#and the jason & alfred content!!!!! god bless

[secondratefiction]

Hi there! Hope you’re doing well! Kicking that funeral services degree’s ass with any luck!! I was wondering if you would be up to writing a drabble for Jason or Tim (whoever you think fits the scenario best) as the boyfriend of a law student. Maybe where they’re living together and she’s just barely getting 3-5 hours of sleep a night while trying to study for finals, writing a full legal brief, practicing for oral arguments, getting ready for her summer associateship, and applying for moot court and law review. (Is this based on some poor law student’s real life? We may never know!) And just like her needing someone to be there and take care of her, but also her wanting to take care of him too even though she is very much Trying Her Best to Survive™? (Btw thank you so much for blessing us with batfam content galore, absolute ICON <3 )

Oh good lord… bless you and this ‘hypothetical’ poor law student. I know my degree is kicking my ass all across the state and back, so I can only imagine… They keep telling me the degrees are worth it… we’ll ride it out and see. Good vides, and better times love 💜

—

Now I fully believe that Timmy would be wonderful at this in his own right… but every single thing about this request violently screams Jason Todd to me…

There are only so many hours and so many spoons in a day, and unfortunately a law degree takes up almost every single ounce of both of them

However, Jason has this innately ingrained need to take care of the people that matter to him, so this is exactly where he shines

He was always Alfred’s best protege, so the man cooks and cleans house like a pro. Not only that, but it’s something that he genuinely enjoys because they are simple and repetitive tasks that let zone out and go through the motions to decompress from his ‘other job’.

While he’s happy to take care of all of that and leave you to focus on the proverbial, ever-growing mountain of work you have - He’s not above making you stop to take a break.

It is not an uncommon occurrence for this man to literally close your laptop, throw you over his shoulder*, and haul you out to the kitchen table to sit down and have a meal with him.

((*I do not care what size you are, or what hang ups you might have about your weight, if this man can hold up a collapsing ceiling, he can carry you across y’alls apartment))

“Ok, I have physically seen you putting food and water into your body, you can go back to your cave now.”

This happens at least 2-3 times a week

He is concerned. Just humor him and let him love you.

Jason is 100% the type to be actively learning from anything you tell him

Some nights, when the insomnia and the nightmares decide to double team him, he’ll even sit up browsing through your textbooks just to try and understand everything you're doing more.

Tim get’s labeled the nerd of the family a lot, but really Jason would have been the family scholar if he’d had the chance

The second bedroom in your apartment is both your office and his library. That shit is floor to ceiling.

With that in mind he is always more than happy to be a sounding board when you need him to. Listen to what you’ve got, argue the other side if necessary

Dear god, just know what you’re getting into there… he lives for that kind of stuff, and he will come prepared. This is one of his all time favorite games, that comes second only to aggravating the living shit out of you (which, if he’s lucky, will be a bonus here)

95% of the time, Jason has got this, got you - focus on your school babe, I’ll take care of it… but that 5%? That bit where he’s not actually infallible? He so very desperately doesn’t want you to see that.

What you’re doing is important, and he doesn’t want the fact he had a rough night to be a distraction for you. This is where you enter a bit of a balancing act…

As much as you may want to put everything aside and take care of him, that is the fastest way to make him shut down.

Instead, grab a textbook and a highlighter. Go ‘make yourself some tea’ and pour him a mug too. Set everything up in the living room and drag him onto the couch with you.

Put his head in your lap, and just run your fingers through his hair while you do some reading.

Bonus points if you put a blanket over him

Poor baby is gonna melt in an instant and be out cold before you know it. Just keep playing with his hair and let him sleep.

And do not mention it if he is emotional when he wakes up… he’s never going to be good/get used to receiving love and affection. Do it anyway, and don’t make a big deal about it.

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

You've Always Been the Sweetest Song

First posted: May 25, 2019

Focuses on: Jason Todd and Bruce Wayne

Favorite bookmark: "Oh my god i came looking for gold and I received mythril. IT'S THE GOOD CONTENT FOLKS.

Tier: Pretty middle, but at least in the top half of all metrics

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

As I put in the notes for this one, the idea started with watching Under the Red Hood for the first time with @starknjarvis27 and LOSING. MY. MIND. over how the movie chose to set up and portray Jason's return to Gotham. Then I went on a rabid rant to @audreycritter about how it SHOULD have gone, and here we are.

The title comes from a David Cook song that is a very Bruce song to me.

As best Bruce could reason, there were nine possibilities, ranging in plausibility from manageably unusual to outright insane, as dictated by the facts he could be sure of.

The thing about Bruce is he will always try to be logical. This is especially true in high-stress high-emotion moments. This poor man had to bury his son and was deeply destroyed for several years after. And now he suspects a new enemy might actually be his dead son, whose corpse he held and whose body he buried??? My guy is not going to reach that conclusion without AMPLE evidence AND every other alternative being crossed off as implausible, even if he has that immediate spark of recognition.

Figuring out what Bruce would accept as confirmed fact and what theories he would consider was a challenge, but a fun one. The tricky thing for me was I did need to get him to the place where he would rationally be able to consider Jason resurrected as plausible, when that's not a very plausible possibility at all. Comics, man.

The Cave was empty. Bruce’s foul mood—really, no more than poorly disguised panic, but foul nonetheless—had run off everyone else. Even Alfred. He was alone, with nothing but the computer and a backlit memorial case to keep him company. It was safe to rest his head in his hands, so he did.

My boy was going through it.

All Bruce had was the life before him, the one with visits from Dick, patrol with Tim, and solitary visits to a quiet cemetery. To hope for anything different was… foolish. . . . Even when the results returned and the screen flashed bright with a name and an achingly familiar face, Bruce felt like he was waiting still. Some possibilities were scratched off, some shuffled to put them higher or lower in the probability rankings. But the truth waited.

Bruce, bless him, will always prioritize the truth, even when it's a truth that hurts him. And that often means that even when he wants something badly, he won't give in to the temptation of the lie. He wants his son back more than anything, but he wants it to be his son. Jason is too important to replace with a falsehood.

He couldn’t tell Alfred. Couldn’t bear the thought of putting the old man through whatever it was this was without answers. Couldn’t tell Dick or withstand the confusion, the demands, the fresh heartbreak. Couldn’t tell Tim. Couldn’t begin to fathom what this would mean for any of them.

Bruce so often is so alone, not even necessarily by choice, not because it's his preference, but because he would rather take a heavy burden on himself than unload onto others and damage them in the process. (He is not always correct on the consequences and sometimes badly misjudges. But still he is trying.)

It couldn’t be Jason. Jason Todd was just a boy, slight and wiry even for fifteen. He had yet to reach his growth spurt, his potential for height only evident in the gangliness of his limbs, the knobby stretch of hands and feet too big for him. Though fed regularly and lovingly by Alfred, he had never quite shaken the damage of years of malnutrition. He was just a little boy.

This is a thing I love love love love to dig into, both from Jason's perspective and from those who knew him before. He wasn't just 15 and growing; in my version of this world, he's slight. There was no indication in him that he would become a tank. And besides, even if there had been, he was just a kid when he died and he was gone for several years.

Hood’s voice was low and rough, like a crowbar dragged across cement.

My favorite descriptor. It's a mean little nod on my part but also really how I mentally characterize Jason's voice as Hood, thanks to repetitive listens to "The Devil & the Huntsman" and "Arsonist's Lullaby" while thinking about Jason. It also matches neatly with the way Jensen Ackles voices Jason in the movie, so.

Red Hood laughed. It was not Jason’s laugh. It was hard, unyielding, and utterly devoid of humor. . . . Stop. Stop. Don’t use his words. Don’t use that name. Not without proof.

He so badly wants Hood to be Jason, because he wants his son to be alive, but he CANNOT let himself believe until he's certain. Believing a lie would break him.

At Bruce’s movement, he had swung the gun around and pointed it squarely at Bruce’s chest. Bruce didn’t care.

My original discussion with Audrey involved some version of me ranting that Bruce would hug his son even while Jason stabbed him, and I initially intended to write an actual stabbing but it got in the way.

Bruce’s arms tightened further, one hand coming up to cup the back of the neck, and he buried his nose into the sweaty, riotous curls. He knew that smell. Bruce breathed in movie nights and late-night homework sessions, false alarms and real scares, sick days and training sessions. He knew the smell of these curls, of this boy, as well as he knew his own name.

This was the bit that I text-screamed at either Audrey or Stark that got me to write this fic. Bruce Wayne absolutely buries his nose in his kids' hair and he absolutely 100% know exactly what they smell like.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

end of beginning

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/pkO4o5m

by Anonymous

They first meet in the marketplace.

Tim sees him, however cliche it sounds, across the square and thinks for a moment maybe he’s a god.

He’d heard about the gods coming down and meeting humans sometimes--offering them gifts and blessings and he thinks that he’s nothing that remarkable, before the man spots him.

His eyes light up and he makes his way through the crowd to him.

Or, five times Tim loses Bernard, and the one time he stays

Words: 12721, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 8 of anon s

Fandoms: DCU (Comics)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen, M/M

Characters: Tim Drake, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bernard Dowd, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne (Mentioned), Cassie Sandsmark (mentioned), Bart Allen (mentioned), Jason Todd (Mentioned), Darla Aquista (mentioned)

Relationships: Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent

Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Immortality, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Temporary Character Death, Blood and Violence, Implied Sexual Content, No Beta

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/pkO4o5m

[reineyday]

im so glad the wfa creators clearly love jason todd so much 🙏

[toastedside]

Mothers

Damian had dinner with Talia and they talked about Batmom.

===========================================

Damian didn’t know what he should feel about this.

It’s been a very long time since he had a peaceful meal together with Talia. Or it felt like one, he didn’t know. Certainly, he had spent significant amount of days and night not having a peaceful meal together with his mother that he started to lose any strands of memories on how it should really be. Or does he never have any peaceful meal with her before? He wasn’t sure.

Should he really let his guard down? He wasn’t sure. It sure is felt wrong to let his guard down in the presence of his mother. After all, he knew her. She always had so many tricks underneath her sleeve. But it had been almost twenty-five minutes passed, and the dinner had been nothing but… pleasant.

“Hmm,” Talia made a sound. “They sure do make a great samosa. I admit your judgement is right. This is the best restaurant they have in the city.”

Damian pressed his lips together. “I am pleased to know you enjoy it as much as I do, Mother.”

Talia threw him a small smile. Or what he could considered as a smile from her, anyway. Damian did not have the smoothest relationship with his mother after all the odds happened. He certainly had seen her in different light after she had attempted to murder him with one of her clones of his own freaking self. But Damian certainly held a dear memory of days when his mother is warm to him.

She had not been perfect, but she tried, and she loved him dearly and fiercely too. In her very own twisted way, as she had tried her best to shield him from any bad influence that his grandfather is. But a powerful man of menace that he is, sometimes all of his mother’s best had not been enough to protect him from his grandfather. So, she had to send him away all across the country, gave the custody to his father, and had lived underneath the same roof with him ever since.

It certainly was a surprise that Talia showed up on the doorstep. Being civil and all, knocking the door and actually announce her presence. Not showing up out of nowhere sneaking her way into the Batcave or strike him in the daylight out of thin air. She wanted to rekindle and reconnect with him, that’s what she said, and Damian was hesitant. But Mom was enthusiastic with the idea – she had always been a very positive lady, bless her soul – and Father, surprisingly, did not opposed the idea.

Grayson did not. He was ready to throw a fit. But eventually begrudgingly agreed after a stern and long talk with Mom.

Besides, Mom and Father were supposed to attend a charity event in Star City this weekend. It’s a perfect occasion for him to have a day out with his mother while his other parents are away. God, it felt weird to address them that way. Grayson gave him a pep talk and a panic button that he certainly did not need in case things go south.

So far, things had been quite pleasant, if not good. They had stroll around the city, visited a zoo, went to a museum, and ready to end their day in this restaurant he had accidentally discovered few months ago. He didn’t even check his phone – well, once to text Grayson back and assured him that he was, in fact, very much alright – and surprisingly enjoy his time.

“If you have anything to say, then talk,” Talia’s voice snapped him out of his train of thought.

“Nothing. It had been a very good day with you, Mother,” Damian answered. He had almost forgot how straightforward his mother could be.

Talia pressed her lips together to form a thin smile. “Y/N…” she paused for a moment as if she was testing the way it rolled out of her tongue. “She had made you soft, hadn’t she? Or was it the work of your father?” Talia tilted her head to the side, studying him.

Damian didn’t say anything, but his hand tried to reach for his non-existent weapon on his pocket out of instinct. He and his mother agreed not to bring any sort of weapon on their day out together today.

“Y/N, what a bright woman she is. Too bright.” Talia’s finger traced the outline of the table. Damian braced himself for any words that would come next. “I understand why you take a liking on her.”

“You do?” the word came out before Damian could stop it. Talia’s head perked up at his question, the corner of her lips turned upwards.

“Yes. I admit she is a very likable woman. Even Jason Todd seemingly adore her, and we both know the man usually reluctant to put his guard down so easily.”

“In case it escapes your attention, Todd grew up with her.”

“And with your father too.” Talia raised a questioning eyebrow. One that she usually gave him when she questioned all of his method in training. Or progress. “Look at their relationship now. A little rough around the edges, if you ask me.”

“That’s just how they work.”

“That’s just how they work, indeed,” Talia agreed. “That’s just how it works with Y/N too.”

Damian nodded, understanding his mother’s point of view. But he couldn’t see where this conversation led them exactly, and why the matter of Mom had been brought into the table in the first place.

“You know, I only had met her once or twice. Not so much. But it certainly felt like I had known her for years. Your father used to talk fondly about her a lot back in the days when he was still in the League. Besides talking about his parents and Alfred Pennyworth, he had the habit to talk about Y/N too. Or should I call her Y/N Wayne, now that she is married to your father?”

Damian remained still. Talia waited for a few beats for him to answer, but the lack of response from his part was an enough answer. Talia shrugged it off. He knew she did. It wasn’t a first time.

“Any person would’ve known that it was love. He swore it was just a childish crush, he would say that a lot in his defence. But I know. I had always known. You should see the way his eyes shine when he talked about her,” Talia told him. Damian knew what his mother had talked about so well. He had witnessed it so many times. “Because he used to look at me with the same shine in his eyes, Damian.”

Damian’s breath caught in his throat. He remembered the early days of him arriving at his father’s doorstep, upset at the presence of another woman that he fondly calls Mom now. He recalled days of wishing his parents would just talk and reunite, before eventually made a peace with the fact that his father is very much happy with his marriage.

He couldn’t find any words to say, and Talia did not expect him to. An invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders magically. A small amount it seems, the one he barely noticed. But it was a comical amount of relief to knew that he was brought here by love his parents used to had with each other. For a short amount of time, perhaps, but it was still one.

“I am actually glad that you get to grow up with her.”

“Are you really?” Damian was a little skeptical, albeit hopeful and a little surprised.

“I am, Beloved,” Talia reassured him. Damian closed his eyes; it had been a long time since he had heard his mother addressed him that way. “There are many reasons why I had to leave you with your father, but I mainly wish you to have a better path and future than I do. Y/N had not been on the plan, but now I am glad that she is. She is capable to give you breaks and normalcy that your father used to had when he was your age. The one that I unable to give. I understand why your father had chosen to marry her; she is capable to give him the breaks he needs from his battles. I couldn’t give him that. I certainly couldn’t give that to you.”

Damian blinked. He didn’t know what to say.

“She had raised you and nurture you as if you are her own. Besides, she is bright and very well-educated. Maybe not the best fighter, if she ever learned at all.” Talia paused to formed a smile. “I like her.”

Damian let out a shaky breath he did not notice he was holding. He experienced a rush of many emotions at once, many that he couldn’t register and understand. He felt a hot prickle in his eyes, and if his mother notice there were tears welled in his eyes, she didn’t point it out.

There are few moments of silence exchanged between them. Talia was the first one to broke it off. “Let’s finish this off and I’ll drop you off at your father’s house. It’s already dark outside, and I’m certain Dick Grayson would explode if you don’t come back any time soon.”

Damian grimaced. “He tends to worry about me a lot. Sometimes I am convinced that he forgets I can protect and defend myself very well.”

“It is a good thing to have someone care about your well-being. Count it as a blessing,” Talia said with furrowed eyebrows. “Y/N told me you joined a soccer club in your school. Tell me about it on our way to your father’s house.”

Damian didn’t have any expectation on how his day would go, but certainly he did not expect to talk about his soccer club experience to his mother as they take a route back to the manor. He talked about his practice and an upcoming tournament that sadly his mother couldn’t attend.

It soon become a tradition between two of them. Talia would take Damian out somewhere whenever she could, which wasn’t that often considering her condition and line of work. Sometimes it would take days, sometimes it was a mere quick day out that last few hours. His mom and his mother would sometimes engage in a nice small talk whenever Talia visited. All of his siblings conspired that they had secrets shared with each other and had a secret girl’s night out no one knows about.

Damian didn’t want to dwell on that. He was happy and content with the life he led on now. Even though this wasn’t the initial output he had wished, he was still very much happy to receive love from two amazing women he had privilege to call Mom and Mother, respectively.

[theodorecanaryhood]

I'm running low on ideas!! Please help!!

Here's a headcanon! Hope you like 👍

Jason Todd dating a YouTuber. I've taken inspiration from some of my favourite YouTube channels!

Jason met you at a podcast event

You were one of the girls being interviewed, Jason was just there as security

He does that on the side sometimes when he needs a break from the fam!

He was intrigued with you, you were quite straight faced even when coming out with a joke

You had dry humour

You were sarcastic

He started watching your channel, video after video

He subscribed of course

He met you again at another podcast

This time, he asked you out

After a few months of dating, and Jason quoting your videos all the time, he took yiu to meet the batfam

Damian recognised you straight away

'It's you, YouTube, you're y/YT/n'

Damian claimed to be your biggest fan

'You watch YouTube?' Jason questioned curiously

'Yes, what's your point Todd?' Damian asked

Jason tagged along to watch you film a video

'This fool, put a whole cereal bar in a bowl of milk. How'd they work?' You said, Jason cracking up in the background

'Pay no attention to the laughing man in the background'

Since you released the video, all the comments were asking if that was Jason Todd, THE Jason Todd

You confirmed a few videos later that you two were dating

You then did a separate channel for you and Jason

Mostly life hacks, DIY, cooking and baking...yes Jason bakes. Who knew?

Of course Damian wanted to be on your channel too

Dick even did some acrobatic tutorials for your second channel

Your fan base actually got bigger with the second channel

Jason was so happy to be with you

You were happy to be with him

Because of your dry humour and sarcasm and Jason's dark humour, the comedy content was up

Everyone fangirled when Dick joined the team

You helped Tim set up a YouTube channel for technology stuff

You helped Damian with a fitness and diet channel

Dick did a acrobatics and gymnastics channel

You had Alfred on a few times to help with the baking and cooking

Jason did a few videos about the history of the Wayne family...missing out the Bat parts

Everyone was in their element

Jason and you did a video one day, which ended with Jason proposing to you

Then you vlogged after you...of course said yes

Yup, God bless YouTube

[alexiessan]

Senses - Chapter One - Soulmate AU

AO3

Here - Next

Master List

Happy birthday to me! As a gift from me to you, here is the first chapter of my new story! It's more mature than the other one, so be sure to be careful before you start reading.

This work was inspired by Sense8. The soulbond works the same way as in the TV Show. I've tried to explain it as best as I could in chapter 2, but I don't know if I succeeded. If you've watched it, you'll have no issue. If you haven't, it's a good TV show but it's not for everyone. If you're under 18, I don't recommend you watch it as there are violence and graphic sexual content in it.

In this story though, there is no graphic sexual content. It's implied, just like in Never Alone. But there are graphic depiction of violence and blood at some point, I'll warn you in the notes at the beginning of the chapter of course.

TW: Marinette has a bit of a panic attack in here, but it's really short!

Summary: Marinette never thought that she would be among the 0.1% of the population to have a soulmate, and yet, here she was.She wasn't ready for her life to change drastically because of it.

The first time Damian heard about soulmates was when he was fourteen-year-old. His mother never mentioned it when he was a child and neither did his father nor any of his brothers when he came to live in Gotham when he was ten.

The reason he never heard of it was simple: only 0.1% of the population had a soulmate. Which meant that the chance of him having one were close to none.

While soulmates were common knowledge, it wasn’t particularly talked about because of the rarity of it. People weren’t jealous of the very few who got one, but there was a curiosity about this topic.

So, when Damian first saw a girl in the dining room while he and his family were having dinner, he was more than surprised. No one should be able to enter the Manor unnoticed.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?!” he asked, or rather, demanded in a cold tone.

The girl jumped as if she hadn’t noticed him at all. She turned around, her eyes landing on him and she squealed, letting the sketchbook and pen that were in her hands fall on the floor.

“What- Who are you?! And how did you get in here?”

“I’m the one asking the questions.”

His family looked at him before looking around. Dick left his seat to approach him.

“Who are you talking to?” he asked softly, as if afraid to startle him.

It made Damian frown. He didn’t need his oldest brother to treat him like he was going to break down if he were to talk louder than that.

“I’m talking to this girl who somehow broke into our house.”

The girl scoffed. “Excuse me, but it’s the other way around. You’re in my house.”

The youngest Wayne stood up, hitting his fist on the table.

“Stop with this nonsense. How could I be at your house when you’re clearly in mine?”

There was a soft gasp coming from behind him and Alfred came behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down.

“I think I know what is going on, Master Damian. And there is no need to worry.”

“No need to worry,” the pre-teen exclaimed, turning around to face the man. “A girl just broke into our home and you’re saying there is nothing to worry about?”

“Indeed. Because there is no one here.”

He went to argue, to tell them that there was obviously a girl around his age right in front of them, that he wasn’t going crazy. But when he turned around, the girl was no longer here.

“What- where did she go?”

“Master Damian, you were the only one seeing her.”

Damian scowled as he faced Alfred again. “How is that possible?” he looked at his brothers and his father who were looking at him in worry. “I’m not going insane!” he defended.

“No one said you were,” answered Dick, but there was an edge in his voice that said otherwise.

“You didn’t but you still think there’s something wrong with me.”

“Well, you did see someone no one else saw,” started Jason.

Tim remained silent, as did his father, probably trying to understand what was going on.

“But Master Damian is not going insane,” Alfred stated, still as calm as ever. “He just met his soulmate.”

There were several gasps around the table, and the look of worry disappeared from the members of his family’s faces, to be replaced by a look of understanding.

“What are you talking about exactly,” he asked, feeling calmer now that there was an explanation about what just happened, even if he didn’t fully understand it yet.

His father cleared his throat. “I’m not surprised you didn’t hear about soulmates until now. Talia probably never saw the use to, and I didn’t think about bringing it up.”

The middle-aged man took a bite of his meal, swallowing before continuing.

“It’s not common, but some people do have a soulmate out there. I believe it’s only 0.1% of the population, if not less.”

He fell silent, disregarding his meal as he contemplated how to explain this particular topic to his son. Never did he think that he would meet someone with a soulmate. Because, yes, it was that rare. Never would he have thought that his own son would be one of the people having a soulmate.

But it was a good thing, Bruce thought. His son, who had so many difficulties trusting others and befriending people, was blessed with someone who he could trust with his life.

He knew it wouldn’t be that easy. That Damian would scoff at the idea. That he would probably be rude to the girl that was assigned as his soulmate when he will see her again. That it would probably take years for him to give his soulmate his trust.

But she would be the one he would trust the most, one day.

“When you have a soulmate, someone that was decided to be your perfect partner by the fates, they appear to you from time to time. Either you’ll see them where you are, or you’ll appear at their location. They’re not really there, but you’ll sense them all the same. You can touch them, interact with them, but you can’t have any interaction with their environment.”

He sighed, feeling that his explanation was not helping at all.

“There are, sometimes, body switches. You don’t always control them, especially in the beginning, but you can learn to. The… uh… ‘apparitions’, let’s call them that, will be random too until you learn how to control it.”

Bruce massaged his temples, trying to remember what he knew of soulmates.

“Oh,” he began again, “if your soulmate speaks another language, it will be automatically translated to the one you speak.”

He finally looked at his son in the eyes, seeing him frown. “Basically, your soulmate is the other half of your soul. Your one true partner, the one who will never betray you. Congratulations, Damian.”

His other sons smiled at their younger brother, taking their turn to congratulate him, but the pre-teen only frowned.

“What’s wrong?” asked Bruce, even though he knew exactly what his son was thinking.

Damian scoffed. “I don’t believe in that. Who can decide who to trust but me?”

Bruce sighed, crossing his arms. “I’m not saying that you have to trust that girl immediately. You are soulmates, yes, but it works like every other relationship. With work and efforts to get to know each other. I know your trust has to be earned. Well, so be it. Just know that, as your soulmate, whether you like it or not, that girl is here to stay.” Bruce smiled. “She was chosen for you.”

Damian scowled, and Bruce let out a laugh. “We’ll see where it goes. Don’t think too much about it.”

Bruce was about to go back to eating when Damian finally spoke up.

“If she appears at random times without any of us having control of it, my identity will be compromised.”

Bruce froze, as did his other sons.

He had thought of that, of course. There was no hiding something that big to a soulmate. And while he didn’t like the idea to trust someone he didn’t know with his son’s identity — and his own and his other sons’ too — he had to believe that the person assigned as his son’s soulmate could be trusted.

After all, not a lot of people could be his son’s soulmate.

“It will. And we’ll have to bear with that. Since it’s your soulmate, it means that she is someone you can trust, even if you take a long time to trust her because of your issues.”

He sighed.

“I don’t like that our identities will be compromised, but we can’t do anything about it.”

“I can always threaten her.”

Jason laughed. “That’s a very bad way to start any sort of relationship, brat.”

They all returned to their dinner silently, all worried about their identity.

Especially since there was nothing there would be able to do about it.

Marinette was having trouble breathing. Her vision was turning black the more it lasted.

She was having a panic attack, she realized, like an afterthought.

She tried touching things around her. She found the sketchbook and the pen that had fallen on the floor earlier. She felt a piece of paper too — one of Adrien’s pictures she has been getting rid of, she realized — and the wood of the floor.

But it was Tikki’s voice that made her calm down.

“Marinette, you’re okay. I’m here and you’re in your room. Nothing can hurt you here. Listen to my voice, alright? Breathe in… Hold it… Breathe out.”

She listened carefully to the kwami’s instructions and after awfully long minutes, she managed to calm down enough to breathe.

“What happened,” the little god finally asked, her voice soothing to Marinette.

The dark-haired girl took a deep breath before looking around, making sure that the boy from earlier was truly gone.

He was there, just like that, coming out of nowhere, and gone the next moment.

Marinette wasn’t stupid. She knew what it meant. She had heard about soulmates from Tikki.

She just didn’t think that she would be one of those people with one. It felt so surreal.

“There was a boy here just five minutes ago.”

Tikki frowned.

“But there was no one…” she said before her eyes widened. “Oh! You’ve got your first contact with your soulmate! Marinette!” she exclaimed, flying in circles as she expressed her joy. “That’s amazing! You have a soulmate.”

Marinette said nothing, frowning as she looked around in her room.

The photos of Adrien that have been hanging on her walls were now on the ground sorted in a pile, waiting to be thrown out.

Marinette fell in love with Adrien almost a year ago, when he gave her his umbrella.

She had changed so much after that, obsessing over him like she has never obsessed over anything before.

She had had photos of him on her walls. His schedule too.

And yet, she hadn’t seen anything wrong with it at the time.

It was only when she had this weird double date with Luka, Adrien, and Kagami, after dragging Luka in this, did she realize.

Her love — no, her obsession — for Adrien wasn’t healthy. She was becoming a stalker and trying to sabotage other people for her own gain.

She was so focused on Adrien that everything else came in second place.

She didn’t like who she was becoming. Marinette didn’t like herself anymore.

And wasn’t it important to love oneself? Or to at least, to have some self-respect?

But Marinette didn’t like nor did she respect herself when she was in love with Adrien.

So she had to move on for her own sake if not for other’s.

She had taken down his schedule first. Then, it was the pictures, little by little.

There was so much of them that it took her a few days to take them down completely. School, homework, and her Ladybug’s duties left her with little time for anything else.

It was one in the morning right now, on the weekend that she finally took down the last of the pictures. She wasn’t tired yet so she had decided to sketch a little.

And then, the boy appeared.

Marinette was only now trying to move on from Adrien. From a frankly unhealthy crush — which made her wonder why her friends were encouraging it in the first place — and it was difficult, but she had to do it, to find herself again.

And somehow, the fates decided that it was a good time for her to introduce her to her soulmate.

No. Marinette couldn’t do this.

What if she became obsessed once again? What if she was actually insane and would obsess over anyone she would feel attracted to?

She wasn’t ready for a soulmate.

Deciding that it wouldn’t do any good to keep all that to herself, she told Tikki everything she was thinking.

The Kwami looked at her with this smile that reminded her so much of her mother.

“Oh, Marinette,” she sighed softly. “You’re not insane. Don’t be afraid of love because your first experience wasn’t a good one.”

“It was unhealthy, Tikki,” the blue-eyed girl interrupted.

“It was. But it’s also my fault. I didn’t tell you it was, and you were only thirteen when you fell in love with Adrien. You didn’t recognize an unhealthy behavior yet. I should have told you. But you realized that you didn’t like who you were becoming and decided to change. It’s a good thing. You’re admitting your errors and you’re taking your responsibilities to try and correct them.”

She flew to Marinette’s cheek and give her a little hug.

“And I’m proud of you for that,” the little kwami said. “It was the first time you fell in love. You got a bit excited. To the point of obsession, and obsession is never a good thing. Never. But you’re moving on from that. Now that you know it’s wrong, you won’t do it anymore, I know it.”

The fashion designer nodded, reassured by her friend’s words.

“I…” she hesitated but continued when Tikki nodded at her. “I still don’t want a soulmate… I mean… In theory, it’s amazing. My other half… The one I will trust more than anyone else in the world… But I don’t want to be forced to love them.”

Tikki laughed. “You won’t. The bond is just introducing you and, yeah, it will force you to spend time together with the apparitions and the switches, but it’s just saying: ‘Look! Here is the perfect person for you. They’re right here! Now, do what you want with this knowledge.’ You will love them because you want to, not because the bond is forcing you.”

The designer looked away, still skeptical.

Tikki smiled. “I understand your skepticism. But you’ll see for yourself.” she kissed her holder’s cheek. “Just keep an open mind, okay?”

“Alright.” Marinette sighed, getting up and gathering Adrien’s pictures. “Okay. Time to move on,” she said determinedly.

And she threw the last pictures in the trash.

Next

Tag List: 

@justafanwarrior​ @animegirlweeb​

[cdelphiki]

15 Bruce and Damian :)

“Damian, what are you doing?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow at his son, who had his ear pressed up against the door to the library.  

It was actually rather amusing.  Something he would have never expected to see Damian do. Dick or Jason when they were children, for sure.  Tim, possibly.  Not Damian.

He never did childlike things like this.

“Shhh,” Damian hissed, “They’ll hear us.”

Bruce’s lip quirked as he whispered, “Who are they and why are we spying on them?”

“Tim and Jason,” Damian reported, as if this were a mission. The scowl on his face told Bruce he was highly annoyed by his brothers’ existing together in a room.

He had to admit, he was more than a little surprised his two middle sons were together, too. “Jason’s here?”

“Yes, and he’s with Tim and I want to know what they’re doing.”

There was that name again.  Those names.  Bruce idly wondered if Damian even realized he had been using first names more often, recently.  “Why?” he asked, leaning against the wall next to the door, resisting the urge to smile fondly at his 11-year-old.

Damian jutted out his bottom lip and said, “Because they said I couldn’t join them.”

“They did?”

“Yes.”

“Did they say what they were doing?”

Now Damian’s scowl deepened, as if he were truly offended and reported, “’Top secret brother things.’”

That… was enough to make Bruce snort.  Very briefly.  He coughed, to try to cover it up.  Because damn, Damian was precious.  Absolutely adorable.

It was so good to see this side of him.  

He was about to tell Damian to leave them alone, and say maybe he could play with Bruce, instead, when the door to the library swung open to reveal the imposing figure of Jason, towering over Damian.  “Brat, I swear to God- Oh, hey Bruce.”

“Jason,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. Jason’s faux threatening demeanor only added to the hilarity that was this entire situation.

“We were just playing with the demonbrat,” Jason said, offering a faint smile as he put a hand on Damian’s forehead, preventing him from getting into the room.

“I see.” 

“You were not!” Damian screeched, batting away Jason’s hand, “You kicked me out of the library!  Besides, I would not play with the likes of you. Street trash like you is not worth my time.”

“Uh huh,” Jason said, grinning fully at Bruce now, “That’s why you’re spying on us.”

“I was not.”

“Damian,” Tim shouted from further inside the room, “Go away.  Go bother someone else.”

Jason flicked Damian on the ear, then said, “Bruce is here, Timbers.”

Over Damian’s growl, Tim shouted, “Oh.  Hey Bruce.  Tell Damian to leave us alone.”

“Why are you two giving your little brother a hard time?”

Tim grinned at Bruce when he stuck his head in, then laughed at how Damian was trying to get at Jason, who was holding him off without much effort.  Damian was, clearly, not actually trying to fight.  If he had been, it would have been a completely different scene.  

“It’s fun,” Tim said.

Damian dropped his hands and turned his scowl onto Bruce, as he shouted, “We are not brothers!”

“He’s really easy to trigger,” Jason offered, flicking Damian’s ear agin.

And the way Damian absolutely screamed, “I am not!” made Bruce bite his lip.  Just to keep from laughing.  

These kids.  

It was great, seeing them act like actual brothers.  

“Don’t press too many buttons,” Bruce said, as he ruffled Damian’s hair, “Alfred is tired of patching knife holes in the walls.”

“Father!”

Jason walked back into the room, leaving the two of them in the hall again, and Bruce was pretty sure he said, “We got Dad’s blessing, Tim.” But he wasn’t going to push it and ask.  

Instead, he just smiled fondly and started to make his way down the hall, content to let the boys work it out.  

When Damian growled, he heard Jason shout, “Fine. If you really want to play Mario Kart that bad, get in here.”

[bvckysmanbun]

Love Me Right

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader

Happy early Valentine’s Day! If you want to start being tagged, please let me know! Hope you enjoy! Comments highly appreciated! (This was much longer than I thought I’d make it!)

Masterlist

Tag(s): @dammianwayne

Warnings: fluffy smut (is that a thing here), language

It was something about coming home from galas with Dick Grayson that became…a routine. No, that wasn’t the best word for it. There is no right word on how to describe this feeling, this action. The closest words that come to mind are intimacy, passion, desire, love. If there were words stronger than those, put those words in the slots.

It’d start off with the both of you getting ready for the gala. You’d gaze at yourself in the vanity mirror that Dick built for you in the bedroom. Freshly cleaned brushes were now dirty; pores no longer visible to the human eye. Faux lashes were added onto yours to add length and a pop to blended eyeshadow. Smoky, with a hint of blue. Cheek bones glazed to be as blinding as the diamond necklace around your neck and the bracelet around your wrist. You smiled and grabbed the setting spray, closing your eyes as you let the liquid hit all over your masterpiece.

“Are you…woah,” Dick said dumbstruck from the door way. You smiled at him, looking at him through the mirror as you put on your earrings.

“I’m guessing that you means you like it?” you laughed, standing up and grabbing the dress from the closet. “But Richard, hun, let me finish,” you giggled, stopping in front of him. God, he looked so…gorgeous. You placed your hand on his shoulder, running it down to his blue bowtie, tugging on it softly. His hand captured your wrist, slowly sliding his fingers to hold yours, bringing your knuckles for him to kiss. Another giggle escaped your lips as shooed him out.

“I’ve seen you naked, you know this right?” he laughed as you continued to push him out, closing the door once he was out of the frame’s way, only your head peeking out.

“I know, but this outfit is a little different than the past galas, my dear,” you grinned, pursing your lips out for him to peck while wiggling your eyebrows up and down. He laughed and leaned in to seize your lips with his. Your eyes closed in content, but you pulled away and fluttered your eyes open, your smile turning so wide up that your cheeks ached. “And this is why I put lipstick last when I’m around you,” you remarked, closing the door as you closed the door on a laughing Dick.

The dress was black, and it complimented you perfectly. Compared to all the other past gala dresses, the dress was heading toward divergence. It was a one piece, but from under your breasts to the to the top of your belly was a lace see-through corset instilled in the dress. It hugged you perfectly, the rest of the dress following down to the train. Your right leg was revealed through a mid-thigh slit. Dick loved a little bit of leg.

You grabbed your handbag, placed your shoes on and took a deep breath before opening the door and switching the lights off. You closed the door behind you, twirling around gradually as not to trip or slip in your shoes. Before your eyes could even lock with Dick’s, you heard a soft gasp escape his lips. You blushed as a stupid, lopsided, smug smile made its way on his face and his hand was extended out for you to grab.

“You,” he started, pulling you to his chest with a chaste kiss placed on your lips, “literally take my breath away.” Your face reddened, but it was barely visible; bless foundation and concealer. He stepped away from you, holding your hand up so that you were extended away from him; your joined hands the only physical bond, and he spun you around, your leg revealing itself more from the air pushing past the slit. He whistled and brought you back in. You laughed.

“Oh, I can’t wait for everyone to see my girlfriend,” he whispered, leaning down to your lips, blue eyes no longer visible. You leaned in, not letting your lips capture his; no, you watched as his lips parted slightly and whispered into them.

“Oh, I can’t wait for you to see your girlfriend… after the gala, with nothing except the little black lace panties,” you let out, pecking his lips and completely pulling away. His eyes opened, the blue colored darkened with lust. His eyes flickered from your face to your dress, from your face to the slit that revealed your leg. His eyes traveled back up to your face and honestly, if you didn’t have to attend the gala, only God knew that Dick would have ripped the dress off and taken you back to the bedroom.

He coughed, pretending that there was not an erection growing against his dress pants. He gained his composure and gave you a breathtaking smile before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Ready?” he whispered, leaning in to your lips, capturing them before you could respond. You let out a hum, pulling away, a content grin on your face. He grinned back, holding out his elbow for you to grab onto to make your way to the car.

“Wait, can you tie the corset for me?”

It’d progress to little tender touches and kisses in the car. There would always be a bouquet of flowers; roses, sunflowers, mixed; it never mattered what kind, they would always be waiting in your seat before you left a gala. Your hands would hold the bouquet over Dick’s hand on your lap.

Then, it’d be Dick escorting you in, making sure everyone knew that you were his. Making sure you were comfortable, making sure nothing malfunctioned because nobody needed to see his girl that way except for him.

As you lifted your glass of champagne to your lips, you felt a familiar pair of eyes on you. You arched your eyebrow, bringing the glass back down to the front of your torso and looked over at Drake Courtney. He was one of Bruce’s younger associate who never accepted that you were in a relationship with Dick.

He waved shyly at you and you returned a shy smile as you began moving through the crowd. One hand made its way to the breast piece of the dress, stealthily pressing your dress into you so it wouldn’t slip off. You forgot the damn corset needed to be tightened every so often. You made your way to Dick, quickening your pace. As you reached the little circle he was in, you smiled widely.

“Hello gentlemen,” you greeted, stepping closer to Dick, his arm automatically wrapping around your waist. They all greeted back. Jason gave you a “please kill me” look and Damian copied the look. Tim honestly looked like he could just pass out. Sleep would be a perfect way to escape.

One of the men held out their hand towards you as to greet you and you quickly pressed your hand closer to your dress, glancing at Dick. He caught your look and took the glass from your hand, allowing you shake the man’s hand with a smile.

“Please excuse us. We’ll be right back,” Dick smiled at them, his hand moving to the small of your back. You both made your way to a secluded corridor. You turned around, Dick’s hands moving to the ribbons, beginning to loosen them and redo them. You let out a sigh as dress felt snug again.

“Thank you,” you whispered, turning around, placing a chaste on his lips. He returned the action before heading back to the rest of night, your hand intertwined in his.

The ending towards gala nights would start with you both leaving, goodbyes to Bruce, Alfred and the boys. The boys would always hug you, Bruce kissing your cheek and Alfred always hugging you, always mentioning that you need to visit the manor more often, with or without Dick.

The car ride would involve more touches. A stroke on your left thigh by Dick’s right hand. Your left hand stroking Dick’s right thigh; always inching to his inner thigh. Squeezing each others thighs as you got closer to the goal, never actually reaching it. It was a game of cat and mouse that your hands played on each other. 

Once in the apartment, Dick pulls you close and whispers, “let me help you take it off.” He waited for your approval; a soft, passionate kiss.

He always starts with the lashes, carefully pulling them off for you, always making sure he never accidentally plucked a real lash out. He never understood why you found it satisfying to pull them off until one time you offered him to do it; since then, it’s always be his favorite thing to do, aside from undressing you. A smile always found its way onto his face when you sighed in content. He’d leave the lashes on the coffee table, knowing you’d get them in the morning.

Then, he’d pick you in his arms, caring you in the bathroom. He never let you sit on the sink with whatever dress you had on, he didn’t want you to ruin them. He set you back down on your bare feet; your shoes were gone the moment you entered the apartment building. He turned you around, moving all your hair to one side and kissed your neck down to your shoulder as he began to untie the corset’s ribbons. The dress slowly loosened until you no longer felt the material against your bare breasts. He turns you back around, admiring your body. Your hands make their way to his neck, stopping as he took a hold of your wrists and putting them back to your sides.

“Not yet,” he says softly, picking you up gently and placing you on the sink’s counter. You shiver at the cold touch against your butt. Dick leaned in, kissing your shoulder again, trailing down to your chest as he reached down to grab the makeup wipes from under the sink and kissed his way back up.

Dick was one who loved to you in all your natural beauty. Although he loved seeing you without anything one, not even an ounce of makeup, he’d never say anything about you wearing makeup. That was your choice. You were beautiful to him no matter what. He pulled out a wipe and gently began cleaning your face. Your birth marks became visible and the little red in your skin tone showed itself to him. He smiled down at you as you smiled back. A man who makes you feel comfortable in your own skin is a man that really is a man.

It was a new form of intimacy.

As soon as he’s done, your hands go to his shoulders, helping him shrug off the jacket. The moment it hits the ground, your hands make their way to the nape of his neck and then to the front, untying the bowtie and letting it join the jacket. Unbuttoning his shirt, he’d catch your lips, his hands making their way to your thighs. The pads of his fingertips always brush soft circles before wrapping themselves around you, lifting to your legs to his waist. Your arms make their way to his neck, deepening the kiss as sign to move this to the bedroom. His hands slip to your behind, pressing your core to the area just above his as he walks to the bedroom, never breaking the kiss.

Gently he throws you onto the bed, breaking the lip to lip connect, making his way to your neck, your shoulder, moving over your breasts (he likes to save them for later), trailing warm, open mouth kisses down your stomach. You begin to feel the heat buildup, withering under his mouth. He smiles against your stomach and moves to your thighs, leaving feather-light kisses.

“Richard,” you moan out quietly. His eyes look up at you, his kisses getting closer to your core. “Please,” you softly plead. He smiles into your thigh, making his way back to where your panties rest on your skin.

“One more time,” he says, softly biting on the skin of your hip.

“Please, Dick!” you gasp out, hands clenching the sheets. “Please!” Dick takes the waist of the panties in his teeth, pulling them down to your mid thighs and releasing them as his fingers hook the soaked center, pulling them down the rest of the length. One hand unclenches the sheets, making its way to your breast, tugging at the nipple. Dick’s kisses on your inner thighs, getting closer to the core. You knew what was about it happen; the teasing.

His thumb softly strokes your slick slit, your eyes clenching as your hand makes it back to the sheet. The sound of a wet pussy echoes in your ears as Dick’s thumb presses in deeper against your slick slit. “Dick, please, don’t tease me,” you cry out, his finger replacing his thumb, slowly dipping into your entrance, the teasing making the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Aw, babygirl. Am I making you this wet?” he whispered, pressing a kiss right above the hidden hood, his finger beginning to dip in and out. You furrow your eyebrows, breath starting to shallow, turning into pants. “Hmm?” He adds another finger, the pace barely picking up.

“Yes,” you cry out. He smiles against the skin above your clit, slowly kissing his way until your clit was in his mouth. He moved his tongue in circles on your clit, your body arching off the bed. “Dick!” you cry out. He hasn’t even full started and he has you withering and crying out his name.

He removes his fingers so that his mouth can move down, slowly licks through your folds. Your hand reaches down to grip his hair. He groans against your pussy, sending vibrations into you and another round of cries escapes your mouth. His licks pick up the pace, his eyes watching your body to see what made you tick. It was when he completely devours you, taking you completely in his mouth, thumb rubbing your clit and one finger in your entrance, enough room for his tongue to rapidly flick up and down around your entrance and his finger that you lose yourself. Your fingers tighten around his hair, pulling him as your legs shakes and your body arches off the bed so much that your back no longer touches the bed. The dams have broken as you practically scream out, grinding your pussy against his mouth, riding out the high.

You never lasted long when Dick was hungry.

Dick kisses his way back up, turning his attention to your left breast, capturing it in his mouth. The right one was being kneaded by his hand. He sucked softly, eventually taking it carefully between his teeth and tugging, making you scream out his name again. It was one of the only few words you knew how to say in that state… euphoria. He gave the same attention to your other breast before making his way to your mouth, finally kissing you, devouring the pants escaping your mouth.

As you taste yourself on him, you hum, reaching down to his pants, unbuckling, unbuttoning and unzipping before you slip your hand under his briefs, gently tugging at his erection. He groans into your mouth. You pull away, kissing down his neck, pushing against his shoulder so that he would lay flat and that you’d be able to climb onto him. You lower yourself, reaching behind to that glorious ass and pulling both his pants and briefs down; his erection springing out straight. You grinned at him.

“Mm, baby, am I doing this to you?” you whisper, kissing down his abs, your hand starting a gently stroke up and down his cock. He bucked his hips and a groan escapes his lips. Pre-cum glistens and you licked your lips, looking at him at as he watches you with dark eyes. You bring his head into your mouth, his head thrown back as his hand makes it way to your hair. You swirl your tongue around his head before releasing it and kissing down his shaft. If he could tease, so could you.

“Babygirl, please,” he groans out his plead. This makes you grin deviously at him.

You take his head back into your mouth and start sucking, slowly bobbing your head up and down while your hand stroked what was not yet in your mouth. He softly tugs your hair, pushing your head down. “I know you can handle more.”

His cock starts hitting the back of your throat, you gagged, but kept going. A content hum comes from him. Your head bobs faster, your hand strokes him a little harsher and you can hear his groans getting louder, his pants getting quicker as he pulls you away and flips you so you’re underneath him. You look up at his face, cupping his face in your hands and pulling him for a kiss.

“I love you,” you both whisper to each other with a smile. You spread your legs for him, giving him space and he strokes himself, softly teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. You wither underneath him.

“Dick, please just fuck me,” you gasp out. He places one last kiss as he slowly plunges his length into you. His forearms are either side of your head to hold himself close to you. He starts to slowly to pull himself out and plunge back in. Your legs are placed so that your knees are on either side of his waist, your feet flat on the bed. Your hands make their way to his ass, gently digging your nails in and he lets out a groan, picking up the pace. You start to moan out, dragging your nails from his ass to his mid-back, back and forth. This made Dick groan heavily, his pace speeding up and your walls tightening around him.

Dick starts slamming him into you, your walls clenching around him every slam. “Fuck, Dick,” you cry out, wrapping your legs around his waist to get a better angle and he hits the right spot. His shallow pants hide your hair as he lowers his face to your ear. You close your eyes, arching your back to meet his thrusts. He reached the spot, your eyes closed and your mouth opens, letting out soundless cries. Bucking your hips into his every time his body met yours, you dig your nails back into his ass, his thrusts becoming sloppy. Your walls clench against him one last time and there’s a white-hot sensation through your body as you come undone. You gasp, feeling Dick somehow speed up even more, slamming himself once again into you, the sound of skin on skin never sounding so satisfying to you.

He gasps in your ear, you moan at the feel of his release in you. He lays himself on you, careful not to crush you and presses a kiss to your lips. “I love you, Y/n,” he murmurs, pulling away and flipping you over. His cock leaves your insides and you gasp softly at the sensation of him against you. You reach up and told cup his face as he throws the comforter over the both of you.

“I love you, Richard.”

[chronicbatfictioner]

A Real Boy - Chapter 9

By breakfast, Bruce was not there. Dick had gone back to the city with Barbara, and Alfred said that Bruce has "some business to attend to in the city, Sir,"

Tim figured that he was just getting the hell out of dodge to prevent the awkward discomfort between he and Tim. But then again, he'd woken up at 9, and was about to let Alfred know that he wouldn't be needing breakfast when Jason walked in with a croissant in his mouth and an announcement that his "holy massive breakfast, Tim!" was ready.

"I wasn't about to be such a hassle, Alfred," he told Alfred. The old butler/daimon scoffed.

"No such thing, Master Tim. You are as much part of the household as Master Dick is." he said. Tim could swear that Alfred's eyes had twinkled when he told Jason, who was about to protest, "and you as much as a part of the household as Zitka, Master Jason. Albeit with less apples and more bacon."

"Glad to know you don't intend to provide only apples for me, Alfred, thank you." Jason declared, grinning charmingly as Alfred placed another plate of bacon and toast in front of Jason. Tim rolled his eyes. Absolutely unimpressed and partially wondering if Jason had been a common human, he would be as obnoxious. Unfortunately, Jason took that exact time to look at Tim and caught his eye-roll. "Hey, if you rich boy didn't get the lesson on how to be courteous, I can teach you some." he quipped.

"Oh, I did get that lesson, alright. I just skipped on the part where you blatantly kissed someone's feet to get more bacon." Tim retorted.

"Bacon is food of the gods, Timothy. If feet-kissing is all that is needed to get them, that I shall do." Jason replied haughtily. "Some had sold their souls for it."

"You've just made that one up," Tim cautiously remarked. Jason's deadpan face was not helping in deciding whether his remark had been a flat-out lie or truth. The only relief was Alfred, slightly smirking behind him.

Or maybe not. Alfred was, after all, an ancient being, too.

Tim wondered if it was a bad idea to bring two ancient, humanoid beings, under one roof.

The week passed with not much of a... drama, per sé. Sure, there were some strange creatures that appeared somewhere Downtown, suddenly deciding that they wanted to reside in Gotham and just have to create some ruckus to attract attention for themselves. Bruce and whatever squad he ran promptly vanquished such intentions and send those creatures back to where they had emanated from.

Some they had actually sent to Arkham Asylum, a containment place for the possessed. Supposedly, Arkham knew ways to un-possess them, exorcise the demons or whatever.

Operative word being 'whatever', because Tim knew that there were many who had left Arkham and still bearing the evilness they had possessed when they were thrown in.

Like Victor Szazs.

Szazs, once upon a time an heir of a major business - kind of like Tim - had lost his family business and fortune due to his own arrogance and gambling. Afterward, something snapped in him and he had started murdering people, claiming that each of the cut he'd made on his body to represent each kill would make him live longer.

"Uh, no." Jason actually cringed as he came up behind Tim and read Szazs' statement. Bruce had sent the case file to Tim, to see if he could figure out Szazs' possible next victim. "Demons would never make such a promise. If he said one had, he's lying or being lied-to."

Tim sighed. "Imagine how convenient our lives would be if ancients like you or Alfred or Zitka or other familiars are legally allowed to testify in court..." he groused.

Jason chuckled. "Yeeeah, some of us aren't quite so benevolent, either. We could lie and have no consequences of our lies. We don't subscribe to your deities, you know." he remarked. "shit, some of us were even your deities at some point in time."

Tim turned and glared at Jason contemplatively. "Would a familiar actually lead the magi to... like, do evil things?"

"No, at least not if they'd come to where I came from, right? More likely it's the magi who'd make his familiar do evil. The worst we could do is evil by silence." Jason replied. He thought for a moment, and then added, "or omission."

"Mmhmmm..." Tim hummed. "I understand omission. Your job is to protect me, after all." Jason placed his hand flat on Tim's head. "Right?" Tim pressed.

"Absolutely."

"I'd rather you don't omit any information for me, though, even if it could hurt me. I need all information before I can figure out what steps to take to handle something." Tim prompted.

"Sure," Jason replied. "it's not like you'll not jump from a ledge if I say it could kill you if you wanted to save somebody below, is it?"

"Absolutely," Tim echoed, grinning. "But I'll know how to make myself not dead if you could tell me things like, how far the distance is below, between ledges, how long of a rope I'd need... you know, things like that."

Jason sighed. "I'm a familiar, Tim, not an engineer." he said. "What I can and will do if you ever leap off a ledge is catch you and fly you out of there to safety. I cannot, however, go in advance and let you know of the dangers up ahead or stuff like that."

"Okay, that sounds good to me." Tim mused.

"I'd rather you don't put yourself in such a predicament, though, but I reckon I'll sound like a hypocrite." Jason added.

Tim looked at him curiously. "So allying myself with Bruce and Dick and Barbara and whatever crew they might have is and will be bringing danger to me. Why did you do it, anyway?" he asked.

"Okay, three reasons: First and foremost, you're untrained. It'll be more dangerous if you roam around on your own. They can train you, at least physically." Jason pointed out. "Magickally, that'll be my part. But stealth isn't exactly my forté, as you can probably tell..." Tim rolled his eyes, flashing back to the time when Jason first appeared. Other familiars would have slipped in quietly - a cat, a bird, anything. Even Zitka could slip in quietly and stealthily, probably, in spite of being an elephant. Jason just slammed into Tim's bedroom in all of his smokey glory.

"The next one: they are a formidable set of allies. Your goals align with theirs, which is to prevent the misuse of magick by... well, people like him--" Jason tapped on the laptop screen on Szazs' face. "and maybe one day have the natural creatures-- the ones called 'supernatural' by them layfolks, return and restore balance in the universe once again."

Jason was quiet for a good long while, that Tim had to turn again and looked at him. "What's the third?"

His eyes were a little blank, as if he was thinking of something else and was miles away from the question. So Tim snapped his fingers in front of Jason's face, only to have the latter caught his hand. "Don't. I heard you. The third is that they-- Bruce Wayne, that is; has a book that I haven't found yet. In it, there are many knowledge that even the All Caste didn't have in writing. They only have snippets of the knowledge that's generally useless, and if I can complete the snippets, it'll bring a massive change to the balance of power in the universe."

"And that should benefit me, how?" Tim wanted to know.

Jason glared back at him, seemed ambivalent at first, but then answered, "it'll give you all you ever wanted, Tim. Anything and everything. Even the dead."

It took nearly a whole minute before Tim spoke again, after battling and sorting the thousands of questions in his head. "Explain."

Jason shifted uneasily, turning to face Tim. "Remember the Pinocchio story, the tale about him being carved from enchanted wood? Not the sugared-up children's tale about him being 'blessed' by a fairy and come to life?"

"Yes, I have original fairy tales at home." Tim replied a little snarkily, because he did. His parents never thought of the children's version of fairy tales and instead would always give him the spooky, banal ones. "You would know of the nightmares I've had..." he added.

"Yeah, well, it's my duty to let you know that some of them are more like the kids' tales than the spooky ones. But anyway! Pinocchio. He was actually literally enchanted; fictional adventure notwithstanding. Now, said spell had been used to bring to life a lot of things--"

"Oh my god... Pinocchio was an effigy!" Tim suddenly caught on.

"Yeah, that. But effigies were not the only ones brought to life. Still, the spell was lost and my... 'school', so to speak, has been investigating the whereabout of the book since time immemorial; and concluded that it was lost in the hand of an unnamed warlock." Jason continued.

"Given that there are barely a handful of warlocks nowadays, and Bruce came from a long line of warlocks, you assumed it would've been in his ancestor's possession." Tim concluded.

"Exactly. Now, in the hands of a warlock - even someone like Bruce Wayne, the book is useless. But that would not prevent it from being acquired by a magickal person. Now..." Jason exhaled slowly. "...I can't postulate. But from what have been happening in the past... since I got to you, I have fears that the book could be in the wrong hands."

"Hence your insistence to find it. Did you ask Alfred?"

"Daimons didn't have the same views as familiars, Tim, Alfred could probably tell me where something is if I know what it looks like. Like, I could probably ask him for first editions Arthur Conan Doyle books, and he'll be able to point it to me. But this... book - I only call it book based on the ancient All Caste description of 'tome'. It could be in pieces, it could be a carved rock or pots or vases or papyrus..." Jason elaborated. "Alfred wouldn't care nor have curiosity of the contents of it, even if he could read it and/or are interested in modern age's literature..."

Tim sighed dejectedly. "Okay, I'll pinpoint this guy Szazs' next victim - I think I'm beginning to see a pattern here. Barbara can cross-check it later. And then I'll help you in finding this book or what? --just so we can go home afterward."

"I can't tell you what it looks like, alright? A second pair of eyes is handy, but I still can't tell your or show you what it looks like. It's just... if you see it, you'll know it."

"Thanks for the vagueness. Good thing my brain is pattern-based. See? Now I think I've got like, three possible next victim and hopefully Bruce can mobilize some protection before... whatever insanity Szasz is trying to do can actually--" Tim grumbled as he clicked the 'send' button. His report and analysis will be sent to Barbara, who would be assigning whoever she deemed necessary to protect the three-to-five probable victims. "Okay, let's--" Tim abruptly stood up, groaning as his muscles protested at the sudden movement. He stretched his entire body gently, getting a good yawn for good measure, and looked at Jason. "Let's?"

Jason hesitated for a long time before he nodded. "Alright. Let's go roam this obnoxiously massive mansion. Maybe we'll be able to go home before dark."

As daylight started to fade, Tim - and Jason - had to admit that looking for a 'tome' that defies description; may not look like an actual book; and likelyhidden by magick; in a mansion that is as big as several city blocks; was "an exercise in insanity," - according to Dick - who had returned at three p.m. from his errands - even after Alfred, Dick, and Zitka lent their literal and metaphorical hands.

"Exercise in insanity, indeed. But there is a benefit: I now know which parts of the house that are in dire needs of deep cleansing." Alfred commented mournfully, after observing the cobwebs on Tim's head. "Do not shake your head, Master Tim. Allow me." he added, and then a small dustpan and brush appeared out of nowhere as he brushed the cobweb off Tim's head.

Tim barely managed just not to shudder. "I think we'll need a shower..." he lamented.

"Bathrooms at the ready in your respective bedrooms, young sirs. And Master Dick, kindly utilize the showers and not the bathtubs. Otherwise you shall clean it yourself." Alfred remarked, glaring at Dick who was a little worse for wear than Tim - thanks to his insistence on looking at literal nooks and crannies above their heads, on the ceilings and thereabout.

DIck grinned unrepentantly at Alfred, and then glared daggers at Jason - who remained pristine. "There are times in life I wish I was a familiar... or has the ability to be dust-proof."

Jason snickered back at him. "There are times I wish I were something else, but in this right here time, I'm just happy at being dust-free."

"You two still thinking of going home?" Dick asked.

"Yeah, I gotta. I have early classes tomorrow." Tim replied.

Dick nodded. "Okay... I'll go with you. We'll get to town before Bruce gets back so I can hitch a ride with him."

"Dude, no need. It's not that dark, yet..." Tim protested. But Dick just gave him a blank glare.

"...and the city isn't exactly like, a few dozen miles away. Anyway! I have to get myself some stuff, anyway. Just... pretend you're giving me a lift if your pride is not happy." Dick replied.

"Okay, fine..." Tim sighed. "But you're not driving my car."

Dick gave him a mock gasp. "Oh nooo... what would I do now that I'm not allowed to drive you millennial's hybrid car!" he mourned. Tim grinned. Dick's car was a sportscar that cost about four times Tim's. Probably as much in fuel, as well.

"I'm sure you'll find some ways to keep yourself entertained..." Tim retorted. "So, fifteen minutes?"

"Good for me." Dick nodded, getting up to get to his own showers. "Might want to make a note on what you'll need from downtown, Alfred!"

It took nearly all the way back to town, where the city lights started to illuminate the horizon, that Tim realized that the atmosphere has indeed changed. The roads were not dark, yet there seemed to be spots where the darkness were... less diluted.

"Yeah, most of those spirits are just hangin' out, but some are... not." Dick explained. "The main reason why we prefer to go in pairs of humans. No offense to familiars. Just..."

"I get it. They... I can't protect you if you concede to their ways. And those aren't the kind who'd use physical violence, per sé." Jason huffed. "Like, if you see a baby deer in the middle of the road, not moving. What are you going to do?-- kind of thing."

"Good people would stop." Tim stated.

"Good people traveling alone will then be theirs. Especially if they're magis." Dick intoned.

"Oh," Tim exhaled. "How come I've never seen them before?"

"You didn't have a familiar before. They're aiming for those who already have a familiar." Dick paused. "I have no clue what they'd do to the familiar, if the magi is... like, converted or something. But you know, just to be on the safe side, let's not try to find out, yeah?"

"Right," Tim mumbled a reply while trying to ignore the questions in his mind. He decided right there and then that he wanted to know, just so he could figure out how to not fall prey to whatever lurked on the road from Wayne Manor to Gotham. From the passenger's side, Jason sighed heavily.

"I'll look for why, who, what, or how. Right now, I think we better concentrate on Gothamites' legendary road rage, so we can get home in one piece."

[notstars-doors]

Bird Brains

read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588115/chapters/33712851

by: liv_andlet_die (me!! :3)

A series of drabbles containing some of the Robins brotherly antics. Read at your own risk.

__

Words: 919,  Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fandoms: Batman, Batman and Robin

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth

Additional Tags: Batfamily Feels, batfam, Robin, Brothers, batbros, Family Shenanigans, Swearing

“Long night, buddy?”

Tim groans, his head rising from the crook in his arm to see his big brother smiling down at him sympathetically. They’re in the kitchen at the manor, Tim having just poured his third coffee of the day. He was dozing off in his seat at the island before Dick had walked in, rousing him from his much-needed slumber.

“Yeah, no thanks to you. Where were you?” He grumbles, “Could’ve used some help last night.”

“Sorry, had my own problems over in Bludhaven. Typical invasion -slash- city takeover type shit.” Dick shrugs. “I’m here now, though.”

“Yeah, and what use is that?” Tim mutters in response.

He doesn’t do it quiet enough apparently, as it earns him a half hug/half noogie from his brother. It’s an action that promptly shoves his nose directly into the older man’s armpit.

“Ew, fuck off!” Tim tries to shove him away, but Dick has a tight grip and is far too amused.

He’s also far too chipper for this time of day.

“That’s what you get for being ungrateful, Timbo! I’m here now, and my presence alone should be a blessing.”

Eventually Dick releases him of his own volition, ruffling his hair for good measure as he walks over to the fridge. Tim huffs in frustration, resting his chin back down on his forearm. Dick takes the orange juice out, looks around to make sure Alfred isn’t lurking in the corner, before taking a swig directly from the carton.

“I think we’d all appreciate it if you put that in a glass, Master Richard.”

Dick nearly spits out his mouthful of juice as the butler comes out of the pantry.

“Holy f-! I swear to god, Alfred, you’re worse than Bruce!”

“I have to be, otherwise you’d all get away with your ridiculous habits.”

Tim is cackling, and Dick pouts at the mistreatment. That is, until Alfred plucks the mug of coffee out of Tim’s hand and replaces it with a glass of water.

“Alfred!”

“That goes for you too, Master Timothy. Three cups before noon is pushing it, even for you, young sir.”

Tim is trying not to look outraged at the offence and the effort makes him look constipated, which of course has Dick snickering behind Alfred. Tim glares at him and Dick doesn’t find it at all childish to stick his tongue out at the teenager.

“Okay, how the hell did I end up here overnight?”

The three of them look over to see an extremely bedraggled Jason standing in the doorway. His hair is wild and he’s wearing an old pair of Bruce’s pajamas and not much else, which he doesn’t seem too happy about.

“And why the fuck am I wearing these?”

Tim and Dick try to smother their laughter but don’t do a very good job of it. Jason looks like he’s going to strangle them both.

“Master Jason, I’d really rather you didn’t curse so freely, and I know can’t stop you, but I draw the line in my kitchen.”

Jason has the decency to look a little sheepish. “Sorry, Al…”

Alfred sighs, getting to work on a batch of pancake batter. “You were knocked unconscious during last nights… events. Master Bruce brought you back to the Batcave for examination, but barring a few scrapes there weren’t any adverse affects, so we put you to bed in your old room. You’re wearing a pair of Master Bruce pajamas because I was not comfortable putting you to sleep in your uniform. And before you say anything, I have already seen you in various states of undress, Master Jason, so there’s no need to get huffy about it.”

Jason’s standing there a little dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open as if to argue, but he doesn’t. Tim and Dick glance at each other and last about half a second before they’re both giggling into their respective beverages.

Jason’s mouth presses into a hard line as he walks over to the island next to Tim, picking an apple out of the fruit bowl and taking a huge bite. He moves almost too quickly to notice, and if Tim hadn’t been so tired he would have been able to stop his older brother from snatching the glass of water out of his hand and dumping the contents right over his head.

Tim lets out a strangled cry as he’s drenched, lashing out at Jason, who jumps nimbly out of the way. Dick is holding onto the kitchen counter for support, laughing so hard he’s almost falling over.

“That’s for laughing, Replacement.”

“Dick was laughing too!” Tim sputters, swiping his soaking wet hair out of his eyes.

Jason considers that for a moment, then turns around and whips his apple directly at Dick’s head.

Dick swerves to side and catches it just in time. “Hey!”

“Sorry Dickie, gotta be fair in my punishments.”

“Boys if you don’t start behaving I will ban you from this kitchen.”

“Sorry Alfred…” They say it unison, as if they’ve had practice.

They have.

The door to the kitchen slams open as a very tired and disgruntled-looking Damian stomps into the room. He doesn’t say a word as he clambers onto the stool at the end of the island.  His hair is sticking up in every direction, making him look like a fluffy chicken.

His three older brothers enjoy about five seconds of uproarious laughter before they’re all scrambling out of the kitchen as five feet of sleep-deprived teenage fury barrels after them.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

end of beginning

by Anonymous

They first meet in the marketplace.

Tim sees him, however cliche it sounds, across the square and thinks for a moment maybe he’s a god.

He’d heard about the gods coming down and meeting humans sometimes--offering them gifts and blessings and he thinks that he’s nothing that remarkable, before the man spots him.

His eyes light up and he makes his way through the crowd to him.

Or, five times Tim loses Bernard, and the one time he stays

Words: 12721, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 8 of anon s

Fandoms: DCU (Comics)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen, M/M

Characters: Tim Drake, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bernard Dowd, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne (Mentioned), Cassie Sandsmark (mentioned), Bart Allen (mentioned), Jason Todd (Mentioned), Darla Aquista (mentioned)

Relationships: Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent

Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Immortality, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Temporary Character Death, Blood and Violence, Implied Sexual Content, No Beta

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/43037640