did was beyond him. But it didn’t feel long ago. He remembered thinking the little girl was pretty. 

Jason didn’t have a lot of friends back then. He came from the streets but lived in a mansion. He couldn’t figure out who he was back then. And it was hard to relate to other children. 

Back then, it was the most intimate interaction he had with someone his age. 

“Would you still have saved me last night even if I hadn’t been Robin?” 

This was all Y/N would get in terms of Jason admitting that he had been Robin that night.

Y/N shrugged and nodded. Then she cleared her throat. “The only thing saving this shit hole of a city is people doing the right thing.”

Jason stood.

The motion startled Y/N and she followed his action without even meaning to.

Now that he was standing on his own two feet, she truly understood just how absolutely massive he was. She was by no means short and she still felt like she was looking at a giant.

However, Jason misread her gawking for something else. “You don’t have to be scared of me, kid. I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her quietly.

“I’m not scared of you,” she said as her face suddenly felt hot.

Y/N didn’t know what she had expected to see under that red helmet last night. But she definitely wasn’t expecting a man handsome enough to be a model.

But then her brow scrunched, “And I’m not a kid.” Jason smiled – like, genuinely smiled. The muscles on his face forgot what that felt like.

He eyed the band t-shirt she was wearing: Fleetwood Mac – the Rumors album, to be precise.

“You’ve got good taste in music,” Jason complimented.

“Thank you,” Y/N mumbled.

A new tension filled the air.

Something neither of them have felt in awhile – if at all.

Y/N cleared her throat again, starting to feel too close to this large and beautiful man who was only standing in his briefs.

“You can use the shower if you want.”

Jason smirked. “Thanks, but I should get out of your hair. You’ve already done enough for me.”

He took a step toward her, realizing that he seemed to like seeing her reaction to his presence.

She stayed in place, but shifted her weight.

Jason lowered his head a bit. “Your secret is safe with me, Y/N. Thank you again…you saved my life.”

——————

Y/N and Jason couldn’t stop thinking about one another since that morning.

Jason had trust issues. And because of those trust issues, he learned not to rely on others. He refused to be anything besides independent. But those flaws were also the reason it was so hard for him to get close to anyone. He kept people at a distance so he could never be rejected or get his heart broken. It was problematic, but that was how he survived.

But Y/N had shown him kindness and then expected absolutely nothing in return. She just hoped he wouldn’t shoot her brains out when he finally came to.

Meanwhile, Y/N couldn’t remember the last time a man looked at her the way Jason had. Just thinking about the looks he gave her caused goosebumps to shiver across her skin. She’d seen the scars across his skin and knew he’d lived a rough life. And that wasn’t even including the scars his mind and heart held. She wondered who was the last person to help him or to just show him that they cared whether he lived or died.

It had been a few weeks and Y/N still couldn’t get Jason Todd out of her mind. Even now, as she sat on the rooftop of her building once again, eating a pizza she’d just picked up and washing it down with cheap red wine.

She almost spilled said wine all over herself when she jumped from the sound of someone dropping onto the roof from behind her.

Y/N whipped around to see Red Hood walking steadily toward her.

“Sorry. I tried to be loud so I wouldn’t scare you.” His voice sounded different from the helmet distorting it.

“Well, most people use doors and stairs…so I think the effort is pretty useless.”

Jason ignored her joke and pulled out a thick envelope that had been tucked on the inside of his leather jacket. 

He handed it to her.

Y/N was confused, but took it from his grasp anyway.

She opened it to find two tickets to see Fleetwood Mac on their reunion tour at Gotham City Stadium.

Her gaze shot up to Jason’s and then she did a double take at the tickets, making sure she wasn’t seeing things.

“How - What - Why?” She finally sputtered out the right question.

Jason just shrugged. “I owed you.”

“T-This is too much. I can’t accept this. These tickets must’ve cost a fortune,” she told him as she tried to hand the envelop back to him.

But he wasn’t having it and simply shook his head.

Y/N knew they cost a fortune because she had looked up tickets. Her heart had broken when she saw how far out of her budget the lowest prices were.

“Take them, Y/N. Please.”

She knew there was no point in arguing.

But she slowly looked up at him. “Would…ummm… Would you like to go with me?”

Jason blinked at the offer. “Seriously?”

Y/N laughed at his surprise. “Yeah, I mean, clearly you’re a fan, too.” Then she shrugged, now self conscious that she’d been too forward. “I don’t know. When was the last time you did something fun?”

Jason was shocked at how right she was.

“Oh, my God!” Y/N suddenly yelped.

Jason immediately jumped into action, grabbing both of his guns and stepping to Y/N in a protective stance.

“Jason, you’re bleeding!” She cried out, not realizing that he had just used his body as a human shield for her to defend an attack that wasn’t even happening.

He relaxed and followed her gaze to his forearm – the small patch of skin between his gloves and the rolled up sleeve of his leather jacket. He had been sliced by a knife. He probably needed to clean it before it got infected and stitch it up. 

“Y/N, it’s just a scratch.”

“Shut up,” she snapped. “Come here.”

Then he let her dragged him to the two fold-out chairs she kept on the roof.

Jason realized suddenly that he didn’t mind being bossed around by this woman. In fact, he kind of enjoyed it.

Without asking for permission, Y/N put her palm over his cut.

Jason watched as he felt a comforting warmth wash over the area of skin that she was touching. Within seconds, his cut was completely gone.

Y/N gave it a satisfied smile. No matter how many injuries she healed, the pride and relief never went away.

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” Jason was relieved his helmet hid the dumbstruck look that was surely on his face. 

Y/N didn’t seem to take the compliment very well and slightly folded into herself.

“So, will you?” She changed the subject quickly.

“Will I what?” But as Jason asked for clarification, he knew that he’d probably do anything Y/N would ask of him.

“Will you go to the concert with me?”

He nodded.

The nonverbal answer was enough for Y/N because she gave him a beaming smile.

In that moment, Jason wondered how he could ever push Y/N away like he had done with everyone else in his life. 

And for once, he allowed himself to feel happy.

Maybe he could keep letting himself be happy, as long as it included Y/N. 

---------------------------

Really, really loving writing for Jason Todd. I was a little exhausted with Marvel fandom.  Let me know what you think!

[themaribatpit]

Saturday Challenge: Double Crossover

Written by: The Maribat Pit   Prompt: Double Crossover Rated: M rating just to be safe (sexual references, mostly because of some very unsavory things Lila thinks and implies about Marinette.) Marinette x Jason Phantom of the Opera (specifically Hush Jason, from 2020′s Death in the Family).

A/N (Maribat fangirl): There is going to be a lot of class salt, Lila salt and some heavy duty character bashing.  I’m going to be upfront, there’s characters being called harlots. A/N (DC fanboy): My S.O. and I pretty much did karaoke while writing this.

Paris, 1875. Marinette worked in her parents bakery, while she loved her family dearly, she was dissatisfied with her current lot in life. She wished to become a singer, and everyday as she walked in the streets of Paris to bring flour to the bakery, she would stop and stare at the Conservatoire de Paris. The enchanting music and singing could be heard even in the streets.

Listening to music always reminded her of her favourite fairy tale told by her father, the one about  ‘Angel of Music’. She would sit on the street across the Conservatoire, close her eyes and listen to the beautiful music emanating from it. Once she tried to sing along, but passersby would be swift to yell at her to stop. They described her voice sounding like a rusty hinge.

Upon her 15th birthday, her parents presented to her a once in a lifetime opportunity. They had presented her with an approved application to the Conservatoire, they had saved enough money for tuition and would be sending her there to chase her dreams as an opera singer. Marinette held her parents tightly, thanking them constantly for the amazing opportunity.

That night, Marinette was unable to sleep, she was beaming with energy and excitement. She could not believe how her luck was changing, how she would be going to the musical academy of her dreams.

The next morning however she would be in a nervous panic for her first day of lessons. Running about the home, getting prepared, packing her bags. She even forgot to eat breakfast, she ran out the door with a croissant in her mouth, much to the chagrin of her parents.

However, her dream academy soon became a waking nightmare to her. She would be tormented daily by all her peers, especially one Lila Rossi, the prima donna of the academy. Every professor would sneer at her low birth, and did nothing when the others tried to sabotage her standing at the Academy.  She tried to keep her head held high, even as everyone else looked down on her for being a baker’s daughter. Marinette ignored the comments and rumours about how she was able to attend the prestigious academy.  Rumours that she dared not repeat, about how she and her parents must be criminals if they were able to afford to send her to the academy.  

It wasn’t enough for her to be stuck in the chorus, Lila Rossi wanted to make sure her place as prima donna of the academy was ironclad. A couple of the teachers felt that she was growing more temperamental, more complacent, and their eyes began to wander for a dancer to take her place.  The other dancers were unwilling to take her place, all except for Marinette, who saw it as a shining opportunity.  For Lila, this simply would not stand.  

The one time Marinette found a pair of scissors that had been used to cut the laces on her pointe shoes.  The same scissors that were missing from her sewing box days earlier. She decided that the time had come to confront Lila once and for all.

Marinette confronted her just before rehearsals began, scissors in hand, in front of everyone.  “Is it true?” she called, everyone turned to look at them.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lila gasped.  She looked down to see her wearing her worn out slippers, before looking back up at her face.  “You do know you’re meant to be wearing your toe shoes now, right? The show is in a few days.” she reminded her.

“I do,” she breathed, “I also know it was you, you’re the one who cut the laces on my pointe shoes.”

Lila gasped and stepped back, everyone else was shocked by the accusation. She looked away for a moment, and squeezed her eyes shut.  Marinette knew the trick well from their acting classes at the academy, she was getting ready to make it look like she was crying.  “Why? Why would you accuse me of something like this?” she made sure her voice wavered as she spoke, “what reason do I have to sabotage a background dancer’s shoes?”

Marinette knew she had lost the battle before it had even begun, every dancer would move to protect Lila and her crocodile tears.  Lila was the prima donna, the daughter of a diplomat, and she had the entire academy in the palm of her hand.  “Perhaps there was some mistake,” she muttered, walking away from her classmates rushing to defend Lila’s fake tears.  It was useless trying to explain that the scissors were stolen from her, and that this was an elaborate setup.  It was her word against Lila’s, as the directors tried to command the dancer’s attention, Marinette ran.  

Once again, she tried to keep her head held high, it wasn’t as if anyone would believe her when she told them about Lila’s machinations.   She made a habit of keeping her costumes and pointe shoes hidden.  On occasion bringing them home whenever she visited her parent’s bakery, somewhere that little saboteur would not even think to look for them.

Months later, tragedy struck again when she received a letter informing her that her parent’s bakery had been burned.  Her parents, her hopes, her dreams all burned to ash in one night.  It was made worse by the fact that one rehearsal, Lila snatched the letter out of her hands and read it aloud for the entire company of dancers and singers to hear.   She assumed that it would be some kind of love note, probably preparing to spread rumours about Marinette sneaking off into the night with a mystery lover.  Instead, Lila simply made a show of pitying Marinette, “poor thing, it’s worse than I thought.  Unless you can find a patron to support you, your days at the academy are going to be numbered.”

Just as the theatre managers had arrived, Marinette fled, keeping her head down as tears were welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision.  Since the day she arrived she had been mocked, humiliated, tormented simply so that one girl could have the adoration and sympathy of her fellow performers.  Through all the salacious rumours and lies, she tried her best to ignore them and carry herself through it all.  The loss of her parents, their bakery, and now Marinette’s hopes and dreams, it was all too much to bear.  

Marinette ran to an empty music room to cry her heart out, she sat right against the wall, knees curled up to her chest and sobbed into her legs. In this state of absolute despair, she began to sing a song of her favourite fairy tale that her father would sing to her whenever she had a nightmare.  She sang a soft, painful prayer for the Angel of Music and a farewell to her lost parents. “Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye…”, her singing was hoarse, off key, full of sorrow.

The more she sang, the harder she cried. Soon to the point that she could not complete the song. However, a disembodied voice sang the remaining verse for her. Marinette paused from her crying to look for the voice, it felt as if it came from everywhere and nowhere. It was hypnotising, elegant, enchanting. She walked out of the music room to try to find the source of the singing.

“Come to me, Angel of Music.” The voice sang, in a smooth tenor voice, luring Marinette as if she was a moth attracted to a flame. The voice led her to a musical hall, reserved only for the academy’s annual showcase. She turned the door knob, to her surprise, the door was unlocked. She peeked her head through the door to see a cloaked figure playing the organ, the source of the enchanting voice. “Insolent girl, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory.” The figure angrily sang “Ignorant fool, this prima donna.”

“Angel of Music, is that you?” Marinette tentatively asked the figure. The figure stopped playing, and turned around to face her. Marinette was taken aback by the figure, he was a tall man, wearing a red mask on the left side of his face. Another distinctive feature other than his magnificent voice was the white streak of hair and piercing green eyes.

“You are unlike any of the fools in this academy. You did not join this academy for fame or fortune. No, you came here because of your love of music.” The figure told her. He took a deep breath and composed himself, straightening his jacket. Then he raised an arm, reaching out to Marinette. “I am your Angel of Music, come to me Angel of Music.”  Marinette walks forward and accepts the Angel’s hand, thus beginning their first musical lesson together.

Marinette’s talent and ability in music skyrocketed with her extra-curricular lessons.   Her mysterious patron was also the one continuing to fund her education at the academy.  Meanwhile, no one else had the time to spread rumours about Marinette, not when there were rumours of a ghost haunting the Conservatoire.  

Unbeknownst to Marinette, she was the key to establishing control over a very profitable endeavour for her mysterious patron. The managers were being extorted to the tune of 20,000 francs and requested that box five remain open.  This money was nothing to them, especially when the sons and daughters of the wealthy and powerful were attending.  Very few had seen Jason’s face, and if they did, they would draw back in fear.   It was the result of a boyhood accident that left him changed and altered in more ways than one.  Taking control of the Conservatoire was merely the first step in taking control of an entire city.  This girl, Marinette, was the key to captivating their attention.  She would hold their attention and adoration as the rising star of the academy, drawing their eyes away from his growing influence and power.  Using talents and potential that they had cast aside, twisting their own hubris against them.  

Months later, everyone in the academy worked towards its annual showcase for its patrons, the nobility and all family members of its students. Lila had grown bored of tormenting Marinette, and had moved on to other victims.  She had her other dancers and singers wrapped around her little finger, and all eyes would be on her at the annual showcase.  

At last the day of the annual showcase had arrived, Lila sat at her personal preparation room, after all she would be the star of the show. She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, she then screamed in horror to see her dress tattered and in pieces.

In the days leading to the showcase the Director of Conservatoire de Paris had received threatening letters demanding 20,000 Francs, box 5 to remain vacant and worse of all to replace Lila Rossi with some baker’s daughter. Director Bourgeois scoffed at the threats, tossing the letter away.

The next day during the rehearsal for one of the ballet numbers, students and teachers paid no mind to the threats that were outlined in the letter. Until one of the dancers looked up and gasped in horror. The other dancers looked up to find the stagehand hanging from the rafters. The theatre soon bursts into screams of fear as they all see the dead body of the stagehand.   Director Bourgeois ordered all faculty members and students present to remain silent of the murder. This prestigious institution could not afford such a scandal this close to such an important showcase. As the Director inspected the body, he found a letter titled to him attached to the corpse of a stagehand.

Director Bourgeois read the second letter with shaky hands, it read “Monsieur Bourgeois, good day to you. It seems you did not take my threat seriously. I present to you this corpse to show my sincerity. I see you have a young daughter, pray that no harm would befall her. I shall reiterate my demands, 20,000 francs, box five remain vacant and Mademoiselle Marinette shall replace the harlot Lila Rossi.”

Director Bourgeois collapsed into his chair, wiping his sweat. Until he heard a scream from outside his office. He ran out as fast as he could to see Lila Rossi confronting Marinette. Crocodile tears flowed from Lila’s eyes as she accused Marinette of sabotage, purposefully doing so in front of the Director's office.  

“How could you Marinette?” Lila wailed, “Whatever your reasons, how could you do this to me? To the Conservatoire?”

Marinette merely said “Lila, don’t you stay in a private room with guards patrolling the hallway outside?” She shrugs, “I was in my dormitory last night. Besides, how could anyone sneak into your room at night, unless they were a phantom?”

Director Bourgeois goes pale at Marinette’s implication, he had to intervene quickly, before the situation got worse. He attempted to placate Lila, “Now now mademoiselles, I can’t punish anybody unless we have solid evidence. As the saying goes ‘the show must go on.’ Signora Rossi, as you are currently unable to perform, I’m afraid Mademoiselle Marinette will have to take your place.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the offer given to her, she could not believe it. Director Bourgeois himself offered her the star role for this year’s showcase. It is all as her Angel of Music said would happen. She accepted the role wholeheartedly and thanked the director profusely, she skipped back to the musical hall to begin rehearsals, now as the main lead.

Lila’s jaw dropped to see the director siding against her, how he gave away her role to that peasant without any hesitation. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, she stomped her way back to her bedroom to begin scheming the ultimate humiliation for Marinette. She was so distracted with her rage, she had not noticed a shadowy figure following her.

Lila planned to show the entire Opera house just who Marinette was, little more than a filthy peasant who got lucky.  She was supposed to have packed her bags and left months ago, after her parents and their pathetic little bakery burned down.  “This Opera Phantom had a lot of nerve calling me a harlot, when Marinette is probably his little harlot.” she muttered harshly in the darkness.  She searched the costume room for the lead actress’ dress, a long flowing gown that brushed against the floor.  It was made with the finest fabrics that money could buy, it almost broke Lila’s heart to sabotage it.  She would rather die than see it worn by some peasant girl, a pretender, a talentless sham of a performer.  Before she can lay hand on the dress to destroy it, a gloved hand reaches out and grabs her by the wrist.  A voice interrupts her, “What do you think you are doing with that?”

Lila slowly turns around to see a grotesque figure staring at her.  In the candlelight, she was horrified by the person she saw. The left half of his face was severely burned, almost completely disfigured. His bright green eyes flared with a fury that genuinely terrified Lila as the figure glared at her. She immediately drops everything and screams, as she runs out the door as fast as her legs would carry her, wailing and screaming how the ghost is trying to kill her. “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!” she wails as he chases her down. The Phantom pursues his prey. Just as Lila runs around a corner, the ghost is there waiting for her. She gives another horrified scream, falling to the floor and trying to crawl in the opposite direction. “No no no, please don't kill me!” She begged as tears blurred her vision.

Her howls and pleas of mercy attract nearby students, teachers and guards. They all arrive to see Lila screaming like a maniac on the floor, alone and raving about some ghost hunting her down. “The ghost is real! He is real I tell you! He’s going to kill me!” she sobbed. As Lila was being escorted out of the academy, gossip spread like wildfire. Within hours everyone would be talking about how Lila had lost all of her sanity because of the ghost.

They had no other choice at that moment, the show had to go on.  If they wanted the night to go smoothly, with no one noticing anything strange or peculiar, they had to meet the Phantom’s demands.  Marinette stood there, centre stage, with all of Paris’ most influential in the audience. She began to sing her show stopping aria.  

As she glided across the stage and looked out into the audience, her eyes searched for the man in the red mask.  She liked to imagine her Angel of Music beaming at her with pride, without him, she would still be that sad little girl crying in the music room.  She sang as loudly and as clearly as she could, hoping that her voice would pierce the heavens clearly enough for her mother and father to hear.  

As she reached her crescendo, she peaked with an E6. Her voice echoed across the entire hall with the sharpness and perfection of a veteran soprano singer. The audience collective dropped their jaws at the spectacle. Marinette ended her aria with a bow, and the theatre erupted with a thunderous round of applause.  

Jason watched from his seat in box five, with a self satisfied smile on his face.  From that day forth, he would see to it that all eyes were on her.  

[preciousthingsareprecious]

That Time Tim Totally Terminated Ra's Al Ghuls Entire Empire Part 1

So. I wrote something very silly. The title says it all, except it doesn't because this bad boy spiraled out to being over 10k and deserving of 2 chapters. Anyway, here is the first chapter featuring all the times Ra's kidnapped Tim because he wanted to recruit him.

Summary:

"Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.” Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

AO3 Link

~

Tim wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this situation. No really. One moment he’d been in Gotham, crouched behind an old BMW that had been in the same spot for a month, waiting on Batman’s signal, the next he’d woken up in some lavishly decorated room. Was that silk? Or maybe velvet? He had no idea what was hanging around the bed he was laying in, but Tim really didn’t care.

What he was concerned about was his own personal state. He raised his arms --that alone was a good sign-- and confirmed that his mask was in place. He pushed himself up on the ridiculously plush bed, -which was unreasonably plush by the standards of a kid who'd grown up rich, and then gone to live with a guy who had both more money and even better beds.

The point was, the bed was so soft Tim actually had a bit of trouble sitting up.

When he did manage to right himself, he finished taking stock of his own situation and his surroundings. His Robin uniform was intact aside from his belt, but he saw that set on a trunk that looked at least as old as Bruce, a few feet away. The room was, as he already determined, lavishly decorated.

Tim pushed himself out of the bed and onto a carpet so thick he kind of wanted to pull off his shoes and curl his toes in it, but seeing as he still had no idea where he was, who took him, or why, he figured that was probably out of the question. He did make a mental note to ask Bruce for some better carpet when he got home. As a kind of gift for surviving a very weird kidnapping.

Instead, he moved to walk carefully around the room. He found no obvious traps, no cameras or speakers or microphones that were either hidden or out in the open, and both doors were unlocked.

The first he opened revealed a bathroom. The second he cracked open to peer out of. His eyes locked on that of an honest to goodness ninja standing guard outside the door. The man locked eyes with him and Tim snapped the door shut with a click.

Welp, that answered the who and maybe even the where of Tim’s abduction. Ra’s Al Ghul. He was pretty sure if he gave the ninja ten minutes to go find Mr. al Ghul himself, he’d have the why too.

While he waited, Tim snapped his belt back around his waist, comfortable to have its weight back, even if being in a League stronghold meant all the tricks in his pockets were basically useless on his own. Still, it was nice to feel fully like Robin again.

After that it was a matter of waiting.

Tim paced an actual trench into the thick carpet as he waited. Batman was of course looking for him. That was a given, he just had to wait for the man to find him. Or for Ra’s to send him home? He really wasn’t sure why the Eco-terrorist would have taken him in the first place beyond a really weird obsession with Batman's various sidekicks.

How come all of Bruce’s baddies seemed to have a strange fixation on Robins? It was weird how many went out of their way to kidnap and attempt to recruit him, Dick, and if the stories were to be believed, Jason too.

Just as Tim was starting to turn that particular thought over in his head, the door to his room opened and Ra’s himself strolled in.

“Timothy.” the man drawled.

“Ra’s.” Tim replied, suddenly totally and completely unsure what to do with his hands, voice, feet, and general self. This wasn’t a fight after all.

He settled for crossing his arms and being terribly glad his domino hid his eyes.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Ra’s said.

Tim shrugged, “It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to guess that.”

The man frowned at him, and Tim started to wonder if maybe he should be watching his words a bit. He wasn’t in Gotham with Batman at his back after all. But then again, Ra’s must need something from him right? So a little sass was okay, what was Robin without a smart mouth after all?

“I mean--” Tim started, unable to stop himself now that he was thinking about it, “I can probably start to guess. You didn’t kill me and I’m not in a dungeon so you’ve got to want something from me right? I bet this is some blend of trying to win me over and also hold me above Batman because you--” he paused for a moment trying to remember if Bruce had been on Ra’s’ trail at all lately.

He dropped his arms and clapped, remembering, “You’ve been trying to break into energy and you want Wayne Enterprise to back you and legitimize your business. So you’re holding Tim over Bruce, but you probably want Robin because you and like half of Batman’s rogues have this weird obsession with teen heroes for some reason."

At some point he’d stopped looking at Ra’s and actually started pacing again. When he stopped talking his feet stilled and he looked back up at Ra's and grinned, ""So, am I hot or freezing cold?”

He expected Ra's to looked angry or irritated, instead he looked amused.

“You are quite warm. Though I would contend the assertion that I have a weird obsession with teen heroes. I am only interested in the exceptional, and you Timothy, are exceptional indeed.”

Tim gulped, “I mean--not really? But thanks.”

Ra’s waved him off, “We will speak more later. You are correct, I do intend to use you as a bargaining chip against your guardian--”

“Dad.” Tim interjected.

The man raised an eyebrow but continued, “However you are not a prisoner in the traditional sense. You may wander the compound with one of my men by your side to ensure you do not get into trouble. If all goes well you will be returned to Batman within a reasonable amount of time. Unless, of course, you do decide you would like to stay and learn from me.”

“I don’t really see that happening.” Tim said, “But I'll be sure and let you know if I make a sudden turn towards world domination.”

Again, Tim expected some kind of retaliation, but he was thankfully ignored. Ra’s left him with a warning not to cause undue trouble and soon Tim was alone in the room again.

He spent the next couple days wandering the compound somewhat aimlessly. He had a phone call with Bruce where he promised his dad that he was totally fine if a little bored, and spent the rest of his time trying to avoid Ra’s. The man was kind of relentless in his attempts at winning Tim over to his side and sought him out at meals, when Tim was trying to train a bit at one of the many gyms, and even once while Tim was wandering a rather fantastic garden. Each time, Tim did his best to wiggle out of the man's suggestions and just get back to wiling away the time between then and getting home.

Thankfully, it was all over in four days when Batman came crashing in with Nightwing and Batwoman to rescue him, and soon Tim was home and settling back into normal life.

He’d actually almost forgotten about the whole Ra’s kidnapping him until it happened again. Once had been a surprise, two times was starting to look deliberate.

This one lasted a week with Ra’s claiming it was because he still really wanted that energy deal and he just couldn’t understand why Bruce wasn’t willing to trade that for his ward (son Tim had ground out in irritation).

Tim almost believed him, until he woke one morning to find a pamphlet had been slipped under his door, it was literally a flyer promoting hiring in the League. Tim looked over it and had to laugh out loud. The text was done in a mix of papyrus and other fonts and whoever made it had used clip art. It looked like someone had typed it up in Microsoft word in like half an hour.

He spent the rest of his time there re-designing the flyer, with a ninja hanging over his shoulder as he used one of the League computers. The new one wasn’t the best flyer in the world, but Tim was pretty proud of it, and it was much better than the first draft.

When he was done, he pocketed the original, then pinned a note to the new one that said: Ha! Not until you get better designers.

Batman rescued him again, and Tim pushed the double kidnapping and Ra’s’ weird obsession to the back of his mind until the next time he was with Steph.

They were in the manor watching a Chopped marathon and Tim was telling her about both kidnappings.

“So he’s super into energy? How come he didn’t nab Dick? We all know he’s Bruce’s favorite.” Steph teased, popping a chip into her mouth.

“Setting aside that obvious lie, that’s the thing,” Tim continued, digging out the flyer he’d kept, “It has nothing to do with energy or Dick. I’m pretty sure Ra’s is trying to recruit me.”

He showed her the paper and Steph snorted, spraying chips out as she laughed, “No. Freaking. Way. I have to tell Cass. Let me show her this, please I’m begging you.”

Tim groaned, “Yeah, sure, but don’t you think it’s weird?”

She shrugged, taking the flyer to look it over, “Of course, but the B-man attracts weird like ice cream dropped on the ground attracts ants. Give him six months, and Ra’s will move onto a different way of trying to piss off Batman.”

“I hope so.” Tim said.

The third time Tim woke up in the elaborate room he was getting really sick of the decor and the headache that came with being knocked out and dragged halfway across the world.

“You know.” Tim started, the moment Ra's walked into his room (and it was actually Tim’s room he’d learned from one of the ninja guards), “You could have waited a month this time, to at least pretend this wasn’t all about your super weird plan to try and convince me into letting you adopt me.”

Ra’s opened his mouth to respond, but Tim wasn’t done.

“Which, by the way, I’m taken already. B did the whole adopting thing, so you missed that window. Though, I guess that probably doesn't really matter to you in the grand scheme of things since you keep kidnapping me. You are aware that kidnapping isn’t the best way to convince someone that your way is the right one, right?”

“Also, would it kill you to pick up some --I don’t know-- books on recruitment or something? I don’t understand how you’ve managed to get so many guys on your side it’s--” Tim started, but Ra’s had caught on to Tim’s mood at this point, conceded temporary defeat, and made a hasty retreat.

Tim didn't see him the whole rest of the day, and by the next morning Batman showed up, swinging in for another rescue and all was fine and good and normal for a while.

Until, of course, it wasn’t.

It was the fourth kidnapping that really set Tim off.

He woke up back in that stupid room with it’s stupid decor and those stupid posters ready to burn the place to the ground. But something stopped him, a premonition. Like if he was patient for just a little longer he’d find a good and proper form of revenge to take on Ra’s for his total inability to take a hint.

At some point two ninja came by to take Tim to meet with Ra’s. As they walked Tim couldn’t help but notice the posters literally lining the hallways they walked through.

They were of two wildly different styles, but both struck a thought of familiarity in his mind. One was obviously a play on the classic “I want you in the army” poster. The other ripped off old “pin up” recruitment posters. Both made him laugh, and Tim pulled a couple of each down to save to show the Titans. He had a feeling Bart and Kon would lose their minds over these.

He had just folded them up and shoved them in his back pocket when they reached an office. Inside, Ra’s sat in a chair and motioned Tim to sit in one across from him.

“Thank you for joining me, Timothy.”

Tim sat and shrugged, “Not like I had much of a choice.”

Ra’s waved him off. As he did, a different ninja from either of the ones who’d escorted Tim to the office came in with a tray of tea. He handed Ra’s a cup, then gave one to Tim, and left the set on a table between them.

The whole vibe was kind of awkward and strange. Tim felt very much like he had one time a year ago when he’d realized halfway through a date that things were not going to work out. He hadn’t been able to end the date then and there, and had spent another two hours awkwardly making small talk and trying to avoid promising a second date.

“Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.”

Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

Tim took a sip of his tea in an attempt at avoiding having his mouth drop open in shock. Ra’s sounded like something out of a “Executive success seminar” that was just a veiled multilevel marketing scheme.

“To put it plainly, Timothy, I want you to become my apprentice. I know you and assume you might be hesitant to accept this lifestyle so I’ve prepared for you something of a presentation on what that might entail.”

Tim couldn’t stop a laugh from bursting out of him, but he did manage to turn it into a kind of cough.

“Wait--wait.” he said, almost choking on his tea, “Are you about to show me a powerpoint?”

Ra’s looked a bit put out at that suggestion, almost like he wanted to sigh, “Of course not, it’s more interactive than that.”

Tim held up his free hand, incredulous, “Is this--a job interview Ra’s? I thought you were pitching this to me.”

“No, no. It’s an interactive presentation designed to show you just what you have to gain from joining me.” Ra’s explained, as he did so Tim took another sip of his tea.

He lifted his cup and waved it lightly, “Oh yeah, so I’m just in one of those fairy tales then where you make me do three impossible tasks and at the end I get the happily ever after dip in the lazarus pit?”

“It’s only one trial--”

“So it is a task!” Tim declared, almost standing.

“Timothy.” Ra’s snapped, sounding a bit like Bruce whenever Tim and Steph’s antics pushed him a bit too far.

Tim crossed his legs and leaned back into the chair, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Irritating the man was a bad idea, Tim knew that, but this was just ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be sent on a wild quest that might end up with him dunked in a Lazarus Pit or whatever else Ra’s had in mind that would supposedly prove how great it would be to work for him.

“If you are not going to take this seriously, then there are other ways of showing you why joining me is a good idea that are not nearly as pleasant.” Ra’s growled.

Tim held up his free hand, “I’d rather not find out, give me your pitch or send me off with your best ninja or whatever you were planning.”

He figured playing along would work for now. He could put off giving Ra’s an answer until Bruce came in for a third rescue. When he was home, they were going to have a serious conversation about ninja proofing the manor. Ra’s could not keep kidnapping him like this, they had to have some kind of security measures in place.

“Wonderful. I’m sure after your tour you’ll have a better understanding of what I have to offer you.”

Tim ended up following someone Ra’s called his “best general” around the compound for an hour. The guy showed Tim the training rooms, the medical suite, sparring rings, a variety of ninja’s actually practicing, and at one point they even ended up in the library. The general had been given instructions to pause anywhere Tim wanted him to, and so they lingered in the library for a bit.

He had to admit, Ra’s had a fantastic library.

The general didn’t seem worried about Tim getting lost, or escaping, and waited by the door while he wandered the massive room.

And boy was it huge. It was bigger than the main floor of the cave, with stacks and stacks of books on two floors. Some of the volumes looked ancient, and there were even scrolls shelved on the second floor.

He gingerly pulled one out to examine.

“That is worth more than you could ever imagine.” a sharp, young voice, declared, behind him.

Startled, Tim dropped it back onto the shelf and spun. Before him stood a kid, probably 8 years old, with tousled dark hair, dark skin, and a face that almost echoed some of Bruce’s school photos. It was startling.

“Hi.” Tim said, dumbly, “I know, it’s Ancient Sumarian right?”

“Tt.” the boy crossed his arms, “You are not an idiot then.”

Tim shook his head, “Nah, apparently I’m smart enough to be selected for recruitment.”

The kid nodded, “So you are Grandfather’s young detective. He speaks highly of you.”

Grandfather? Tim’s brain spun. This kid was Ra’s al Ghul’s grandkid? He ran the numbers, the kid’s mom was either Talia or Nyssa. If he had to put money on it, Tim figured the boy before him looked more like Talia than her sister. And his other features--like Bruce’s?

No.

No.

No. Freaking. Way.

“That is hardly language to use here.” The boy said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Tim hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but apparently his surprise had been so great he had. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I just never expected Ra’s to have a grandkid.”

“It is not surprising to me, I am his heir. Born to inherit the League and rule the world one day.”

Okay, that was a lot to unpack. Just a totally wild amount, but Tim wasn’t super focused on the world domination thing just yet (maybe later when he had a chance to process all of--well, all of it), “Sorry to keep pressing but, doesn’t having an heir kind of--I don’t know, put his whole Eternal Ruler of the League thing in jeopardy?”

“Tt. It is not my place to question my Grandfather’s plans. I simply know what I have been told, that I will inherit the League one day in his stead.”

“Well,” Tim rocked back on his heels casually and grinned, “That might be a long loooong time.”

The kid’s brows furrowed as if he had not really considered that idea before. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to decide against it, dropping his arms to his sides to shrug, “If that is his wish then so be it.”

“True.” Tim said, not really knowing what to say. Instead he settled on changing the subject, “You know, if your grandfather gets his way I’ll be spending more time here, so I guess introductions are in order. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne, but most people just call me Tim.”

He held his hand out to the kid, smiling at him. If he really was Bruce’s then they’d be getting to know each other for sure. Just not here. Tim had zero intentions on letting Bruce’s child stay with the League. Did B he even know he had a kid? Tim thought he’d better figure that out first before kidnapping his little brother.

Little brother. Just that idea made something flutter in Tim’s chest. He’d always wanted a little brother.

The boy scowled at his hand, and did not take it, “You may be correct, even if I do not see what Grandfather seems to. I am Damian al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s Head.”

Tim bit back a grin at just how serious this kid was. He sounded like a little prince, all imperious and haughty. Damian, even his name fit him. He wondered how Damian would do around Dick? Or Stephanie. They’d figure out how to bring a smile out of him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Damian.” Tim said, “I know we’ve really only just met, but I’m sure you’ll see what Ra’s does in time.”

Damian looked him over again, then gave a sharp nod, “I am interested in seeing what you have to offer.”

“Damian, I found it, where’d you go?” A voice sounded from deeper within the stacks.

Tim started at the sound of the voice. He knew it. Knew it from nights spent chasing shadows, from recording’s Bruce had watched a hundred times when he didn’t think Tim was watching. From Tim’s own desire to know and learn more about his predecessor. It was Jason Todd’s voice.

But that couldn’t be. Jason was dead.

“I am coming.” Damian returned, his tone more childlike than Tim had heard in their whole conversation. He turned back to Tim, “Do not ruin that scroll, I will see you later.”

Then he spun on his heel and walked away.

Tim stepped forward, reaching out for the kid, “Wai--”

“Master Tim, we really must be going.” Tim’s guide was back, stepping into his view as if from nowhere, and stopping Tim’s chase as short as it had been.

“Can we wait just one more second?” he asked, “I wanted to ask Damian something else.”

The man’s mouth turned down in a frown, “I do not have clearance to let you speak with Master Damian. Come, we have more to see.”

Frustration bubbled up in Tim, but unless he wanted to start a fight he wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to Damian right then. The kid had promised to see him later, so maybe he’d seek Tim out. If not, Tim would find a way.

As he followed the man out of the library, he kept searching the stacks of books for a sign of the others. It wasn’t until they’d left the room that Tim caught sight of Damian again, his small form waving animated at a taller, broader one. One that, while older, was unmistakably Jason.

Before Tim could say screw everything, the two turned around a corner, and someone else was clearing their throat. His guide seemed eager to move on, and so they did.

Tim tuned out most of the rest of the tour, and eventually found himself back in the office from before, once again seated across from Ra’s.

“Timothy, I hear you have met my grandson on your tour.” Ra’s started.

“I did.” Tim said, a bit hesitant to go into detail, his guide had seemed like talking to Damian was a pretty serious thing, and suddenly Tim was afraid he’d gotten the kid in trouble.

Ra’s smiled, “He is magnificent is he not? Already he is a skilled warrior, and well trained in his studies.”

“He said he was your heir?” Tim ventured.

The man waved a hand dismissively, “Of course he is, he is my grandson, but that does not mean he will inherit. The boy is valuable to me, for many reasons. He is an excellent tool to wield against my enemies already, and will only become more so as he grows.”

Anger bubbled up in Tim. There was something in Ra’s’ tone that made Tim sick, to call a kid a tool. To plan to just use him his whole life?

“And what, do you want to do that with me too? You said you wanted me to be your apprentice, but if your Heir is just a tool then--”

“No, as I said I want you to take over a branch of the League. You have talents and skills Damian will not. The boy is--” Ra’s shrugged, “Let us call him a vessel. A shell for me to wield in one way or another.”

Well, that just made Tim even more angry. Damian was his grandkid. What Tim wouldn't have given to still have his grandparents, and for Ra’s to just--If Tim wasn’t already dead set on getting Damian home, he would be after this conversation.

“You know what, Ra’s. Let me think on it a while. I’ll get back to you on my answer. I kind of want to see Damian in action a bit, learn what this training looks like in someone closer to my age.”

The man considered this for a moment before nodding, “I will let you watch his sparring session tomorrow. For now, I think we’re done. Have a good evening, Timothy.”

Tim nodded, and left. His mind was racing, he wanted another look at Jason. Wanted to tell Damian about his dad. Wanted to make sure both his brothers were okay.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he missed the black and blue clad arm that reached out from behind a curtain and yanked him back. Nightwing put a hand over Tim’s mouth to quiet him, and then pulled him out the window the curtain had been hiding. They dropped, into nothing--except it was solid?

Tim found himself inside the invisible jet. Inside, and flying away from his newly discovered siblings before he could even argue they needed to be rescued too.

One flight with Wonder Woman and Nightwing later, and Tim was home again, being told in stern tones by both Batman and Nightwing that he really needed to stop allowing himself to be kidnapped by ninjas (like he didn’t know that).

Then he was in his room, in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirring. He had learned two things on this trip. Two impossible things. Two things he was going to leverage as soon as he could.

It was late, and he should be sleeping, but instead he texted Steph and Cass in their little group chat.

Tim: Want to cause some chaos?

Immediately he received a response:

Steph: Always

Cass: Who are we going after?

Tim smiled, his fingers dancing over his phone:

Tim: Ra’s.

Cass: Time to teach him a lesson?

Steph: I've been waiting for this, I’ll get the kerosene

Tim: There’s more.

Cass: Tell.

The light flashed on out in the hallway, Tim could see it flicker to life under his door.

Tim: Tomorrow, lunch at that place with the sweet potato fries. Come ready to plan a kidnapping or two.

The next day Tim found both Steph and Cass waiting eagerly for him at the restaurant, a heaping plate of sweet potato fries between them.

“Spill, Bird Brain.” Stephanie said, as he sat down, pushing some fries towards him, “I want to hear everything about this crusade against Ra’s.”

Tim rolled his eyes, and snagged a fry, dipping it in one of the sauces they’d gotten to accompany it.

“As you’ve probably already guessed, I had another visit to the League compound yesterday.” Tim started, “It was more of a day trip this time, but Ra’s did his very best to sell me on signing up.”

“More posters?” Cass guessed, then shook her head seeing Tim’s expression, “What did he do?”

Tim snagged another fry, “Yes more posters, but more than that he gave me a speech right out of a How to Recruit for Dummies book, then sent me on a tour of the building.”

Steph snorted, “Please tell me you recorded it.”

“I did not, but you will never believe what I found on my tour, or to be precise who.”

Both girls paused their snacking, waiting on him to continue.

Tim dropped the first bomb, “Jason Todd, alive and breathing.”

“What, no way.” Steph said, “How’d he even get there? I thought He was buried here?”

He shrugged, “I don’t have any of the details, but they’ve got a Lazarus pit, and Ra’s is weirdly obsessed with recruiting Robin’s, so I’d say his resurrection tracks.”

“Who else was there?” Cass asked, brow furrowed.

Now this he knew neither of them would be expecting. Tim hadn’t expected it. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson, Damian.” Tim said, watched both girls look even more confused, then added, “The son of Bruce and Talia. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s their kid.”

The fry Stephanie was holding dropped out of her hand.

Tim watched Cass processing the information, saw her realization that there was another child being raised in the League, then saw the determination cross her face at her own personal decision.

“We are taking them both, correct?” Cass asked.

“We’re taking them both, and burning the place down.” Tim confirmed, “That should properly pay him back for all the time’s he’s kidnapped me this year.”

Steph’s lips turned up into a sharp grin, “The law of equivalent exchange.”

Tim laughed, “You’ve been watching too much tv.”

“It’s prepped me for this very moment.” she shot back, voice falsely grave.

“Batman prepared you for this very moment.” Cass elbowed her.

“No.” Tim said, “I’m going to prep you. And then we’re going to put everything in action.”

They talked, and planned, and debated the pros and cons of letting Tim get nabbed again over just going himself, and eventually after many many sweet potato fries and sodas they were ready.

It was to be infiltration first, fire and kerosene second. Obviously the place was going to go up, but only after they set the stage for rebellion and convinced Damian and Jason to go home with them. Tim didn’t think it’d be a hard sell for Jason, but the kid was another matter altogether. If Tim couldn’t convince him to come along, they may actually end up having to kidnap Damian.

A key to the plan was that only Tim, Steph, and Cass were in on it. There was no way Bruce was giving the green light for such a thing. Besides, Tim wanted to see his face when they presented him with not one, but two, rescued sons from the League.

Over the next week Tim made himself the most kidnappable he’d ever been. He wandered outside, kept to himself, and tried to look as wide eyed as possible. He lingered in parking lots, and took shortcuts down empty alleyways. Basically, he did everything he could to signal he was alone and vulnerable besides hanging a sign around his neck that said “Take me to your (ninja) leader”.

At one point he even stopped, dead center in the middle of an alley and declared, “Wow this sure is a dangerous place to be! I hope I don’t get attacked and kidnapped by ninjas!”

The only response he got that time was from an older woman who stopped at the edge of the alley and very seriously called out, “Careful, young man. Don’t you know there are killer clowns out? You best be on your way before you get hurt.”

Then, at long last, Tim caught sight of one of the League members ducking behind a shadow. He paused his walk, and leaned over as if fascinated by something on the sidewalk in front of him. By the time he’d stood, the ninja was in front of him.

Tim held up his hands in surrender, doing his best not to actually look excited. Then, he was successfully kidnapped for the fifth --and if Tim’s plan worked successfully-- final time.

[sturchling]

Salt-Fic September Day 8: Stolen

Marinette was incredibly excited. She had heard about a design contest being held in Gotham. It was being sponsored by the Waynes, who told her about it since they were so close. Marinette had met the Waynes when her family went on a trip to Gotham to visit an old family friend, Alfred. Damian and Marinette became quite close on the trip and they soon began a long-distance relationship.

 ---------------------

When the Wayne family decided to sponsor the design contest, Damian told Marinette all about it. “We will obviously not be judging the contest because of the conflict of interest. We are just sponsoring the reward, a full expense trip to Gotham.” Marinette was ready to start designing right then.

  ---------------------

She decided to create an outfit based off of Robin. She spent day and night working on the design in her sketchbook. She hardly ever put her sketchbook down for the next several weeks. This didn’t escape Lila’s notice. Lila was curious what Marinette was so obsessed over. Then she saw the information for the design contest in Gotham. She was sure that was what Marinette was obsessing over. In one of the rare moments that Marinette left her sketchbook, Lila took a look at her sketch that she had been working on. When she saw the Robin inspired look in the book, she knew the design was for the Gotham contest.

  ---------------------

Lila hated to say it, but the design was really good. Too good for Marinette. Lila waited for a better moment to try and take the sketch. The moment came that Saturday. Marinette was in the park working on her design when an akuma appeared. Lila wasn’t sure where Marinette rushed off to in such a hurry, but she wouldn’t question it. Marinette had left her sketchbook on the bench and raced away when the akuma alert sounded. Lila took the opportunity and grabbed the book. It was the perfect crime, cause the park was now empty and Marinette had never even seen her. It would be hard for Marinette to prove that Lila had stole the design.

  ---------------------

Lila’s plan now was simple. She would enter the contest using this design and most likely win with a design this good. Then when she went to Gotham, she would find Damian Wayne and get him to fall in love with her. Then Lila would have the fame and fortune that she always dreamed about. For once that useless Marinette had done something good for Lila. Lila was over the moon, excited for the bright future in front of her. Meanwhile Marinette was freaking out.

  ---------------------

Marinette was in a panic. She had no idea where her sketchbook had gone. Not only was her contest entry in there, but she had several commission sketches in there too. When Damian was video called her that night to chat, he saw Marinette tearing her room apart in a complete panic. It took a minute to get her attention, but when he did, Marinette told him everything. “I just can’t believe it. I don’t even have enough time to redraw the sketch and work on the commission assignments. I have to focus on the commission requests. I hate that I won’t be able to enter the contest.” Damian wished that Marinette would be able to enter the contest, but he knew she was right. She didn’t have time to completely redo the sketch.

  ---------------------

Lila felt comfortable with her chances of winning. She had just submitted her entry and was now waiting for news. A few weeks later, she received word that she had won the contest. She was ecstatic. She started planning for her trip, but kept it quiet to keep Marinette from getting suspicious. Little did Lila know; everything was about to come crumbling down around her.

---------------------

Bruce was having a long day. Everything was monotonous and boring. He decided to at least look at something interesting and see the design that won the contest. He wished Marinette had been able to enter, but Damian had told him what had happened. Just as he pulled out the winning sketch, Damian and Jason walked into his office. Jason saw the sketch in hand, “Oh, is that the winning design?” Bruce nods his head and the two boys come look at the design too. What they saw quickly infuriated them all.

  ---------------------

The design seemed normal, and based off of Robin’s costume. But the more they looked at it, the more familiar the style seemed. They could have sworn that this was made by Marinette. Then they saw the proof. In the collar of the design was the golden embroidery that Marinette always used to sign her work. Rage coursed through all three of the men when they realized this person had stolen Marinette’s design and tried to pass it off as their own. Damian saw that this sketch was submitted by Lila Rossi, and recognized that as the name of the girl who had been tormenting Marinette for months. At first, they were just going to take away the prize from this Lila Rossi, but then they realized that they could also get some vengeance for Marinette. With that in mind, the group got to work planning.

  ---------------------

A few days later, Lila was in class regaling the class with a new story when everything went wrong. The classroom door opened right before lunch and in walked three men. Everyone immediately recognized them as part of the Wayne family, Bruce Wayne and two of his sons, Jason and Damian. At first Lila was confused, and wondered if this was part of the contest prize. If it was, then she was excited. But it was quickly realized that was not the case.

  ---------------------

Bruce asked, “Which of you is Lila Rossi?” Lila stood up and shyly said, “I’m Lila Rossi.” Lila expected that they would congratulate her for her win. But instead she heard, “We have come to tell you that your prize has been taken from you. It has come to our attention that you used a stolen design as your entry. As such, your prize has been revoked and given to the second-place design. You have also been banned from all future events that my family may sponsor.” The class was in shock at what was just said. Including Marinette. She had no idea what had happened or that the family was coming. She quickly figured out what happened, and that Lila must have been the one who stole her sketchbook.

  ---------------------

Alya stood up, ready to defend her friend from what she thought were baseless accusations. “Why would you say that. Lila would never cheat. What proof do you have?” Bruce turned to face the young journalist. “Quite simply, we saw a design element that we are familiar with. The design was made by Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The embroidery that Marinette puts in every design to sign her work was in the collar of the design.” Bruce pulled out the design and showed the embroidery to the class. Alya was in a hard spot. She didn’t want to believe that Lila was a liar, but the proof was staring her in the face. Alya knew that Marinette did use that embroidery, and Lila’s name was clearly listed as the person who submitted the design.

  ---------------------

Lila tried to fix things, but it didn’t work. The class quickly realized that Lila had lied about everything. Lila became the class outcast and the class made amends with Marinette. Lila ended up transferring away, to try and find a new place where she could gain control of a class again. Marinette never heard from her again. Damian and Marinette also became closer as time went by. While Marinette was upset that she hadn’t been able to enter the contest, she was glad things happened the way they did. While it had been rough, and Marinette had been upset, all of that had caused Lila’s downfall and Marinette couldn’t be happier with the outcome.

Hope you guys liked it! @maribat-central-official

[another-cancer]

Day 4, July 8th Game On

As it hit zero he repeated something Dick said before every match, “Game on.”

///

Video games were taken very seriously in the manor. Marinette typically kicked everyone's ass while Tim tried as hard as possible to take her down. Jason laughed while attempting to keep up with the two. Dick kept everyone in check. And Damian. Well, Damian sat there openly judging anyone.

“I don’t get why you all chose to participate in such a childish action,” Damian said one evening.

He had been fiddling with a book he had no interest in reading while watching his family be obnoxiously competitive over a simple fighter game. At least, that is what he considered it. All he knew about it was, it was Marinette’s favorite game. And with her death date fastly approaching she took comfort in playing the game.

“It’s not childish,” Tim insisted.

“It’s a waste of time,” Damian antagonized.

“You pretending to read that book is a waste of time,” Jason added to the conversation.

Damian pouted at the accusation of pretending to read, even if it was true. But for Damian to admit to the truth he’d also be admitting to Jason being correct. And what fun would admitting to the truth be when he was bored. Perhaps it was a bad habit, but Damian loved to instigate when bored.

“I am simply pointing out that all the time you spend playing video games could be put towards something useful. Perhaps you could read a book or two. It may do you some good,” Damian suggested.

“I have read a book or two. I actually have a book in my jacket that I am actually in the process of reading, which is more than you can say. You can even check,” Jason said, focusing more on the game.

Damian moved to reach for Jason’s jacket. And to his surprise he did find a book, it was actually classically literature with a bookmark more than halfway through.

“Well looks like you do have some taste, Todd,” Damian scuffed.

Jason was too busy getting his ass kicked by an unusually quiet DIck who had been too focused on the game to contribute to the conversation. When the screen changed to a ‘Player 1 wins’ Dick darted up and began his victory dance.

Eventually calming down he turned to Damian and said, “You should try playing Damian, maybe then you’ll understand.”

“What is there to understand? All you do is smash the buttons,” Damian smirked.

Marinette gasped, “There is more than just button mashing to UMS! Sure it is DIck and Jason’s preferred way of playing but it is so much more. It is a culture, it is a lifestyle and you just disrespected one of the best games ever made that has built a steady franchise for itself.”

“Wow Pixie, you should be the company's spokesperson,” Jason joked.

“Please you are clearly being dramatic,” Damian shot back.

“Nope she is definitely right,” Tim agreed.

“Why don’t you just give it a try?” Dick suggested.

“I would beat all of you imbeciles easily, why should I even waste my time?” Damian taunted.

Jason laughed, “You think you can beat all of us? Then why not just play?”

Jason was baiting him. He wanted him to agree to play. More specifically he wanted Damian to agree to play Marinette. Marinette the best UMS player any of the brothers had ever met. She had played at tournaments for her school with a fellow classmate. She played with her parents when they were alive. UMS was a staple of the girl's life. And Damian was so confident.

“I told you I won’t play because it would be useless to me. Do you even listen? The game is a clear waste of time,” Damina said.

“It sounds like you’re afraid to lose,” Marinette chimed in, catching on with Jason’s plan with a single glance.

“I am not afraid to lose,” Damina denied.

“Then why not play,” Jason encouraged.

“Fine, I challenge the best player,” Damian declared.

Tim’s eyes lit up catching on to what Jason had done. Dick looked worried, but it conflicted with his need to encourage Damian to participate in regular kid activities. The later half quickly ended up winning the internal argument.

He told Damian, “Marinette is the best player, you can play her.”

Marinette set herself up in her typical sitting position. While Damian tried to find a comfortable one after being handed a controller. Marinette had quickly set up the game and they chose their fighters. Damian had a smirk on his face as the game counted down.

As it hit zero he repeated something Dick said before every match, “Game on.”

This caused Jason and Marinette to burst out laughing. However, this had no effect on Marinette’s gaming. She was still as flawless as ever while she snorted and giggled loudly. She beat Damian in under a minute. The pre-team became frustrated with the loss and stopped out of the room muttering something about cheating on the way out. Marinette dropped the controller and continued to laugh with Jason even louder.

Tim shrugged at the sight and left the room to continue with his day. And Dick stuck around to clean up as Jason and Marinette attempted to calm down. When the two eventually did, they left the Manor to return to their cross-town apartment where they continued to repeat ‘game on’ in their best Damian impressions which led to more giggles.

Three days later in the middle of the night, Tim found himself in the living room staring at an exhausted Damian playing single-player UMS.

Masterlist AO3

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@jasonette-july-event

[good-rwbyaus]

First, love this blog, and I love Batfamily Emerald a lot more than I thought I would, second what dose Emerald's think with some other batman characters, like Kate Kane, Duke Thomas, Catwomen, Harely Quinn, Taila Al Ghul (The one who's like The batman animated show Taila, not the one who doesn't ask for cosent, yes I'm bitter at the writers), and Alfread? (Sorry if this was worded bad or something)

Well thank you very much for the compliment! I have a lot of fun working on it, and I like these ideas for further expansion on the mythos. Unfortunately my knowledge on some of these characters is a touch limited so you may not get quite the characterizations you expected...

Batwoman: Seeing as the world of Remnant seems to show no real signs of homophobia, let's take a slight liberty and say the Waynes and Kanes have some bat Faunus heritage on Martha's side of the family. (Yes, that means I'm agreeing with the JL/RWBY comic) Kate was kicked out of the Atlas military when her traits were outed, but she holds no shame in who she is. We'll get into Emerald's icons in her old life, but a badass like Batwoman is certainly someone she aspires to be like as a part of the Batfamily. She may be Bruce's kid now, but Kate is the one to give her pointers on how to play the rich girl act for hoity toity social events. Emerald once offered to try and depict Kate's deceased sister with her semblance, to give Kate a chance to say goodbye and get some closure, but Kate said she's "not ready to dive down that rabbit hole just yet..." Likewise, Kate offered to put Em in touch with a good wig maker for her cowl, but Em thought it might look tacky on her.

Signal: Emerald would definitely feel some amount of relief seeing another hero of color is part of the Batfamily, and she and Duke would bond over their street-wise lifestyles before meeting Bruce. Much like Barbara's story of the world's worst knock knock joke, hearing what happened to Duke's parents made Em all the more terrified of having to ever face the Joker. She has teased him for his powers, which in this world may as well just be his Semblance, basically being "a psychic lightbulb", but over time she's learned just impressive his powers really are.

Catwoman: If she had stayed a thief on the streets, Selina would have been her idol and role model. As a Batgirl, Emerald instead delights in every chance she gets to cross paths with the feline felon who feels like she could be the mom she never had. She sees the way Selina flirts with Batman, and she is absolutely here for it. She can also tell Bruce likes Selina too, and will not hesitate to rib him about it and say they should get together. He gives the same standard response about the mission coming before relationships, and the trust required being beyond what he can allow, but she still ships it. The two ladies have interacted solo as well, and get along pretty well, comparing weapons and pickpocketing feats. When Selina finds out what kind of Semblance Em has she is all the more curious, but Em has to stick to her principles and say the thieving days are behind her. She's only half honest about that, but it would feel like a betrayal of Bruce's trust to take Catwoman up on a partnership.

Harley: Harley definitely has wine aunt energy. She doesn't encounter Emerald much, but when she does her personality makes it like hanging out with another teenager. She brings gifts or surprises sometimes, but usually it's something unusual or useless she swiped at random. Emerald was initially really worried when she heard this was the Joker's girlfriend, but it's a great relief to hear that they're "Splitsville, sweetie~" Harley encourages Batman for bringing more girl power onto his team, and compliments her on her outfit. Hearing first hand experiences of what a dumb bastard clown Joker is definitely helps soothe Em's fears of him. Harleen has at one point tried to psychoanalyze this new bat-brat, and gotten pretty damn close, even pointing out some insecurities and problems Em didn't even realize she had.

Talia al Ghul: Emerald first heard her name in passing, in the context of being Damian's mother. Digging deeper into that story leaves her with a whole heap of questions. The idea of Bruce getting so caught up in a relationship with a woman, short lived as the honeymoon phase may have been, that he sired a child was already a hard pill to swallow. The fact that the woman was the next in line for leadership of an ancient assassin group was even crazier. Still, she could see why Bats had taken a liking to her, and where Damian got some of his quirks. Em doesn't fully trust her, especially with Damian himself a bit wary of his mother's behaviors, but she at least gets a kick out of her mysterious attitude.

Alfred: It took Em a while to get used to having someone around who would attend on her and take care of her in such a way. His wry wit did a lot to help her warm up to him, as did his uncanny ability to know when she needed a nice drink or a warm meal. She likes coming to him to ask about Bruce's childhood, and any funny stories he might have about the Robins, but it is from him she also learns the tragedy of the Waynes. the Graysons, and those dark days after the loss of Jason. Em tries not to leave her bedroom too much of a mess in order to make Alfred's work that much easier, but he assures her he will not mind the collateral of her living her life at ease. Because he has known Wayne Manor and its inhabitants for so long, he's another person Em can never fool with her illusions.

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 22nd of May 2021

This is speculation only

Cards drawn 22nd May 2021

Question: How is HM the Queen?

Interpretation. She is burdened, upset and stressed.

Card One: The Ten of Wands. This is a card of being burdened. Her Majesty feels burdened by something, or somethings. She is so tired. I can feel her fatigue through the cards. She is grieving, and the grief is making her tired, and there is something else that she is carrying that is just taking the heart out of her.

The card shows Jason sitting in a shelter made from timbers taken from his ship, the Argo. The shelter is burning down around him. The Argo is a wreck in the background. All his past efforts have come to this, sitting in a shelter made from the planks of his past efforts as it burn down around him. The result of those efforts, the gold fleece, lies discarded on the ground beside him. This is how HM the Queen feels. She has put a lot of time and effort into something, and now it is burning down around her. She feels that her efforts have been for nothing. Whatever the result of those efforts was, it has been discarded and is currently useless (like the golden fleece on the ground). I suspect this is related to Harry and Meghan, but I would have to do another spread to be sure.

Card Two: The Eight of Wands. This is a card of things moving quickly. It shows the ship the Argo moving quickly through the waters, on it s way home, with a pair of dolphins playing alongside it. Wands can be the suit of PR, but here I feel this card is talking about actual events. These events are moving quickly. They are related to the event from the card before, the something that makes Her Majesty feel burdened and as if all her efforts have been in vain, and they are rushing along so quickly that Her majesty feels overwhelmed by it all.

Card Three: The Eight of Swords. This is a card of being stressed and feeling trapped by your thoughts. The card shows Orestes, caught in a semicircle of swords between the Furies and the god Apollo. Here Orestes is HM the Queen. The Furies are not tormenting thoughts, as they usually are, but rather her current grief. The figure of Apollo is her duty as Queen. Her Majesty is performing her duties as Queen, and probably finding some enjoyment in them, but at the same time she is mourning and the more duties she performs, the less time she has to grieve and heal. She is also feeling stress from the swift movement of events shown by the card beforehand (the Eight of Wands). Those events are related to something that feels like a burden to her, and they are causing her a lot of stress on top of her strong grief and her desire to carry on with her duties for the people of Great Britain.

The way out is to walk backwards out of the circle of swords - to take a step back and let other people hold the fort while she gives herself the time to grieve. I don't know if Her Majesty is able to do this, or if her sense of duty will keep her working even though it would be better for her to take a break.

Underlying Energy: The Three of Wands. This is a card of initial triumph, of starting something and having a favourable response. For me, it is my regency card, with the transfer of power shown by the picture on the card, where King Pelias kneels and offers his crown to his nephew Jason. To me this says that Her Majesty is considering turning over power to her son. It may not be in all areas of her life, and it may not be announced to the public, but she is considering sharing at least some of her duties and responsibilities with her son, especially in the area of dealing with whatever 'something' it is that is making her feel burdened and stressing her by the quick flow of events.

Conclusion. Her Majesty is tired and grieving. Something feels like a burden to her, as if all the effort she has put into this thing has been wasted (I suspect Harry and Meghan, but I would have to pull cards to confirm). Events are moving swiftly, and this is causing her some stress. She is caught between doing her duty as Queen and retiring and letting someone else deal with the problem. The underlying energy shows that she will most likely be sensible and turn this problem/burden/'something' over to her son, so he can deal with it for her, as it is too much for her in her current state of grief.

Minor Arcana Cards: All the cards in the spread are minor arcana cards, so this is likely to be something that is done in private and the public never hears about beyond rumours and speculation.

Major Suit: Three out of four cards are wands, so this is something to do with the suit of Wands - creative energy, PR, energy in general, enthusiasm, zest for life, bold action, leadership and so on.

[dashingdcboys]

The batboys, on ‘take your kid to work day’ at wayne enterprises back when they were robins (HEADCANONS)

dick - he was dressed in these neat, formal, stiff suits but still managed to perform cartwheels down the halls of the office blocks

- bruce would constantly fix the boy's hair because of this, just lick his thumb and press down strands of hair that came out of place

- the other employees found this paternal side of bruce shocking and adorable, considering how young and serious bruce was back then

- he'd constantly spin around in the office chairs, and perform handstands during a conference meetings

- this distracted the guy giving the presentation but bruce just told him to ignore him ( which was basically impossible )

- he'd go around talking to all the employees about useless things, like videogames and cartoons and soccer games and his favourite flavour of chips

- he was just a giant distraction but too ADORABLE to be mad at, the employees loved him ( still do )

- when he got bored he’d finally head over to bruce’s office and try understand what he’s doing on his computer, while sitting on his lap ( and probably falling asleep, causing bruce to not move an inch while he worked )

jason - after richard, the employees were most probably extremely excited when bruce announced he had taken in another kid

- jay was probably grumpy though, from being woken up early and still being in pain from the previous night of patrol

- he hated wearing a suit, and took off the tie and undid the first few buttons of his shirt at the first chance he got, looking like an employee that just got fired and had nothing else to lose

- he probably snuck out of the conference meeting to go to a fire escape for a smoke ( bc the 70s were a messed up time )

- there he met another employee and asked for a cigarette, and obvs the guy didn't want to encourage the kid smoking but panicked, bc he's the boss's son

- bruce intervened and dragged jay back inside by his ear ( #batdad )

- jay most probably hid some snacks from the break room in his pockets, namely snacks alfred didn't allow him to have in the manor 

- most employees saw him as a troublesome yet sweet kid, but jay would often pay more attention to the lower-class employees, like the window cleaners, handy-men, janitors, secretaries etc. bc he knew what it was like to have a poor income, and he probably felt safe around people more within his previous class in such a daunting, big, busy place worth billions

- he probably went to take a nap in bruce’s office afterwards

tim - tim was used to touring these giant companies bc his parents had owned a business at that time, so walking through those halls was all natural to him ( he probably had been there before too, a couple of times )

- the formal clothes, polite introductions, conferences, office chatter were like second nature to him

- though he was still awkward as a boy, so when he shyly showed his face from behind the Big Boss(TM) bruce wayne, he stole the hearts of all the employees the second they layed eyes on him

- in the conference though, he'd overcome that shyness and give constructive criticism

- in fact, even going around the offices, the employees appreciated his presence since he'd give them advice and learn from them in turn 

- he was so smart that one of the older employees, who had been around since richard was robin, joked he'd own W.E. someday ( foreshadowing )

- and while bruce worked, he'd play minecraft on one of the office computers to pass the time, or simply watch bruce work by eagerly dragging a chair beside him

dami - the second he walked in wearing a smaller version of bruce's suit, had his hair style, facial expression and WALK exactly like bruce, everyone knew he was their boss's biological son

- he was a brat, and already treated the company like it was his, ordering everyone about, and bruce, on his fourth son, was too tired to tell him to stop at this point

- in a conference meeting he'd mercilessly critisize the presenter for making mistakes, which made the poor guy more nervous and mess up more

- at some point, damian had enough and just took over the presentation flawlessly, with no previous preparation

- bruce apologized to the guy but was secretly impressed

- the female employees still found damian adorable, despite the attitude, smothered him with anything he needed, constantly making sure the boy was comfortable

- dami seemed unimpressed but secretly loved the attention

- at the end of the day, he ended up memorizing everyones' names to 'know who to fire', how he put it, but really, it was so that he would know the people he'll be working with in the future uvu

- when in his father’s office, he stayed studying the files and shared his constructive criticism with bruce, who then directed him to lucius. least to say, lucius was not surprised by the boy’s genius, but also gave him some wise life advice

[lavenderclearwater]

Goodnight

He was starting to regret accepting Percy’s and Annabeth’s invitation to join them at the campfire with the rest of the seven. In fact, he had planned on not accepting it, but Will was there when they asked and said they would be there. Now it was edging into 2:00 a.m and everyone was still there, though most were half asleep by now. Will was one of those people and was currently leaning against him, which would have been fine if wasn’t harboring the biggest crush on the guy.  He was thankful that it was dark, otherwise, one of his remaining conscious friends probably would have called him out or teased him by now.

It was a small miracle that Will could sleep with his heart beating so hard and fast. He was relieved when Jason got up and left with Piper, now he was free to go without looking suspicious. Will was easy to wake up after promising he could go right back to sleep once they got back to his cabin, they agreed to have a sleepover before the visit to the campfire. Well, he also told him that if he didn’t then he was going to raise a skeleton to carry him there because he was too big for him to do it himself.

That proved to be false after Will dropped only a little over halfway there and he was forced to carry him, too exhausted to bother raising a skeleton despite his earlier claim. He made a mental note to berate him later for taking too many shifts at the infirmary. They made it to the cabin, holding onto Will who was wrapped around him like a Kola. Right before he could set the sleeping son of Apollo down on the opposite bed (aka Hazel’s), his grip tightened and he tried to bury his face deeper into his shoulder.

The second attempt did not go much better, this time grabbing handfuls of his shirt in order to prevent being put down. If it wasn’t so awkward, he might have laughed at the fact how he was refusing to be put down even in his sleep. He ended up just dropping him on the bed, using his own weight against him. Now that was taken care of, he had to put himself to bed. That took longer than expected as he couldn’t help but gaze upon his friend's beauty. Will was more relaxed, which was unusual for him to see because of his tendency to worry about people twenty-four/seven.

It was useless to fight the urge to get closer, even more so to touch him. He brushed his curly blonde hair a little, careful not to stir him from his deep sleep. Oh, how he wished that he had the courage to admit his feelings for him. Maybe...one day. Until then, he decided to take his one chance to show his affections without fear of rejection. He kissed him on the forehead (he wasn’t a complete creep), soft enough that he probably didn’t even feel it.

“Goodnight, Will.”

He plopped himself down on his bed and fell asleep watching over him. Will would tell him a couple of years later when they had started dating, that he had been awake the entire time and said goodnight before he fell asleep.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18588757/chapters/44281540

[multifandomgirl-us]

First - Jason Todd

AU where you have a clock counting your time back till you die.

It made no sense. He was supposed to have more time. His clock said he had another 60 years or so. How is that to make sense when you are burying him at this moment? When the quiet sobs and cries of all who knew him can be heard in your surroundings. His death made no sense to you at all. It gave you no time to prepare like others had. At least everyone else that had passed away in your life followed their clocks, but not Jason. He always did have to be the first to do things you guessed. The first to be your friend, the first to try and steal Batman’s tires, the first person to take care of you, the first boy you loved, the first male you knew you could trust, and now the first person known to the modern world to defy their clock. 

As his casket was slowly lowered into the ground, your sobs grew stronger and Bruce’s grip on your shoulder tightened. His own way of showing his grief you guessed. As dirt was added on Jason’s grave, you watched with your blurry eyesight. A blur… that was a great way to describe the events that occurred the rest of the day. A day filled with almost as much sorrow as the day you found out Jason had passed. 

Jason wasn’t supposed to be out at this time. He was supposed to be helping you train. A sort of punishment instilled upon him by Bruce for disobeying Bruce’s orders. But as you went down to the cave to meet him to train, he was leaving on his bike. Heading to god knows where and only a note left for you to read. 

‘Left to help Bruce, we’ll train later’

You were hoping Jason wouldn’t lie to you but you had a feeling that he wasn’t telling the truth. So, you hopped onto the comms and paged over to Bruce to ask him.

“Did you call Jason out to patrol with you? I thought he was grounded,” you questioned.

“He is grounded! Go get Alfred, and tell him to scan for Jason’s location,” Bruce answered, confirming your suspicions.

“On it Bruce!”

You rushed up and into the kitchen, where you thought you would find Alfred but no luck. Your little legs could not go very fast but you used your top speed in order to find the self-proclaimed butler. As your legs carried you passed Jason’s room, you stopped, excited and relieved that you had finally found Alfred.

“Alfred! Bruce needs you to scan for Jason’s location, Jason snuck out!” The man followed you down to the cave and immediately went to look for your best friend. As soon as Jason’s location was pinged, he sent the coordinates to Bruce. You were just hoping that nothing had happened to Jason. He was reckless and jumped into situations without ever assessing the area. You knew one day it would get him hurt or worse yet killed and unfortunately for you and everyone else, today was that day. All you remember is Bruce getting to the warehouse, a large explosion, and you crumpling to the ground, tears clouding your vision. 

Apparently crying was all that you could do anymore, you felt helpless, useless even. The next few days after the funeral Bruce was gone. Either in the cave or out on patrol, hunting Joker down. You remember being on call when he finally found the clown prince. You finally had hope that Jason could be avenged. That he could be at peace, knowing his killer was no longer able to hurt anyone, but to your dismay, Joker remained alive. Bruce simply put him in Arkham, like that has done any good. You were angry, furious even at the man you looked at as a father. His only response being “We don’t break code.” 

You knew getting angry wouldn’t do anything so you trained. Trained until you could take care of the problem yourself. Unlike Jason though, you were better at hiding your emotions. You followed Bruce’s orders, let him boss you around and make you the best you could be. Unknown to him was your plan to get rid of the Joker. You never wanted to kill anyone but for Jason you could make this one exception. The monster had taken your person away. Your plan was fool proof, until Bruce caught on. Which landed you where you were now.

His hand gently caressed your face as you sat in the gardens of the manor, wiping away the tears that fell down your face. You sniffled as you looked into his eyes. These tears were different from those you had been shedding. These were tears of joy, joy over you waking up from the nightmare of a world in which he was no longer with you. You hear him ask ‘What’s wrong?’ but as you try to answer, nothing comes out of your mouth. You try again and still nothing comes out. Slowly, his hand disappears from your face and he is slipping away from you once more. You try to scream but again, nothing can be heard. Your mouth can be seen making the movements of you trying to call out Jason’s name over and over, but once again...silence”

You gasped awake trying to scream once more but then you realize you are no longer in the garden. You were in your cell at Arkham, put there by a man who you thought would get why you were trying to go against the code. The code that got your best friend killed. The code that he refused to break even though it cost him a child, a partner, your best friend. 

You realized it was just a dream, a wonderful dream that brought you out of your current nightmare. As you let your heart calm itself, you laid facing the ceiling, and wished that you could go back into the dream world. Maybe you could act crazy enough so the guards would sedate you and you can go back there. As you contemplated how you were going to slip back into your dream state, grunts and gun fire interrupted you. The shouts of your fellow inmates soon took over though, screaming at whoever it was to get them out. You sat up, curious to see just who it was that caused such a disturbance and ruined you going back into your dream land. Although the shouts of your neighbors were loud, you could still pick out a pair of boots, stomping their way towards your cell. Two shots went off at what you were assuming was the lock to your cell from how close it sounded. You crept toward the door just wondering why this person was so interested in breaking you out and just who it was. The door swung open revealing a tall muscular figure with a red helmet on and a clock reading 00:00:00:00. 

“Who are you?” you yelled at the strange figure. They simply stepped toward you with a syringe while you backed away from them. All of a sudden, they lunged at you, trying to inject whatever it was into your system. You fought back and forth which ended with you pinned against the wall, arm across your throat and needle in your neck. The plunger was pushed down and soon the dark cell which contained you turned completely black. 

“Jason! Where are you?” your little voice echoed in the damp.

“Shhh! Get over here!” Jason whisper-yelled to you. As you turned the corner, a sleek black vehicle you recognized to be the batmobile sat in the ally. 

“Jason are you crazy! You are seriously stealing the tires off of the batmobile?”

“Yeah, imagine what these will go for! I’m sure the guy can afford it anyways.”

“Ahem.” The sound of the deep voiced vigilante was heard behind you and your immediate thought was “Oh, shit!” You quickly turned around, ready to do what you could in order to give Jason time to run even though that would be pointless. Only this time when you turned around, it wasn’t the outline of Batman with street lights illuminating his background, it was just darkness. Darkness surrounded you and suddenly there was nothing below your feet. You fell through a black void. No destination in sight or anything to grab onto so you could slow down your fall, just darkness. You tried to scream, but like with most of your dreams, it was useless. Nothing came out and…

“Ugh,” a small grunt left your lips as you felt the bed that you just got tossed on bounce with your weight. The impact had woken you out of your daze only for you to realize that both your hands and feet were bound and the person who had taken you out of your cell was going through a bag that was sitting on a table about 5 feet away from the bed. 

“Morning,” you barely heard come from the figure in your daze.

“Who are you and what do you want?” you yelled at the Kevlar covered man.

“Oh princess, you don’t get to know that quite yet. You are just gonna have to be patient,” his deep voice resonated through your ears as he headed for the door. The door clicked close and the deadbolt was set. After he left, you worked on getting out of your constraints. The knots were done well, so well you almost gave up. But you didn’t know what this creep wanted and you did not want to find out. 

You had no clue as to when the man was going to reappear but you wanted to be ready in case he came back early. You quickly went for the knife sitting on the table but as you picked it up, you froze. Underneath the knife was a picture of you and Jason. 'Why would a stranger have this?' You asked yourself. Now you were curious and knew the only way to get answers was to dig around, so that's what you did. You opened every drawer and sorted through all the cabinets and when you got to one that was locked, you picked the lock to find not only more pictures of you and Jason, but also of the manor, Bruce, and Alfred. With all that, was your criminal record, the most recent being attempted murder. You should be sorry but the clown had it coming and you still seek revenge for what happened.

"You always were a snoop," his deep voice startled you out of whatever was going on in your mind. 

"So you know me, you know who the Batman is...who are you?" Maybe it was the drugs he had given you before but the only explanation should be impossible.

"I think you know princess."

"No, it's impossible. How can…"

"Thank Ra's. He put me in the lazarus pit."

"Jason...I" at this point you were almost in tears. You hesitantly reached up, eager to see his face. He bent his head down in order to help you out and to signify he was okay with revealing himself to you. As you brought the helmet down off his face, he brought his head up and his eyes met yours. As soon as those green orbs looked into your own, you launched at him with arms open to give him a hug. You had finally gotten your best friend back.

[redhoodieone]

Wrong Number Part 2

A/N: Here’s Part 2! Uh…I don’t really know what to say other than…enjoy it! Hopefully, I can post Part 3 sometime next week.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, Text Message Nudes, and Mutual Masturbation.

I’m in complete shock. I know I’m frozen because I can’t literally take my eyes off the text message Jason sent to me. It’s clear; it’s in black and white, staring right at me.

Do you ever think we’ll meet each other?

He wants to meet me. Jason wants to meet me in person!

I want to text him back, but my mind is full of many ridiculous questions and the fears of Jason being a serial killer, or rapist, or just an insane Arkham escapee blows up in my head.

Before I knew it, I see the three bubbles on my screen.

I’m sorry. That was selfish of me to ask you that even though we’re still practically strangers to each other. Forget I asked, please?

My heart suddenly hurts like fuck. The pain I’m instantly feeling is very familiar. A broken heart?

It’s pure agony when I notice Jason texting me again.

I’m not going to be able to text tonight, sweetheart. I’m working late with my brothers. I’ll text you tomorrow. Have a good night. Sweet dreams.

I can’t believe I did this. How could I do this to a guy who’s been so funny, so sweet, and such a good friend in only just four days through text messages?

I seriously fucked up. And now I have no one to talk to until I fall asleep.

And as strange as it is, I only sleep well after I talk to him.

 ————————————————————————------------------------------

And true to his word, Jason texts me at five in the morning, only to let me know he made it home safe after working with his brothers.

We only spoke about our jobs once. He told me he works alongside police officers and tracks down criminals and helps brings justice to the city. He seemed almost hesitant to tell me and turned the conversation to me as if he doesn’t like talking about work. He made it clear that he would rather keep his work private, and I didn’t push him to tell me more. I didn’t want to ask a lot of questions, even if I’m sometimes curious about it, because I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable about it.

I had told him I’m a waitress at the local diner just a block away from GCPD, and how I’m a late-night writer who dreams of publishing my novel on love and loss. And after I confessed about the book I wrote to Jason, I noticed he was very enthusiastic about that and even told me he wants to read it.

And as the shy and insecure person that I am, I became embarrassed and said no.

That only fueled the fire between us. Jason went on to explain he loves to read. His favorite literature consists of Shakespeare (particularly Hamlet), George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm, and even poetry from Edgar Allen Poe.

He even went into depth of how The Tell-Tale Heart mirrors his own reflection of life and stuck with him during a depressing time in his life.

It wasn’t until after we shared our love for literature that I found myself falling for Jason. As ridiculous and insane as that sounds, I couldn’t help but feel as if he’s the missing piece in my life.

It’s as if he’s the words to my story.

Important, but very valuable to a writer.

I was basically on a high that had me grinning like an idiot, giggling like a moron, and jumping in my seat as my stomach twists and turns like a roller coaster, when Jason refused to take no for an answer after I said he couldn’t read my novel. He even said his dad has connections to businesses in Gotham and could even help me get it published.

As much as I would want that, I couldn’t help but feel that it seems too good to be true. What if his dad took my novel and publish it as his own? What if I get cheated out of a contract and didn’t get paid fairly like I should? What if it’s basically a soul-sucking scam to just fuck my entire life up?

Jason must have sensed my hesitation after that, because he then began to tell me about his brothers.

How his older brother Dick still treats him like a kid, even though Jason is taller and stronger than him.

How his younger brother Tim is a computer nerd and often geeks out over the oddest things.

And how his youngest brother Damian is really a demon spawn, who tries to be tough shit, but is really a soft teddy bear.

He even has a sassy but wise butler, Alfred, who frightens him and sometimes reminds him of Vito Corleone from The Godfather. But the older man loves Jason as much as his dad, Bruce.

The stories about Jason’s family are the best. I always find myself excited to see what he texts me about his family.

How he and his brothers fight over their dad’s car, how they wrestle and spar to see who’s the strongest one, and how whenever one’s in trouble, the other three are already finding ways to save or bail the troubled one out.

It all makes me feel good to know they’re a close family. Especially when my cold, harsh reality reminds me I don’t have a family.

My parents died when I was just fifteen years old. I was in the school library alone during afterhours; reading on a beanbag chair because I didn’t want to go home. At that particular time, my parents were hanging around a different crowd. A crowd that was into drugs and gambling, and possibly other illegal activities I don’t even know about.

So, I chose to stay in the school library that night, sitting in my favorite beanbag chair the librarian allows me to use, reading a favorite horror book, munching away on a hot pocket (a snack also from the librarian), and just enjoy the silence but comfortable environment I would call home.

Then I was told they died in a car accident, but after eavesdropping on Commissioner Gordon and the other cops, I heard there could have been a hit on them.

The car accident happened only a block away from our apartment.

The brakes were cut.

The car was burning too much oil.

The airbags were taken out.

Many noticeable factors couldn’t pinpoint the real crime. Eventually, they just called it a “car accident”, and everything fishy about the case was ignored and never brought up again.

I suffered and struggled a lot in foster homes until I turned 18. I didn’t have any other family members to get into contact with, so I had to make do with the foster care system. After being shipped to three unstable and cruel homes, the last family only dealt with me until I turned 18 and I was soon kicked out. I did get lucky enough to get a job at the diner I’m working at since the new manager needed a pretty young girl to serve the customers.

I even went to Gotham Community College for a year but dropped out when I couldn’t pass any math and science classes.

It was fucking hard.

Science was confusing as hell.

Math was just evil and useless.

I hated those classes so much.

I only passed my English classes because reading and writing only made sense to me.

I even took a creative writing class and poetry class only to discover I want to write.

I want to be a writer.

So, I dropped out of college and decided to work full time at the diner as a waitress. Since no one wants to live and work in Gotham, I’m lucky enough to work morning and night without any issues. As dangerous and scary Gotham can be, I have nowhere else to go, so that’s why I stay here.

Maybe that’s why I’m eager to meet Jason. After everything I’ve been through, maybe I do need a little unpredictability.

Chances.

Risks.

The more I consider meeting Jason, the more I can imagine him being my family.

Or being a part of his.

Maybe.

 ————————————————————————--------------------------------

“You’re not going to meet him, right???” Stacey raises her voice at me in sheer annoyance and panic. She crosses her arms and glares at me to answer her. “Right, Y/N???”

I sigh as softly as I can while wiping down the booths and tables for the night. In the midst of a battle, I find myself growling with irritation when I can’t wipe away the sticky maple syrup spills on the hard surface.

“He could be a fat, old man who picks up on teenage girls! He’s probably some 40-year-old loser who still lives on his mom’s basement playing Street Fighter with kids! What if he tricks you into meeting up in a hotel room and has his way with you? Then what, Y/N?! Does that sound like a good idea to you?!” Stacey snaps.

I exhale deeply and stand up straight; after leaning over the table to reach the opposite side for some time. Turning around, I face Stacey Patterson, a tall, petite, pretty blonde, fresh face girl straight out of high school. She’s a waitress like me, and after only working here for a year, we’ve become close friends; always looking after each other in dangerous Gotham City.

“I didn’t say I was going to meet him, Stacey. We’re just talking about it,” I answer timidly.

Despite being five years older than Stacey, she still intimidates the hell out of me. Whether it’s her 5’11 height, loud voice, or natural evil glare, I can never speak up or defend myself. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t take a stand.

Because what if I actually piss her off? What if she stops being my friend?

Because I don’t think I could live in Gotham and not have any friends and not know anyone.

Stacey is like my best friend, and her friends Amber and Holly hang out in our group. Stacey even says they’re my friends, too, even though I clearly know they only put up with me because of her.

And if Amber and Holly aren’t my friends, then I’ll just have Stacey. And if I don’t have Stacey, I’ll only have Jason.

And who knows if Jason is who he says he is, and if he’s even real.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You’re totally thinking about Jason! You’re thinking about meeting up with him because I could see it in your eyes!” Stacey declares. She waves her arms around to emphasize her point. “You like this guy! You have feelings for a guy you’ve never even met!”

“That is not true,” I argue weakly.

“Yes, it is! And we don’t even know if it’s a guy!”

“Jason is a guy, and I can tell!”

“Oh, really? How? Do tell.”

I stare at Stacey with a serious expression, except my cheeks are burning with embarrassment as usual. “He...comes off like a guy. I know he is. I can tell through his text messages,” I say.

“Anybody can sound like anyone through text messages. That’s how people catfish victims online!” Stacey argues.

“I’m a writer, Stacey. I just...have a feeling, okay? I know Jason says who he is, and I believe him,” I say strongly, as I push a lose strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m doing this the smart way, too. When he and I decide when we should meet up, I’ll let you know. Maybe we can make it a group thing. I bring a friend. He brings a friend.”

Stacey sighs in defeat when she realizes I’m not backing down. She glances up at me with a stern face. “Fine. When you two decide when you’re both going to meet up, I’ll be there. I’ll be there to make sure he’s not on America’s Most Wanted, and to make sure he doesn’t try to lure you to his mom’s basement. BUT...you have to go on a date. A REAL date with a guy we both know, AND who could be good for you,” she states loudly and clearly.

“But Stacey-”

“Hey! Only until this Jason guy comes to Gotham and we meet him! Until then, I want you to give this guy a chance. A fair chance! For me...please???” Stacey pleads. She pouts and gives me her puppy dog eyes, which she knows I always give in to.

I’m too nice. Mom always said I was too nice, and that one day it’ll get me in trouble.

I’m still wondering when that’ll happen.

“Okay, I’ll give this guy a chance. I swear I will,” I promise and salute her. “But who’s the guy?”

Stacey grins in success and hugs me tightly. “Good! Because you’re like my sister, Y/N, and I just want to see you happy. You deserve it,” she says softly. “And it’s Chace. Remember him? He’s the drummer from, WakeHell. He moved in right next door to me, and I know you two will hit it off right!”

Chace????

Oh yeah. I know him.

He’s a total bad boy. A bad boy I don’t even think I could deal with.

I force a smile but then frown, because the only guy in my life who makes me happy is Jason.

Who I only text.

Who I haven’t even met.

 ————————————————————————---------------------------------

The next day is a lazy day since it’s my day off. I spent the majority of it sleeping, doing laundry, and just doing minor cleaning around my apartment until it’s 9:00 P.M.

And Cruel Intentions is on TV.

Lying on the couch with my second glass of Vodka Cranberry, I find myself really buzzed and horny. Ryan Phillippe back then was hot, and him making out with Reese Witherspoon is doing things to me.

My phone bings. It’s Jason.

What are you up to tonight, sweetheart?

Just a night in, a cup of glasses of vodka and cranberry, and Cruel Intentions is on TV.

I barely realize I’m buzzed and texting Jason. But my horny side doesn’t care.

I sorry I’m buzzed right now lol.

LOL no worries. I just came back from the bar with my brothers. We had a successful night and decided to get some drinks. We even had Tim and Damian use fake I.D’s.

I laugh and snort. Thank God no one heard me do that.

That’s good...we wouldn’t want Tim and Damian to be left out. They’re your baby brothers, Jay.

Jay? I really like it when you call me that. And I especially like you buzzed. LOL.

I like me buzzed too! I think I’m way more fun and free!

LOL!!! Exactly, princess!

I smile down at my phone. I love it when he calls me princess.

You said you’re watching Cruel Intentions? I just found it on TV. Wow...this movie’s old LOL.

Shut up!!! I find young Ryan Phillppe sexy in this movie!

You seriously find him sexy??? The guy’s a whiny brat! A pussy! Fuck, this movie woulda been sexier if we actually saw the douchebag eat out Cecile and saw him fuck Annette AND Kathryn!

I gasp out loud and giggle.

Then it would have been a porno! Not a movie! Hahaha!!!!

That’s fine with me, princess!

I softly whimper at just the thought of Jason watching porn. Closing my eyes, I imagine how he would sound, touch himself, and look when he’s pleasuring himself.

My eyes shoot open when I hear Sebastian telling Cecile he wants to kiss her…down there. I quickly turn my attention to the TV and watch the movie. Even though he takes advantage of a clueless, drunk girl in the movie, just the thought of him eating her out makes me clench my thighs.

It’s been too long. WAY TOO LONG!

The last guy I was seeing didn’t like to eat me out; claimed it was disgusting and unnecessary to do before sex.

As if sucking his dick was glamorous AND fun!

My thoughts are interrupted when Jason texts me.

You’re quiet tonight…does this scene turn you on???

The laughing emojis he texts me should hurt my feelings since I can easily be embarrassed over sexual things but…he’s right.

I’m turned on with just the thought of getting eaten out.

I boldly text Jack back. Unashamed and VERY buzzed.

You have no idea. Just imagining him eating me out, writing the alphabet with his tongue, and making me have an explosion is making me wet my panties right now.

I laugh to myself just seeing that Jason read my text message and is responding fast. The texting bubbles have never looked so good.

You’re…you’re wet right now????

Yes. Soooo fucking wet.

A surge of drunken confidence hits me, and I quickly shove off my pajama shorts until they’re on the floor. In just my white tank top and pink panties, I bravely slip my fingers into my damp panties and rub the wetness against my sensitive clit.

And with my other hand, I raise my cell phone and snap a picture of fingers in my wet panties.

And I send the picture to Jason.

I bite my lip in anticipation when I see he read my text message and saw my picture. The texting bubbles do not appear on the screen. He’s not texting me back.

Frowning, I wonder if I freaked Jason out. Maybe I crossed the line. Maybe I made him uncomfortable. Maybe I’m just not sexy.

Suddenly, my phone beeps. Unlocking my cell phone screen, I see two text messages AND a picture.

Oh, fuck sweetheart…that’s fucking sexy. You’re fucking sexy…

Jason sends me a picture of him wearing his boxer briefs, and his hand holding his hard, thick cock, showing me the outline and shape of his boner.

Delicious. I can feel my pussy clench just from imagining Jason fucking me with his cock.

Fuck doll...you’re doing this to me.

I whimper pathetically and can’t help but continue to rub my clit and respond back. I can see my juices staining my panties.

Are you touching yourself too?

Fuck yeah. Just seeing your fingers playing with your wet, pretty pussy got me hard. I’m jacking off to your picture.

Would you want me like I want you?

Fuck yes, sweetheart. I probably want you more than you want me.

I slip a finger inside my pussy and moan. My thumb runs fast hard circles on my clit, and I’m soon pushing in two fingers. I’m fucking myself crazy, but I imagine Jason is finger fucking me because my fingers wouldn’t get me off so fast.

And his fingers are thick. His hands are fucking huge!

I bite my bottom lip. “Fuck...I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” I whisper to myself. I snap another picture of my fingers shoved in my pussy, and how I’ve gotten wetter. I send him the picture with the truth.

I need to cum so bad. I wish it was you touching me.

Yeah? What would you want me to do to you, doll?

Fuck that picture’s so hot.

I’d want you to finger me. Eat me out. Fuck me hard.

Jason sends me another picture of him stroking his cock but with his hand in his underwear. I can see a wet spot where his tip is; stained with his precum. I want a taste of it so badly.

Fuck I would baby. Your pussy looks so good enough to eat. I’d fucking eat you out until you can’t cum anymore. I bet you taste delicious.

Oh fuck…I’m so close. I want your cock so bad, Jay. You’re gonna make me cum…

Rub your clit harder baby. Fuck your pussy fast and hard with your fingers. Imagine they’re my fingers, baby. I’d fuck you so hard and deep. 

I want to see your cum, okay? Take a picture of that pretty pussy and show me what I did to you.

I do what Jason says. Behind his words, I can feel his authority. Even though I can’t hear Jason’s voice, just reading his words makes me burst like fireworks. My thumb rubs my clit harder, and I crook my fingers just right until I push against my g-spot until I cum. My orgasm is intense, and I force myself to snap a picture of my soaked underwear and fingers. I sent it to him with a lazy smile.

My phone beeps. Jason sent me a picture of his thick, juicy, cum covering his abdominal muscles. I smile a little with pride. 

Fuck that was hot, sweetheart. I needed that. 

Me too. Now, I’m sleepy. 

LOL, I’m tired too. Get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.  

Okay…goodnight Jay.  

I roll over onto my side and shut off the TV. Pulling my UGG throw blanket over my body, I snuggle up to fall asleep. My phone beeps again. Opening one eye, I reach over to read the text message. 

Goodnight doll. Sweet dreams.  

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December Day 7

@daminette-december2019-2020

((Note: If you’re a confused little muffin who saw our ship in the top 100 list and you want to know what in the ever loving fuck we are, feel free to dm me or mention me in a post or even to send an ask. do be warned tho that if u send me hate i will block and report u (and not just to tumblr, to everyone I know who is part of this fandom). our little sub fandom is not a toxic space and no one is allowed to make it one or there will be a fucking war))

And we’re back to our anxiety induced in denial Damian. I love this kid. Tho I do wanna make him slightly more… how do I say this… like cold? I dunno maybe I can bring that in with other people and his interactions. I just wanna write him with his proper grammar and what not and like lbh this boi is already a simp for Mari. But I don’t wanna let things happen too quickly, y’know?

Anyway, maybe I should make the theme of this chapter the fact that he has absolutely no chill. Lmao, I think that’s hilarious ngl. Also I’m just gonna pretend certain things existed back then for the sake of my sanity I can’t keep coming up with words that make sense for explaining what a thing is without saying the actual word because it didn’t exist yet. The hologram in that one chapter was hard enough bruh

Ok here we go, thanks for reading! I hope u enjoy it

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 7 – Chill

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Damian rolled the ring between his fingers as the morning light filtered through his windows. She’d put the choice in his hands, it was a kind thing to do, smart too. It made sense, if this role was as important as she made it sound it needed someone who could commit to it.

The miraculous was the kind of black that seemed to stretch on forever. It had a bright green paw print on it. He hadn’t put it on yet but from what he could gather it’s kwami would appear as soon as he put it on.

He'd be one of the leaders of an entire Order. He had no idea how big it was. His mother had raised him to lead but that was an entirely different organization. How would Marinette react to that? Could he handle the responsibility?

These thoughts had been plaguing him from the moment he picked up the ring.

But that wasn’t what got to him the most. She was just so… good. She had even agreed to move her entire court to Gotham for his sake. To uproot her entire life and move everyone involved just so that he could stay with his family.

There had to be a catch.

There always is.

He sighed, overthinking everything wasn’t going to help him make this decision.

There was only one thing he could do.

He put on the ring and a bright light caught him off guard. A small floating cat like being appeared in front of him.

“Kid?” he kept his eyes closed as though he didn’t want to see who was in front of him, his voice breaking slightly.

Slowly, the kwami – Plagg if he remembered correctly - opened his eyes. Damian stared at him as disappointment flitted across the creature’s face.

He lifted his brow and asked, “Hope to see someone else, Plagg?”

He chuckled slightly, sadness lacing the sound, “My previous holder, thought maybe I'd get the chance to say goodbye this time,”

Damian frowned, “What do you mean?”

Plagg frowned, “You don’t know about my previous holder? Who gave you my miraculous?”

“Marinette did,” he said, simply, “She actually just gave me the chance to consider the offer of the position, I have the rest of the day to get to know you and make my decision,”

Plagg seemed to consider what he said, he then sat down on the bed in front of Damian. He explained the basics of the miraculous to him, the phrases he needed to use as well as what those phrases would do. The things he’d need as well as what behaviors he might pick up.

“Purring?” Damian said in a disbelieving voice, “You’re telling me I might start purring in my civilian form?”

Plagg cackled, “Yeah, don’t worry it’s not that bad,”

“Tt, what exactly is the purpose of it? In fact what exactly is my purpose? It seems like she has the leadership thing under control,”

Plagg seemed to sober up at the question, he flew up right in front of Damian’s face and looked him in the eyes, “Her job is to lead and look after her court,” his look sharpened and he narrowed his eyes, “Your job is to look after her, your job is to protect her, your job is to see her. Your purpose is to make hers as easy as possible. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll have other official responsibilities and you will rule alongside her, but your real job? Your purpose? You have to help her remember that she’s only human and that that’s okay,”

Damian stared at Plagg, the kwami stared back. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? There had to be something. Some kind of catch.

Before he could grill the kwami, Dick burst into his room.

Damian could see his brother’s clear panic and immediately stood. Dick’s eyes found his, “She’s gone,”

Damian felt himself spiral, memories flew through his mind. All the times he or any of his siblings had been taken. Cass didn’t speak for a month after the last incident. Jason’s “secret" panic attacks had increased tremendously. Tim stayed up for nights on end, only sleeping when he passed out. Damian sparred for hours and hours, hating the feeling of being useless. 

His father and Dick weren’t in Gotham at the time and Selina was helping Harley with one of her ‘projects’.

When they got Steph back after a week, she was so shook up that she kept waking up screaming from nightmares for months.

They all blamed themselves.

“Her kwami showed us a letter she left but someone could’ve faked it to buy time, they’re searching the village,” Jason said, coming into his room, holding a piece of parchment.

Damian barely registered the way Plagg seemed to study his reactions. They needed to find her, it was already afternoon, who knows how far gone she could be?

They spent hours scouring the castle. Before he knew it the moon was rising and they were all gathered in the living room, going over possibilities.

“I’m going to go get Alfred and Bruce, this has been going on long enough, it’s time to call in back up. It’s already passed nightfall and she’s not back yet,” Dick walked out of the room, barely two seconds passed before he shouted something to them, “Guys I found her!”

They were out quicker than a lightning bolt. He ignored his siblings as they all flocked around her. He took her in.

She was wearing a cloak, which Jason quickly took and gave to a passing maid. She wore one of her black dresses. Her hair was in a braid.

But the cloak was dirty, the dress had tears and the braid was messy.

But it was her eyes that got him. The blue irises looked like someone had taken every drop of sadness in the world and left it in them. They were red rimmed and puffy and there were black bags under them.

She’d been crying and she hadn’t slept. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

Somewhere along the line, they moved back into the living room. Cass was sitting next to Marinette on the couch and the others were arguing.

Damian couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was here. She was safe. She wasn’t taken.

Cass tapped his arm, he turned to look at her and she started signing. (a/n ok yeah I know that sign language might not have existed but do I really care?)

Get her out of here, she’s tired, Cass signed.

Damian nodded and after asking her permission and scolding his siblings, he escorted her to her room.

Plagg whispered something to her that he couldn’t hear. 

Then she apologized for scaring him and he explained his thought process. She explained that he would’ve been able to know via their miraculous whether she was in trouble or not. He made a mental note to ask Plagg more about that.

When they got to her room he opened her door. She was about to go in but he grabbed her hand, stopping her. She looked at him expectantly. He searched her gaze, he had so much he wanted to ask her, why she’d been crying was at the top of that list.

But she looked so tired, and Damian just couldn’t get himself to form the words. Instead he bid her goodnight and went back to the living room where his siblings were waiting.

All eyes turned to him when he entered. He didn’t know what to say. Instead of thinking his words through he blurted out the first thing he thought.

“She didn’t flinch when our eyes met,” he said. They all stared at him for a few seconds. Usually they would’ve laughed at his bluntness, Damian is certain, but there was something about the haunted look on her face that sapped all humor out of the situation.

Jason was crouched in front of the fire. Stephanie sat on one of the chairs while Dick leaned against its armrest. Damian was next to Cassandra on the couch and the five of them sat in silence.

Millions of questions danced through the air, the answers all just out of reach.

Little did they know that they weren’t the only ones with questions.

Outside, three pairs of eyes were watching the oblivious siblings closely.

Damian felt a chill go down his spine and turned towards the window. He walked over and stared out into the forest, he didn’t see anyone but the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave him.

He closed the curtains.

The smallest of the three chuckled slightly, “She got herself a paranoid one, huh?”

“We need to head back,” the only guy out of the three said to the others.

They nodded and followed him deeper into the forest.

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