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marauderundercover · 3 years

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Taking Chances Ch. 26: Illusions (Dance)

AO3

Marinette quickly decides she hates the punishment. The grounding. It sucks not being allowed to go on patrol with her family. Luckily, Adrien came back to Paris the day after she was grounded, so she didn’t have to take any of her family to Paris. Which she was thankful for, because as much as she loved them, she also doubted they’d be able to control their emotions long enough.

“Hey kiddo, we’re about to head out to patrol. Do you need anything?” Dick asks, sticking his head into her room. He’d been extremely nice since she got benched, not that he was ever anything but nice. But he’d also been acting like another dad, checking in on her, making dad jokes, the works. It helped since her own dad was currently still mad at her for blocking him from Paris.

“To patrol with you guys.” She says with a hopeful smile. Dick sighs, shaking his head.

“You know I can’t do that Mari. B’s the one who has to say you’re allowed back. I’m sorry kid.” Dick says. Marinette frowns.

“It’s fine. I’ll just stay here and draw or something.” She says, flopping back down on her bed. She can tell Dick hesitates, as if he wants to say something else, but then he’s gone. And she’s alone. Again.

“Marinette, are you okay?” Tikki asks, flying over and landing next to her head.

“It’s been four days, Tikki. Four days. How much longer is he gonna have me benched? If the akuma was bad, I would’ve brought in Kagami or Luka.” She rambles, covering her face with her hands. She was restless, which was making her anxious. She wanted to do something. She didn’t want to be stuck at home. And sure, she could train in the gym here, but her mind wouldn’t be in it. She’d be worried about her family the whole time.

“Well...maybe it’s time for you to be ungrounded.” Tikki says slowly. Marinette pulls her hands from her face and blinks at her friend.

“Are you...are you ungrounding me?” She asks. Because yes, her dad had grounded her. But Tikki had agreed with the punishment. And while sneaking around the world’s greatest detective would be hard, she was willing to do it. Going against the goddess of creation? Not so much.

“If you bring Trixx, you’ll be able to be invisible when you’re around your family.” Tikki suggests and Marinette grins.

“Plagg’s rubbing off on you, isn’t he?” She teases. Tikki huffs.

“Not at all. I just don’t like seeing you upset, Marinette.” She says and Marinette smiles.

“Thank you, Tikki.” She says, going over to the Miracle Box and pulling out Trixx’ necklace. She puts it on and grins at the small fox.

“Hiya Guardian! What’s goin’ on?” Trixx asks with a wide smile.

“Tikki suggested I bring you on patrol so I can be invisible. Whaddya say Trixx, ready to cause some mischief?” Marinette asks. Trixx smirks.

“Obviously!” He cheers. Marinette grins. Let the fun begin.

---

Marinette sticks close to her family, using Mirage to make herself invisible. It was weird, following her family and not being able to hear them (she hadn’t wanted to take a comm in case she messed up and talked, she’d be in real trouble then). But it was also funny, watching her dad tense if she got too close. He could definitely tell that something funny was going on, but she was determined to not let him figure her out. The beeping from Trixx’ necklace makes her huff. She’d have to go hide and recharge, but it was fine. Trixx had already told her that he was having fun messing with her family, so she knew he’d be willing to keep going for a little while longer. Dashing behind one of the air conditioning units on the roof, she lets Trixx’ Mirage drop, passing him a handful of berries.

“Take your time Trixx, they won’t get far.” Marinette reassures him, smiling at him as he grabs the berries from her. She leans up against the unit, taking a minute to just relax.

“Well, well, well. Looks like the little bug strayed from her birds.” A familiar voice drawls out. Marinette stiffens, not turning.

“Trixx, go. Find the others.” She commands, ripping the necklace off and passing it to Trixx. He immediately zips away and she whirls around, just in time to jump back and avoid the sword coming at her.

“You have more than one Miraculous? How interesting. You know, Damian stopped us from talking last time. I’d love to...chat.” Slade says, pulling his sword back. She can’t see his face, but she can hear the smirk in his voice. Marinette grits her teeth, remembering the last time she’d seen the man. The scar she had on her shoulder.

“I’d rather not. No offense, but you don’t seem like a great conversationalist.” She snarks, her entire body tense as she stays poised to fight. She glances around, trying to find an escape route that would get her as far away from him as possible. And quick.

“You’re not actually thinking of running, are you? You have no backup. I’ve been watching the Bats tonight. No one knows you’re even here.” He says, stepping closer so that he’s almost blocked her in. She feels her breathing quicken as she starts to panic slightly. She’d only escaped last time because of her family. They’d fought him off after he got ahold of her. He’s far stronger than her, she has to stay out of his reach. She takes a deep breath, staring the man down and schooling her features into a neutral mask. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her distressed.

“I never run from a fight.” She lies, throwing her yoyo out to wrap around the handle of the man’s sword, tugging as she throws her weight to his left. The clanking of the sword as it bounces off the roof makes her grin, and she quickly tugs the yoyo, grabbing the sword by its handle and twirling it around slightly, planting her feet in her new position. She’d managed to move so that she was no longer blocked between Slade and the air conditioning unit.

“Oh sweetheart, you can’t possibly beat me.” He says, shaking his head as he walks towards her, pulling his second sword off his back.

“Don’t underestimate me.” She snaps, holding up the sword and preparing herself to fight back. He sighs, as if he’s disappointed in her, before lunging forward, bringing his sword up for an attack. She holds up her own sword, blocking his strike. It was much different than the fencing foil she’d used a few times back in Paris, much heavier. She grits her teeth as he pushes down with the sword, obviously trying to overpower her. She holds for another moment before jumping back, jerking her sword away. The sudden change in force makes him stumble forwards and let out a growl. He continues to lunge towards her as she dances back and forth, trying to avoid fighting him too much. He’d definitely overpower her if she let him get too close.

“I’d rather do this the easy way, darling, but if you’re really going to make me do this the hard way we can.” He threatens, twirling the sword around before charging her again. She let out a gasp, jumping back again, her foot slipping as she was much closer to the edge of the roof than she expected. She falls, managing to grab the roof with her open hand, the sword now dangling at her side. She had two options. She could let go of the sword and use her yoyo to swing away, or she could try and let go of the roof and shoot out her yoyo quick enough to avoid splatting on the ground. She quickly makes her decision, dropping the sword into the dumpster below her and yanking out her yoyo to attempt to swing away.

“No!” She yells, as Slade grabs her hand from the roof, tugging her towards him before she can swing away. She struggles against him, kicking at him, throwing her elbows around wildly. She had to get out of his hold.

“Did you really think that would work?” He asks, as he pins her to chest. She continues struggling in his grasp, not willing to give up yet.

“Thought I’d try it.” She huffs.

“Sure you did sweetheart. Now, I’ll be taking these.” Slade says, reaching for her earrings. He touches them and hisses in pain, Marinette also hissing in shock. They’d heated up when he grabbed them, almost like they were trying to burn him. Unfortunately for Marinette, they were still on her ears. Which meant she also got burned.

“What the hell was that?” He hisses, whirling her around to face her, continuing to hold her arms down. She continues to struggle while glaring at the man.

“Apparently the earrings don’t want you either.” She snaps.

“Guess I’ll just have to take you with me.” He says and her eyes widen in panic. No. Nope. Not a secondary location, she’d watched enough true crime shows and listened to Tim rant about cold cases enough to know what a secondary location meant. It meant death. And she was not about to die again, especially not somewhere she couldn’t use the Cure. A hard blow to the back of her head makes her vision go black as she quickly slips into unconsciousness.

---

Dick Grayson was not expecting to see a tiny floating fox on patrol. He was definitely not expecting said tiny fox to be carrying a necklace and rambling worriedly.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down buddy. What’s wrong?” Dick asks, smiling at them. They were similar to Plagg, the tiny floating black cat that had hung around the day Marinette was a toddler.

“It’s the Guardian! She needs help. A man with a mask and swords found her and she doesn’t have any backup.” They ramble, a terrified look on their face. Dick frowns.

“Who?” He asks, not quite sure why the fox has chosen him.

“Marinette!” They cry, and Dick freezes. “Tikki told her she could be ungrounded and so we were following you guys, but then she had to stop and the man found her. Please, help her!”

“Lead the way.” He says, whirling on his heel and following the little creature as it zips through the city. He follows them all the way to a roof, frowning when the fox pauses and looks around, clear panic on their face.

“They were here. She was here.” They mumble, twisting in circles and looking around. They start zipping forward again, and Dick has to rush to follow. Hopefully they’d spotted Marinette. And whoever the guy was. As he follows the fox, he frowns when he spots a figure carrying something over their shoulder. Something limp- He pushes forward, going faster than the fox as he attempts to catch up. The second the figure lands on a roof, he whips out his escrima sticks, whacking the man across the back of his legs. The man stumbles, spinning around and glaring at Dick.

“Nightwing, wasn’t expecting to see you.” Slade growls. Dick narrows his eyes.

“Drop the girl, Slade.” He demands. Slade lets out a humorless laugh.

“I’ve been trying to get to her for weeks, do you really think I’m going to let go of her that easily?” He asks.

“I think if you know what’s good for you, you’ll set her down and get the hell out of Gotham.” Dick says.

“Nightwing, who is it?” Damian’s voice rings through the comm. Dick’s relieved that he was on the duo’s channel rather than the group channel. If he could get Marinette home before B noticed, maybe his baby sister wouldn’t get in more trouble.

“I don’t think you understand the importance of her earrings.” Slade counters, obviously preparing to fight his way out.

“I don’t care how important you think they are, Slade. Put her down and get out of the city.” He says, watching the older man’s body language to try and anticipate the attack. He hears Damian curse in his ear, and he resists the urge to reprimand him.

“How about no.” Slade quips, tossing Marinette to the side of the roof and charging at him in one fluid motion. Dick sees red as he watches Marinette get tossed aside so carelessly, her head bouncing off the roof. He uses one of his escrima sticks to counter the blows from the other man’s sword, using his other to whack the man’s shoulder. The two circle each other, each taking turns to start the attack. Slade may be motivated by his want for the earrings, but Dick was fighting for his sister. Losing wasn’t an option for Dick, not when one of his siblings was in danger.

“I believe Nightwing told you to leave.” Damian calls, bursting into the fight. Slade turns back towards Marinette, and just as Dick’s about to lunge for him- she disappears. Completely. Gone from sight. He begins to panic slightly. Where did she go? What happened to her? The cry from Slade breaks his concentration from where his sister just disappeared into thin air. He glances back at the man, unsurprised to see Damian’s sword through the older man’s side. As much as he wants to see Slade suffer, he knows Damian would be in trouble later if he actually killed the older man. “Robin.” Dick calls, hoping to ground his little brother before he did something he would regret. Damian scowls, stepping away from Slade. Dick turns his attention to the man, who was now disarmed and bleeding profusely. Not much of a threat. “Get the hell out of this city. Don’t let us see you here again Slade.” He snaps, unsurprised as the man turns and rushes away. The man was a coward. His biggest enemy was a twelve year old boy who had done nothing but be born. Gritting his teeth, Dick takes a deep breath. No need to let his anger get the best of him. He immediately starts to panic when he remembers Marinette disappearing. Just as he’s about to call it in, her limp form shimmers back into view. He rushes over to her, glancing momentarily at the floating fox next to her.

“I can do mirages. Hopefully I controlled it enough not to make chaos anywhere, but-” They stop, glancing at Marinette. “But I had to do something.”

“Thank you.” Dick says softly, picking up Marinette and holding her close to his chest.

“Should I alert Father?” Damian asks. Dick turns to look at him, noticing how tense the younger boy looks. He weighs his options. He could take her back to the manor and let her get into even more trouble with Bruce. Or, he could take her to his apartment and try to convince Bruce that she’d been there all night.

“Let’s not. She’ll just be benched for even longer, and obviously trying to keep her from patrols isn’t going to end well for us.” Dick says, frowning at her limp form. Damian tenses, but nods. “I will continue patrol while you take her to a safe location. I expect an update once she is awake. You should stay with her, Slade has obviously become obsessed with her.” Damian says, and Dick nods.

“Thank you, Robin. I know you don’t like going against him, but…..” Dick trails off, looking at Marinette and how tiny she looked right now. Damian nods.

“She’s family as well. I did not agree with her punishment, I will not aid in it being lengthened.” He says before swinging away. Dick just smiles softly, shaking his head at his youngest brother. That was probably as close as he’d get to admitting he loved Marinette. But it was clear, in his actions, that he did care about her. Just as he cared about their other brothers, no matter how much he denied it. Sighing, Dick adjusts Marinette in his arms before grappling towards his apartment. This was going to be a long night.

---

Marinette wakes up and immediately groans at the light in the room. Almost immediately, the light disappears, as if someone flipped a switch.

“Hey kiddo.” A soft voice says. She sits up and winces, holding a hand against her head. She blinks, her eyes adjusting as she glances around the unfamiliar space.

“Dick?” She says, confused. Where were they? What happened?

“You’re okay kid, we’re at my apartment. It’s where I live when Kori and Mari are in town. Slade got you, almost got away with you too. But your little fox friend found me and I was able to get there in time. Try and drink a little water, I need to call Damian and let him know you’re awake.” He says and she starts to panic. Did their dad also know? Was she in more trouble? Was- “Marinette, you gotta breathe. Damian and I are the only ones who know you snuck out. Neither of us wanna tell B, cause then you’d just be sneaking on patrol even longer and that’s dangerous. But I’m not gonna lecture you right now. So just take a breath. That’s it kid, you’re okay.” He soothes, breathing with her for several counts. She nods once she’s calmed down, and he grins at her before walking away to make the call. She picks up the water, sipping on it and trying to ignore the pounding in her head. Instead, she glances around the apartment, smiling softly at the pictures. She’d found out about her sister in law and niece not that long ago. They were apparently off planet right now, but she had hope that they would be back before the summer was over so she could meet them. A sudden wave of nausea hits her and she groans, laying back against the couch. She huffs in frustration when she realizes she likely has a concussion.

“When I said you were ungrounded, I didn’t mean for you to fight the man that stabbed you on your first trip to Gotham.” Tikki complains, flying up and staring straight into her eyes. Marinette groans, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting.

“I didn’t mean to.” She reminds the Kwami, opening an eye to peek at her.

“Didn’t mean to.” She mumbles before letting out an uncharacteristic huff. “Next time tell one of your brothers, please Marinette. Even if you’re sneaking out. I’m sure they could figure out a way to be in communication with you without letting your dad know. It would make me feel better knowing that you have backup from the start.” Tikki says, her worry clear on her small face.

“I will, don’t worry Tikki.” Marinette says with a sigh. She could hold her own against a normal criminal, or an akumatized villain. But it wasn’t easy fighting against a man more than twice her size who was obviously highly trained.

“B thinks you came over here before patrol, so your cover is safe.” Dick says, walking back into the living room. Marinette smiles weakly at him, fully expecting a lecture now that he’s off the phone. Dick sits on the arm of the chair next to the couch, looking at her worriedly. “Think you have a concussion?” He asks. She blinks, but nods slowly. He walks away and comes back a moment later with some painkillers, passing them to her. She takes them, hoping that they’ll start working sooner than later as the dull pounding in her head has escalated since waking up.

“Are you gonna yell at me?” She asks quietly, not looking at him.

“No, Marinette, I’m not gonna yell at you.” He says, and she looks at him, frowning.

“Why? I knew I was benched. And I still went out, and I didn’t tell anyone.” She says, confused as to why he wasn’t yelling. Her dad hadn’t yelled at her after she got stabbed, just flat out refused to let her patrol. But he’d yelled at her after the Watchtower thing. And the stealing the Batmobile thing. And the whole keeping him from getting to Paris thing. And the fighting an akuma alone thing.

“You know that you messed up, why would I yell at you? You know, and now next time, you’ll do it differently. You’ll be better and learn from this mistake. I’m not gonna yell at you for secretly going on patrol ‘cause I’d be a hypocrite. Was I scared to death when I realized the limp thing on Slade’s shoulder was you? Yes. God, yes, I was terrified. But you’re here and you’re fine. So instead of yelling, you’re gonna stay here tonight and I’m gonna make sure I don’t need to take you to Alfred for the concussion.” Dick says with a small smile. Marinette smiles at her brother, relieved.

“Are you gonna tell dad?” She asks. Even though he doesn’t know yet, she knows that there’s still a chance of Dick telling him.

“No, but can you do something for me?” He asks. She nods. “Next time you wanna sneak out without B knowing, could you tell me or Jay? Please? Just so we know to check in on you. We’re not gonna follow you or anything, but it’d be nice to know that one of us needs to check in and make sure you’re okay.” He says. She quirks an eyebrow in surprise. He wasn’t going to follow her?

“Really?” She asks, he nods.

“I know that sometimes you just need a break. Trust me, I get it. I understand that B can be….overbearing.” Dick says with a sigh. Marinette nods in agreement, sitting back slightly and letting out a yawn. Just as her eyes are about to close, there’s a snap in front of her face.

“What?” She groans, frowning at her brother.

“Can’t go to sleep yet kiddo. You clearly have a concussion, so I’m gonna need you to stay awake for a couple hours just to make sure your symptoms stay on the mild side.” He says. She frowns and is about to argue when the front door opens. Dick immediately jumps up and stands in front of her, but relaxes almost as quickly.

“Daddy!” The little girl, who Marinette realizes must be Mar’i, squeals, flying straight at Dick. Marinette blinks. Her niece could fly. That’s awesome! But would definitely throw a new challenge in when she babysits the girl.

“Who is this?” The woman, who was taller than Dick and drop dead gorgeous, asks, a small smile on her face. Marinette grins, waving from the couch.

“Hey, I’m Marinette. Dick’s newest sister.” She says. The woman, Kori, sighs, a smile on her face as she shakes her head.

“He adopted another?” She asks Dick. He snorts, shaking his head as he holds his daughter close.

“Nope, she’s his actual daughter. Little D took it surprisingly well.” Dick says.

“So she’s my aunt?” Mar’i asks, peeking over Dick’s shoulder.

“Yup! I’m so glad to finally meet you Mar’i.” Marinette says with a small smile, dizziness hitting her again randomly. She shuts her eyes, trying to ground herself.

“Oh, nope, sorry honey. Aunt Marinette has a bit of a headache right now, you’ll have to be easy with her.” She hears Dick say, probably stopping Mar’i from launching herself at her.

“Can we play ballerina?” Mar’i asks, and Marinette forces herself to open her eyes and look at the girl. Her heart melts at the little pout on the girl’s face and Marinette already knows that this girl is going to have her wrapped around her finger, just like Manon.

“Sweetie-” Dick starts, but Marinette cuts him off.

“Why don’t you show me your ballerina moves tonight, and then tomorrow once I’m feeling better, we can play ballerina together?” She suggests, grinning at the look on her niece’s face.

“Yes, yes, yes!” She squeals, launching herself from Dick’s arms and flying to a different room.

“Marinette-” Dick starts with a sigh, an unimpressed look on his face.

“I’ll help her.” Tikki speaks up, flying to be eye level with Dick. “I can’t heal her completely, but I can heal her partially just as I did when Slade stabbed her. But I do have to warn you, if he tries to hurt my Bug again, I will let him see that there is a fate worse than death.” Marinette blinks in surprise at the complete and total rage radiating from her usual cheery friend. She watches as Dick nods in agreement.

“Better you than me. Bruce can’t yell at you.” He says in an even tone. Marinette’s jaw drops. That was...surprisingly violent for her usually cheery brother. Before she can question him, Mar’i flies back into the room in a pale pink tutu.

“Ready to see my dances?” She asks, grinning widely. Marinette nods, settling in to spend some time with her newest family members, plans of a new ballet outfit for Mar’i already dancing through her head.

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forestlingincorporated · 3 years

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Teen Titans #29

So, one of my favorite types of fics to read is Different First Meeting fics between Jason and Tim. I looooove reading Enemies To Caretaker, of which I fed handsomely on fairly recently. Big Brother Jason fics give me warm fuzzies, and Tim Drake needs a hug, and I feel like if these two actually got to know each other and worked past their preconceptions, they’d get along surprisingly well. And Still A Jason!Robin Fanboy Tim Drake is just a fun concept.

Also, it just FEELS right for the middle siblings to band together after Damian comes along, lets get those abandonment issues in the party.

So, for mysterious and very secret TimKon Week 2021 reasons, I was rereading some Teen Titans, and I stumbled over the Original Tim+Jason First Meeting, and I just sort of wanted to talk about some interesting things I found in there rereading it after several years.

First thing right off the bat, when reading fics, normally it’s either the Core Four at the tower that Jason puts to sleep, or it’s Tim alone for the night. In the comic, none of Tim’s close friends are even at the tower, Jason waits for Bart and Cassie to leave, and Conner actually hasn’t come around for an in-universe month, because this is after the Superboy’s Birthright arc where Lex mind controls Conner.

The people Jason knocks out were his own teammates when he was a Titan. He specifically says he never got to work with Beast Boy or Cyborg directly, so he doesn’t feel bad electrocuting them, but he feels bad putting Raven under much more gently because she used to worry for him.

Tim has just gotten off the phone with Bruce when Jason shows up. It seems like Bruce might’ve been picking Tim up, but something’s come up with Martian Manhunter going missing, so Tim tells him he’ll catch a ride with Cyborg.

This is actually really interesting to me, because it’s a small moment of Bruce letting Tim down. It’s a conversation he’s probably had with his biological father many times when Jack’s canceled on him.

Gonna acknowledge this abomination real quick. This is So Stupid, and I’m glad as a fandom we just all agreed Jason didn’t do this. It makes me ask so many questions. Where did he get that oversized Robin costume? Why’d he tear off his perfectly good clothes? Why did he do this? Why the yellow tights? WHY?

A lot of things are actually happening here that are actually Really Interesting if you just look past the stupid fucking outfit. Because this comic actually flew really close to greatness, they just ended up dropping the ball by not continuing to do more with it.

First off, Jason doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s immediately like “yeah, yeah, yeah, Red Hood, whatever, I’m Jason Todd, bitch! Fight me.”

Secondly, Jason’s done his homework. He knows A LOT about Tim. He knows his name, he knows he has a dad, he knows he went to prep school, and he knows the story of how Tim became Robin. How he GOT that last bit of information, I’d honestly like to know. But even HAVING the information isn’t enough; he’s still letting his preconceived ideas get in the way. The surface level information about Tim’s life only served to fuel his jealousy and anger (thanks, Lazerus Pitt!). He’s so focused on Tim’s privilege that he’s looked past evidence of hardship; if he’s done this much research on Tim, he’s no doubt seen records of multiple boarding schools, lengthy travel records, news reports, a death certificate.... He can’t even bring himself to BELIEVE parts of Tim’s story that aren’t lining up with his world view, like HOW he became Robin.

Jason has convinced himself that what he’s discovered about Tim and the period of time when Jason was dead - the fact that Bruce was spiraling after his death, that his family mourned him, that Tim had to step up to the plate at a weird suicide prevention buddy system - is all a lie. Despite the fact that he’s beating Tim’s ass, he speaks to him with the assumption that Tim’s a child who’s been manipulated and lied to.

Meanwhile, it must be SO PAINFUL for Tim to hear Jason say these things: I bet he said the same thing to you he said to me, didn’t he? That you have the talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in his war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light in his darkness.

Bruce never said any of that to Tim. Bruce rejected Tim, he didn’t want Tim, and begrudgingly accepted Tim.

Going back to Jason waiting for Tim’s other young teen friends to leave the tower before going in, only drugging his own former teammates, is much of his anger seems directed at THEM, not just Bruce. To Jason, it looks like they didn’t mourn him either, he has no statue. I find it interesting that he smashes Donna Troy’s statue, who died after him, and I believe she came back before he did.

Unless he was keeping track of the news from the League of Assassins, to Jason, Donna never died.

And most importantly? Tim shuts Jason down. Tim “Bitch, Please” Drake out here like: you’re a fucking idiot, he loved you to death, he barely let me audition for the role.

Tim shows some deep resentment towards Jason in this scene. I mean... earned, Jason literally came into his house and starting hitting him, but Tim’s relationship towards the Idea Of Jason has gone through a few changes. At first Jason was ROBIN! THE BOY WONDER! And if maybe Tim thought Bruce wasn’t AS happy with Jason as he was with Dick, there was still SOME hero worship early on. But it only takes Bruce and Alfred and Dick using Jason’s death as a cautionary tale a few times to get Tim to see Jason AS a cautionary tale - the kind of Robin NOT to be. But the more Tim craved Bruce’s paternal attention and approval, and the more Bruce withheld it or made Tim work for it, knowing that Bruce did that, in part, because of his love and grief for his dead son (Tim having an actual living breathing father plays a part, too), and those feelings towards Jason have started to fester.

Jason can’t let it go, though, he thinks the concept of Robin was a mistake and had always been a mistake, and if he can hurt Tim, so can Scarecrow, Penguin, The Joker.

This is a good time to bring up that one thing I think Jason probably doesn’t know is Tim is injured. It is a little over a month since since Conner shattered Tim’s right arm. Tim is still healing from a comminuted fracture in his forearm. And looking at this picture that is - ah, yes, that is the injured arm Jason is swinging Tim by. Tim is probably healed by now, the cast IS off and he’s a child, but bones don’t fully return to full strength for 3-6 months.

Jason is conflicted. This is clearly, in part, a fucked up way of “protecting” what he sees as a manipulated child, to convince him to leave Bruce. But there’s also clearly some deep, deep jealousy thrown into the mix to complicate matters and cloud his judgement. Ultimately, Jason isn’t there to kill Tim. Tim would be dead if he was. He’s there to “beat some sense into him,” and he ultimately fails, and fails badly.

Tim is found by the older Titans, awake by now, though it seems Jason knocked him out to, uh, fuck with the memorial chamber, and Tim... does not beat around the bush. No secret identities here just “yeah, Jason Todd beat the shit out of me.”

And their reactions are HILARIOUS.

One more little sidebar, in the comic, Jason gets in with a D.N.A. check that never removed him from its permissions. Usually in fic this is a unique pass code. I’m not sure which version I like better, honestly. There’s something about Jason physically inputting a code that accepts him even though he’s supposedly dead that I really like, and just feels better than a dna scan. A dna scan sounds SAFER, sure, but there’s something about the Titans leaving in an honest SECURITY RISK out of sentiment that I like.

Lastly, I really like how it ends. Jason honestly thinks Tim IS a good Robin, and it seems like Jason’s done some research on the core four, mentioning Tim’s “real friends” again while the “camera” is on Conner and Cassie, suggesting that Jason KNOWS about them and possibly that targeting the tower while they were gone maybe wasn’t an accident or out of convenience, but fully intentional. And again, Jason’s real problem is highlighted: he feels alone, forgotten, unmemorable, no family, no friends.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Teen Titans #Teen Titans (2003-2011)

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dangerouscommiesubversive · 3 years

Text

fought on your side long before you were born

Fandom: Kamen Rider, Batman, Kamen Rider W Characters: Hongo Takeshi, Tachibana Tobei, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Hidari Shoutaro, Philip, Damian Wayne Song: "Father to Son," Queen (playlist here)

1977

Tachibana’s got a shop now, something he can use to support his family now that he isn’t traveling, and the first thing that greets Takeshi as he walks in is the thick smell of motor oil. There’s a bike in pieces at one end of the shop floor around which several young men are clustered, arguing cheerfully. Another young man is sitting in a corner near them, inexplicably playing acoustic guitar and responding briefly whenever he’s addressed. It’s new, but it feels like home, and Takeshi can feel his shoulders instinctively relaxing.

“Hongo!” Tachibana himself emerges from the shop office, beaming. “When’d you get back to Japan?”

“Just now, I came right here.”

“Damn right you did.” There’s some hugging and back-slapping and general affectionate ribbing, and then Tachibana says, “So what do you think? Nice place, right?”

“It’s wonderful. How’s your son?”

“Healthy as a horse, running me and Mari ragged.” Tachibana gestures to the huddle of young men at the other end of the room. “Plenty of help around here, though.”

Takeshi grins. “I can see that. Who’s the one with the guitar?”

“Oh, him? American kid. Funny story, really, I’m closing up one day when this young guy just materializes—no, not literally, he’s just real quiet—and asks, am I Tachibana Tobei? Only Dr. Jin in Madrid says I’m the best in the world and will I teach him about motorcycles! And he hands me a letter of introduction from Keisuke!” Tachibana sounds like he’s holding back laughter. “So he’s renting our spare room at the house and working here for a few months. Quick study, too. Shiro taught him guitar, he’s in town for a bit and they hit it off. Here, come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

They head over to the disassembled motorcycle, and the young men fall all over themselves to be introduced, which Takeshi bears with good cheer. They’re young, of course they’re enthusiasts.

The American boy is last, and Takeshi is shocked to realize that he is a boy, no more than eighteen or nineteen, a pale youth with blue eyes and a lonely look that reminds Takeshi of Shiro. No wonder they get along. He sets his guitar aside and bows, stiff and solemn, and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hongo. Mr. Tachibana talks about you a lot.”

“That I do! Hongo, this is Bruce Wayne, he’s the summer guest I was telling you about.”

“Good to meet you, Wayne. Your accent is excellent.” The boy’s got a firm handshake. “What brings you to Japan?”

“Study, sir,” but the boy’s tone says that’s not all of it. “I’m trying to learn all I can. Maybe I could ask you a few things later, if you don’t mind.”

Takeshi blinks. “Not sure what you’d want to ask, but I don’t see why not.”

He eats dinner at Tachibana’s house that evening, because of course Tachibana isn’t going to let him get away unfed his first night back in town. Mari greets him at the door, Joji in her arms, beaming.

He’s intially surprised to see that the American boy is there too, until he remembers, of course he is—Wayne’s renting the spare room. And he’s barely noticeable for most of the meal, silent, although he’s clearly listening to everything that’s said. After dinner he also helps Mari with the dishes, entirely unprompted, which Takeshi approves of, and then spends some time gently entertaining the toddler.

Later, Tachibana and Mari step away for a moment to get their son to bed, and Takeshi looks at the silent young man sitting in the corner and says, “So. Wayne.”

“Yes, Mr. Hongo?”

“You said you had something you wanted to ask me, and we’ve got a few minutes now. What can I help you with?”

Wayne remains quiet for a long moment, and then fixes those piercing eyes on Takeshi and says, “Mr. Tachibana says you’re the strongest person he knows. What does it mean to be strong?”

Not what Takeshi had been expecting. Granted, what he wasexpecting, he doesn’t know, but…not that. He thinks about it, frowning. “I’d say…kindness.”

Wayne’s forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean?”

“Look, Wayne, you can get as powerful as you want in life, but it’s only strength if you can use it to be kind. Otherwise it’s just tyranny.” Takeshi leans forward and holds out his hand, as if to shake. “Anyone, any fool on Earth can take their hand and make it into a fist. To reach out to someone when they need help, that’s strength.”

Slow nodding, and Wayne reaches out to him in return, clasps his hand for a brief moment, and says, “Thank you. That’s a valuable insight.”

Takeshi nods. “Ask Tachibana that question, too, and Shiro. It’s a good thing to ask. Tells you a lot about the person answering.” He considers it for a moment. “Of course, there will always be some people you won’t be able to help, we share this world with monsters. But you must always try to be kind. That’s strength.”

2017

Bruce checks his watch as he walks up to the restaurant, satisfied to be a precise fifteen minutes early, and then looks up and is surprised to realize that for once Dick’s beaten him there. Not only is he there, too, he’s talking to someone Bruce doesn’t recognize.

The stranger seems to be about Dick’s own age, a man in a black fedora and slightly old-fashioned dress clothes from a minor Japanese fashion label. His tone suggests an awkward tourist, but his stance says he’s a fighter, and the way he watches his surroundings indicates that he’s memorizing as many details as possible. He’s got a guidebook in one hand, and a notebook sticking out of his pocket, and he’s speaking Japanese, which is not one of Dick’s stronger languages. Bruce steps forward, thinking he might need to translate, but Dick replies to the other man in English, which is met with a thoughtful nod. So—they’re about the same level in each other’s languages. Better at hearing than speaking. Convenient for them.

“—so if you’re looking for something in his field, the natural history museum is great. If you want somewhere more romantic,though, the Thorndike is amazing, and there’s this restaurant right near it, I forget the name—oh, hey, Bruce! You’re here! What’s the name of that restaurant across the street from the Thorndike Museum?”

“San Sebastian Jatetxe.”

“That’s the one! Thank you!” Dick beams at him, then turns to his companion. “I’ll write it down for you.”

“<Thank you, I’d appreciate that.>”

“Of course! This is my foster father, by the way, Shoutaro-san.Bruce Wayne. Bruce, this is Shoutaro Hidari, he’s visting Gotham for a couple of weeks.” To Shoutaro again, “Bruce’s Japanese is much better than mine.”

Bruce nods. “<What brings you to Gotham, Mr. Hidari?>”

Shoutaro relaxes visibly at the question; it’s likely the only new voice he’s heard speaking his mother tongue in days. “<My partner is attending a conference here, so we decided we’d make it a vacation.>”

“<Aha. Curators and archivists?>”

“<How did you guess?>”

“<A friend of Dick’s and mine is also attending, she mentioned that international registrations are up significantly this year.>” Bruce pauses. “<If you’re looking for date spots, the Thorndike is excellent, as Dick said, but the Botanical Gardens are also very nice this time of year.>”

Shoutaro blushes warmly. “<Thank you very much for the recommendation.>”

He doesn’t think much more about Dick’s tourist friend until that night, when he and Damian are out on patrol. It’s a quiet night, so they’re stopping a mugging as gently as possible when the mugger—a repeat offender and sometime informant, Bruce makes a note to check in on him at home out of suit—says, “So, uh, Bats. Who’s the new guy?”

Bruce frowns. No one new should be operating here.“Which one?”

“You know, the bug guy. My buddy texted about him, said he was speaking some other language. Well, he said it was a bug ninja who spoke Japanese, but he watches a lotta anime and he gets real excited, so I ain’t sure he’s right.”

“A bug. What color?”

“Oh, it changes, it’s cool as hell.” He shows Bruce and Damian a picture on his phone. “He a friend’a yours?”

“Yes. He’s visiting.” Bruce peers at the photo and then hands his informant two hundred dollars. “Buy dinner and go home, Nathan. Tell your aunt I say hello.”

“Yo, sure thing. Thanks, Bats!”

They’ve only been searching a few minutes when their earpieces crackle and Babs says, “Roof of GPL Central Branch. Someone I don’t recognize, they just took out some Joker goons who were robbing a jewelry store at the corner of High and 26th. Dick’s on his way too.”

They touch down at one end of the Gotham Public Library’s roof as Dick’s landing at the other and survey their guest, who’s looking between the three of them with something that’s likely surprise, although given that their face is entirely concealed it’s not certain. The insectoid red eyes and sharp antennae on the helmet and the white scarf drifting in the air from the back of the right shoulder send a shock of recognition down Bruce’s spine. He considers speaking first, but then nods to Dick instead. For better or for worse, Dick is good at putting people at ease.

“Hi there.” Dick waves to the stranger, tone cheery but guarded. “We haven’t seen you around before, mind telling us what you’re doing in Gotham?”

The stranger cocks their head to the left for a moment before saying, haltingly, “We. Ah. We are…tourists? We did not mean to…um…” The left eye of the helmet flashes as they’re speaking. A beat, and then the righteye begins to flash, and they say, in an entirely different voice that’s noticeably accented but much more fluent, “I’ll handle this part if you don’t mind, partner. Good evening, we’re Kamen Rider W. Our apologies, we didn’t mean to intrude on your territory. Are we addressing the famed Batman and his companions?”

Bruce says, slowly, “That’s correct. You’re a Rider?”

“Oh, you’re familiar with the term! That’s wonderful. Yes, that’s correct. We’ve been in operation as such since late 2008, although of course primarily in Japan.”

“Tt.” Damian scowls. “<If you mostly work in Japan, what are you doing running around here?>”

The left eye on the helmet begins to flash again as W responds in the first voice, in Japanese now. “<It wasn’t exactly the plan, a man in clown makeup waved a gun at me and tried to take my wallet and once I’d knocked him out I noticed that there were about five more clowns breaking into a jewelry store down the street. I couldn’t just leave them to it.>”

Dick is also frowning now. “I—have we met before? I recognize your voice. The, uh, left-hand one.”

“” says the left-hand voice, and then the right-hand one breaks in with, “Actually, based on his memory of your speech patterns, I believe you and my partner met earlier today, you recommended a couple of date locations and a Basque restaurant I’m eager to visit.”

Bruce can see Dick’s eyes going wide from halfway across the roof. He’s visibly biting back the urge to address their guest by name, which would be discourteous, to say the least, with everyone in costume, so Bruce cuts in with, “Is my understanding correct that we’re speaking to two people currently?”

“That’s correct!” says the right-hand voice, sounding delighted. “We two are a single Kamen Rider.”

Dick blinks. “Is this like a Firestorm thing? Are you fused?”

“Not unlike, but no. My physical body is currently unconscious in our hotel room, which is certainly much more comfortable than some of the other places in which I’ve passed out. Although as my partner wasoriginally going out to get us something to eat when he was accosted, I ambecoming concerned about my caloric intake.” And the left-hand voice says, “<Yeah, I was thinking I’d be able to get us something decent at the Seven-Eleven, but the ones here are different from the ones at home.>”

“I think,” Bruce says, “this conversation would be better continued elsewhere.”

Twenty minutes later they’re all out of suit and seated around a table at an all-night diner, and Shoutaro’s partner, introduced only as Philip, is inspecting the menu with interest. “This is intimidatingly lengthy, do you have recommendations?”

Dick grins. “Get one of the meat-lovers omelettes. And then if you still have room get some baklava, the owner’s mother makes it and it’s amazing.”

Bruce, meanwhile, is turning Shoutaro’s business card over in his hands. “<You’re a detective?>”

“”

“<I’ve heard of the Fuuto Museum, they hosted an intriguing exhibit on Mesopotamian artifacts last year.>”

“<You heard about Nitoh’s exhibit here? That’s amazing, I’ll have to let him know.>”

“<Please tell him I was very impressed with his thesis.>”

Damian’s been scowling silently into his milkshake, but suddenly he slaps the table and everyone jumps. “I knew I recognized that name!” Then, to Shoutaro, “”

“<I—you did? Really? It hasn’t had any translations, how did you hear about it?>”

“<My, uh.>” Damian shifts awkwardly. “<My mother gave it to me, I like detective stories. I enjoyed it. Although that copy was lost.>”

“<Oh, I’ll send you a new one if you like, I don’t imagine it’d be easy to get here.>”

The waitress comes by, and her eyebrows slowly rise as everyone orders, presumably at the quantity of food on request. When she’s left again, Philip turns to Bruce and says, brightly, “I also take it that you’re the sponsor Ms. Gordon mentioned, we had a very stimulating chat at the conference earlier today.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised to hear that you met her.”

“Coincidence and fate figure largely in our lives, Mr. Wayne.” Philip smiles like a cat; it’s oddly charming. “We’re superheroes, after all. Here,” to Damian, “Dick mentioned to me that you like animals, would you like to see a picture of my cat? He used to be a supervillain.”

After they consume a truly astonishing amount of diner food it’s time to part ways, and Bruce shakes hands with Shoutaro and Philip and says, “<It was good to meet you both.>”

Philip beams. “<Likewise, thank you, it’s been a pleasure. And I’m looking forward to seeing more of Gotham.>”

Shoutaro looks up at him for a moment. “<It’s been good talking to you, Mr. Wayne. You…remind me of someone I used to know.>”

“” Bruce turns to go, but then turns back. “”

They nod, precisely in sync, and Philip says, “<Yes?>”

“<What does it mean to be strong?>”

Silence for a moment, Shoutaro and Philip glancing at each other while Dick and Damian wait in puzzled silence, and then Shoutaro says, “<Kindness,>” and Philip says, “<Love.>” Another shared glance before Shoutaro continues. “<Anyone can hurt someone else. Helping them, that’s strength.>”

Bruce nods. “<Somehow that’s what I knew you’d say.>”

#hongo takeshi #tachibana tobei #bruce wayne #dick grayson #hidari shoutaro #philip #damian wayne #fanfiction #30 day shuffle challenge

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thecaptainhelm · 4 years

Text

Aw, this comes to around an even 2080 words, isn’t that sweet? This is officially it, no more, no more I say! I’ll be working on something for Halloween, so look forward to that.

Blooper 1:

Sometime after he was left alone by Ladybug...

Robin blinked, shaking himself back to awareness, bewildered.

Just how much time had passed since...

He blushed scarlet. (Just like her suit.)

Robin grit his teeth and made his way downstairs on unsteady legs. His internal clock felt that close to an hour had passed and he tsked, sitting in one of the leather seats of the breakroom.

Reclining back, his thoughts tried in vain to remember what he had been doing, and when he did the rage came back.

“I still can’t believe that happened,” he grumbled to himself as he remembered his father’s disappointment. Because it was Everything is Damian’s fault This Week, except he didn’t get the memo.

Like always, he groused.

He sighed, tilted his head back, and caught sight of the stairwell. Warmth settled in his chest replacing the cold anger. He surreptitiously glanced around finding no one, he allowed his mind to go back in time.

Ladybug’s kiss had been tender and sweet, filling his entire body with a foreign sense of care that echoed through him even now. And when she pressed against him for insistently it took everything in him to try to kiss back, though that failed.

She had taken the lead completely, practically had him pinned with her tongue down his throat.

What if she did have him pinned with her tongue down his throat?

His face heated up in full force as he thought deeply, fantasizing.

Ladybug pulled back with a quiet noise, her gaze was unyielding and unapologetic.

“That’s...not why I offered, but I got lost in the moment,” Blue eyes like steel. His legs went weak.

“But it seems like you’re into this sort of thing.” She grabbed him by the scruff of his hood and slowly maneuvered him against the wall. She was gentle as her eyes pierced into his with dark promise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. Ladybug smiled, calm.

“I think I’m about to wreck an egoistic vigilante, what do you think you’re doing is what you want to ask, hm? Birdy,” Robin gulped as he tried to respond.

“Oh, do you not want to?” She leaned close in a mockery of concern.

“I...I, uh,”

“It’s okay,” her gloved hand carded through his hair. “Take your time, I’m not gonna rush you.”

“I…” His heart was going crazy. He wanted her to do something, but he didn’t have the guts to say it.

A sigh. “Aw, Birdy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you, I’ll leave and we can forget this ever happened.”

No!

“I want!” he rasped in a hurry. “Want it so bad, Ladybug, I--” Lips slammed into his own as deft hands pressed his shoulders into the wall.

She briefly pulled away, leaving him gasping for air. “Don’t worry, Robin. I’m going to give you exactly what you want and more,”

He whimpered, hot and pulsing with blood.

“Robin,” she pushed closer. “I need you to do something for me, can you be a good boy and do it real quick, please?”

“Yes, anything,” he panted. “I’ll be so good, so, so good,”

Ladybug giggled. “Then,” she yanked his head back by his hair with a vicious smirk.

“Open your mouth.”

Robin let his jaw go slack, shivering in anticipation--

A shrill chime reached his ears. It was his communicator. He flicked it open, and there was a message from Agent A, relaying a request to return home for a briefing of a drug bust tomorrow, all hands on deck. Great, just what he needed. He sent his ETA and stood to leave, but froze, halfway out the chair.

No , he thought, panicking. No, no, no. Absolutely not!

A glance down swiftly confirmed his denial.

He had an erection. From thinking about being pushed around. By Ladybug, of all people.

He flopped back into his seat with a groan, head in his hands. His blush had spread all the way to his ears and chest while the gentle warmth from earlier had formed into something that was mildly uncomfortable in his layers of clothes.

“Fuck it,” he rose up to storm towards the exit, refusing to walk bowlegged as his dick rubbed against the jockstrap of his suit.

“Fuck this entire day to hell!”

Blooper 2:

Two weeks after Damian’s freeloading begins...

Marinette hummed a jaunty tune as she closed the door to her art studio, kicking off her shoes.

“I’m back and I brought those madeleines you like!” She called brightly as she made her way to the kitchenette.

“Coming!” Damian gingerly walked in and immediately began to fiddle one-handed with the box.

“I’m going to have mine with black tea, what do you want?” she asked, pulling out the tea boxes.

He grimaced. “You’re disgusting, you clearly have no taste. Get me my usual.”

She pinned him with a hard stare. He sighed.

“If you could make me some lavender tea, I would appreciate it, thank you,” he said politely..

“You would also appreciate me kissing the daylights out of you,” she said, putting the kettle on the stove.

“...what?”

“Hmm?” she turned from the sink, seeing Damian looking at her with shock.

“What did you just say?”

Marinette placed two mugs down on the table, striding towards him. She plucked the box of madeleines out of his hands and set it back on the table.

“I said,” she stared. “You want to make out with me.”

Damian blinked owlishly at her, then scoffed. “Great, you’re an actual pervert, like I suspected. And here I was hoping that it was a spontaneous happenstance.”

“Aw, you know it’s just that I like you. “ She caressed his jaw, pulling a blush to his skin.

“You’re a human being, not an animal,” he put his hands around her waist. “Last I checked, evolution ensured that we don’t have an estrus period.”

Marinette wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling close. “Fair enough,”

“But do you really want me to stop?”

Damian tilted his head down. “The answer should be obvious, Marinette .”

They gravitate to one another, an irresistible pull. Lips a breath away from contact, she stops.

“Well, in that case, it’s a real shame,” she whispered before abruptly pulling away with a gusty sigh.

“Since you never said how you feel about me, I won’t pressure you. I’m a human being after all.”

Damian stands arms outstretched while she walks back toward the stove as the kettle begins to whistle.

She pours him his mug and hands it to him, along with the bakery box. “Here you go!”

She cheekily grins at him before going to make her own tea. She vaguely hears him grumble and retreat to the parlor, no doubt to sulkily have his afternoon tea.

He’s so much fun to tease , she thinks, before gasping.

“Hey, all those madeleines aren’t just for you, save me some!” Silence.

“Damian!”

Blooper 3:

The second night of Damian’s freeloading…

Damian sat completely still as Ladybug checked his head for any lumps and fractures, a logical idea, but a terrible one in hindsight.

Why? Because it required her to run her bare, naked hands through his hair, light and fleeting touches moving all around his head.

He knew that it was merely a necessary medical procedure, but he still couldn’t help rolling his head away. It was nothing but him being stupid and childish. Yet no matter how many times he told himself this, no matter how many times he could see Ladybug quickly reigning in her frustration, he rolled out of her reach with grit teeth.

Ladybug sighed, exasperated. “Damian, what is your problem? I’m trying to check you for head trauma.”

He stubbornly glanced away.

“Oh come on, stop being such a brat,” he bristled at that. “And look over here, please.”

He remained unmoving.

“Oh for--” An exasperated sigh. Small, thin hands grasping his shoulders. He grunts and shakes them off.

“Stop being so whiny, and look at me --!” He’s grabbed again and what happens next is something that will make him want to wither away in embarrassment until the day he dies and some years after that.

Marinette pulls him to look at her and he abruptly spins around, tilts his head and--

“ Argh! Merde! Merde , que se passe-t’il!” Marinette grabs her jaw as she cringes away from him, pained cries warbling from between her fingers.

He cursed. “Shit, I didn’t mean to!”

��Marinette wasn’t having it. “A simple ‘stop it’ or ‘cut it out’ would have worked just fine! Ah…”

“Are you trying to say I should have spoken up or something?!”

“Um, yes? I’ve been telling you this entire time to let me know if something's wrong, but you keep your mouth shut as though you’ve suddenly forgotten how to speak! Oh, except when you’re insulting me. Can’t forget about that, now can we? Tell me, does your selective mutism only break whenever you feel like being an asshole?”

“Oh, well excuse me, I’ve been saying that I’ve been fine only to be met with skepticism--”

“And rightfully so, because for the past several hours--”

“--so far be it from me that I can actually--”

“--been constantly out of it--”

“--to the point that I can see that my opinion isn’t--”

“--like you’re Insisting that you’re Superman or something!”

“You take that back!”

Marinette fiercely raised both hands and gave him the finger.

“What even is your problem,” he snarled. “Stop smothering me!”

“Smothering?” She scoffed. “You are literally still injured from being exploded . Forgive me for being a little more hands-on. It’s clearly something else, otherwise, you wouldn’t be so obtuse about this.”

Damian spluttered. “Obtuse?! How dare you! You’re the only thing I have a problem with here!” A lie. He had a lot of issues, but she was the most present one at the time.

That’s right. This was borne from a crisis of proximity. Damian is, indeed, precocious a precious child.

“Problem? I’ve been helping you, tending your wounds nonstop for the past twenty-eight hours! I’m supposed to be getting drunk off my ass with the rest of Paris, because, and this is important, I’ve been busy catching a super terrorist who is being tried as an actual war criminal. I haven’t seen you for nearly a year and suddenly I’m the problem?!”

Marinette stood up and towered over him, glaring.

“Bullshit! What’s up with you for real, Damian? And I want the truth if I’m going to be taking care of you like this for the next few months.”

He gaped. “Months?!”

She crossed her arms. “Well?”

Damian gritted his teeth and felt the tell-tale blush spread up his neck and find its way all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“Every time, you grab me, no, damn near manhandle me and you expect me to not have a problem with you? Not to mention you don’t know how to keep your lips to yourself!” He huffed, but Marinette was unrepentant.

“Seriously? Is that all?”

“Is that all…? That’s all you have to say for yourself?!”

“I’ve kissed you once. Once ! Is my grabbing you supposed to imply some sort of trend, buddy? No. I have had to grab you so you can sit still and get treatment, because, according to you, no hospitals . What do you take me for, a lecher?!”

“No, but would it kill you to tell me what you’re doing before you put your hands on me?!” He gestured towards his face.

“I can’t exactly see what’s going on if you hadn’t noticed,” he said fiercely.

“...yeah, that’s on me,” she sighed, losing tension. She sat next to him again, this time on his left side where he could still see her.

“Better?” He grunted, resigning himself since he didn’t really have an excuse to distance himself anymore. It was logical to just let her get it over with as soon as possible, but the humiliating shiver that would dance up his spine was too much an act to bear.

She went back to checking his head for injuries, with less fuss this time.

“...so,” she dragged the word out, her accent turning it into something completely different.

“Why did you bring up the kiss?”

“No comment.”

“I thought you would forget about it after such a long time, and it has to do with me so I was wondering if--”

He growled.

“Was that your first kiss by any chance?”

“No. Comment.”

~~~

taglist:

@frieddonutsweets @iamablinkmarvelarmy @mochegato @mochinek0 @jeminiikrystal @silvergold-swirl @kris-pines04 @eliza-bich @alysrose-starchild @theymakeupfairies

#daminette #maridami #maribat

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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years

Text

Nightmares

Warnings: Talks about his parents a little if that’s something that upsets you, but other than that, nothing.

Word count: 1928

Notes: Hey there! So, a little disclaimer: I don't know all that much about Duke, so I just really hope his characterization is good. I also don't know if Dick is the one he's the closer to, but... I know more about Dick than I know about the others so I though it'd be best to use him??? Also, I really think he's the one least likely to be perceived as a threat in general, because he seems to be the one who just... smiles the most. And Idk, it made sense in my head. Now that we got that out of the way, I hope you enjoy this work!

Duke blinked his eyes open. His room was still drowning in darkness, so he sat up as quickly as he could and turned the lights on, vision blacking out for a moment. His eyes hurt because of the sudden brightness, but that was better than the unlit environment, so he rubbed them for a second, hoping it would make it better. Slowly, he managed to keep his eyes open, and looked down at his bare legs and sock-covered feet.

He was alive.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

He was safe.

It wasn’t the first night it had happened. Or the second. It wasn’t even the tenth time that it had happened, and we’re only talking about one month. He ran a hand across his face, feeling how sweaty his forehead was, and then slipped out of bed, walking towards the bathroom as his legs still felt a little bit funny, too light to properly carry his body around. He supported his weight on the sink, not wanting to face the mirror just yet.

The cold water helped. Duke felt grounded again, and, unfortunately, more awake. He sighed, face still dripping wet. Sleeping now would be near impossible. He stared into his own reflection.

“Why am I this stupid?” He shook his head, murmuring to himself “It’s just a dream.”

Letting go of the sink, he patted his face dry, coming back to bed. He checked the time on his phone. 3:41.

“Fuck.” All that he managed were four hours, if that, of sleep. Again. And he was no Tim Drake, meaning that functioning during the day would be a big problem.

He laid his head on the fluffy pillow, staring at the ceiling for a moment. He wondered what to do.

He knew that all of the other bats had the same type of issues. Mostly because some of them would wake up screaming in horror, even when they were just taking a nap on the couch. Jason, Damian and Tim had them like that. Cass and Dick never screamed, but they always shot awake quickly and broke down sobbing soon after. He was sure Bruce had them too, but he never saw the man sleeping. He just put two and two together, noticing how his mood changed and how much sleep he seemed to be getting, and assumed he would get them just as often as any of his kids.

He knew all of them would wander into each other’s rooms at night, when they couldn’t sleep. As usual, not because he had been told, but because he had seen Damian and Cass leaving Dick’s room in the morning way too many times. The same thing happened to Tim and Jason, who seemed to often invade the other’s space. But that didn’t stop both of them from searching for Dick frequently as well. And the older boy would, occasionally, be spotted leaving Jason’s room.

He wondered how that worked. If they had a code, or a calendar, any sort of system that had been set up in the past.

He wished he was part of that system.

He checked the time again. Two minutes had passed.

Time was ticking too slowly. He was tired, but sitting alone in the dark was definitely not a good idea right now.

He’d have to ask for help.

Duke swallowed, analyzing his options. Damian was an angry menace, so he was off the list. Cass was scary and the one member you most definetly don’t want to piss off, which meant the risk was too great. Tim wouldn’t be such a bad option, but if he wasn’t out on patrol then he’d be working on one of his projects or homework, in a coffee induced mania. Which meant no. Jason was nice. They got along fine. But still, there was something about him that was always on edge, a little too wild, unpredictable.

Which left out one option. Dick Grayson.

And he was not exactly a great one either.

The teen swallowed.

“Well, it’s now or never, Duke.”

He stepped out of the bed and walked to the man’s door. He stared at the wood’s detailing for a longer time than what he had originally planned on. He raised a shaky hand and gave it three weak, quick knocks.

“Hm...?” Comes the answer.

“Uhm, Dick?” Duke asks “Sorry to wake you, I just...” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. There was some shuffling on the other side of the door, before it was swung open carefully.

“Hey there.” Dick smiled, blue eyes half closed and voice still raspy as he leaned on the doorframe “Can’t sleep?” Duke shook his head “I see. Come in.” Dick gesture him to enter. Duke noticed he had a nightlight on, making the room dark enough to sleep, but light enough to see in “Want me to turn on the lights?”

“No, this is fine.” He answered, watching Dick lay down again. The older man tapped on the bed slightly. Duke didn’t quite get the message.

“Duke. You can sit.” Dick said gently.

“Oh. Right.” He nodded.

Dick studied his movements as he carefully sat down, back towards him.

“Duke,” He asked, pushing himself up on his elbow “What’s going through your mind? Like, right now?” He asked “Be honest.”

The teen sighed.

“That I shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t have woken you up. I’m sorry. You’re always working so much, I shouldn’t be so selfish, you need to sleep, and...”

“Okay, calm down.” Dick sat up next to him, shuffling to throw his legs off the bed “Why did you come here?”

Duke winced. He regretted everything and wished he had just dealt with it by himself.

“I-I had a nightmare and I couldn’t sleep.” He answered “I’m sorry, I know that’s not your problem, I should just...” He tried to get up, but felt Dick’s hand on his shoulder and stopped.

“Hey,” He called, calmly “Don’t say stuff like that. You’re my brother, Duke. I’m here to help.” Duke looked into the other’s eyes, bright blue lights staring into his soul “Okay?” Duke nodded “Good.” He rubbed his back a little, and Duke slowly eased into the touch “Something tells me this isn’t the first time you had a nightmare.” Duke bit his lip “That’s okay. Why didn’t you ask for help?”

“I... I didn’t think I could.”

Dick tilted his head to the side.

“Why not?”

“I mean... You guys seem to have your system or whatever. I didn’t want to get in the way.” He answered, staring at the floor. Dick frowned, confused.

“System?”

“Yeah,” He answered “I’ve seen you guys waking up on each other’s rooms and all. I know you must’ve worked out a way of... I don’t know. Helping each other, I guess? And I didn’t want to cause some sort of imbalance.”

Dick went quiet for a while, thinking.

“Duke,” He started “We don’t have a system.”

“You don’t?” He looked at the other, who shook his head slowly “But then how does it...” He gestured vaguely, trying to convey a message. Dick grinned.

“Whenever one of us can’t sleep, we go to someone’s room. That’s all there is to it, really.” He explained.

“But... What if someone walks into a room where someone else is having a rough time too? Like, what if Tim goes to Jason and he’s also having a nightmare or an insomnia espisode? Or if Damian comes into your room but Cass is already here?”

Dick shrugged.

“I don’t know how the others deal with it, but if I’m having a nightmare when someone comes in, it’s a relief for me too. And the beds are big enough to fit three or more people.”

Duke thought for a moment.

“So there is no system?”

“Nope.” Dick answered “And just to make things clear: you can knock at my door whenever you need to, alright?” Duke nodded “Great.” He smiled.

It made Duke feel at home. The nightlight kept the room in a comfortable gloom, and nothing here seemed threatening or dangerous. A big teddy bear was sitting on a chest of drawers, surrounded by three smaller plushies; a cat, a bat and a bunny. He had too many pillows on the bed, and every piece of furniture was painted on the lighter side. A real contrast to the man who jumped from buildings and kicked faces for a living.

“So... The bad dream,” Dick started, carefully “What was it about?”

“My mom and my dad.” He looked down again “I was... They were chasing me. I was in a forest and... They didn’t know who I was, and I was running, it was dark and I kept stumbling, falling, tripping on roots and stones... And then...” Duke made a choked sound, and covered his mouth, feeling embarassed.

“It’s alright.” Dick whispered, hand rubbing circles on his back again.

“And then... The Joker was there. And the forest was gone. But I don’t know where I was, it was so dark and I couldn’t see anything, except for him. I tried to run, but I was paralized, in that weird dream way, you know?” Dick nodded, and Duke nodded with him “Yeah. And he didn’t say anything, he just... laughed and laughed and laughed... And then I woke up.”

“That sounds awful, Duke.” He said, soft eyes and understanding voice.

“It... It was.” He felt an arm across his shoulders, and he leaned into Dick’s chest. His shirt smelled like laundry detergent.

“Yeah. But you’re safe now. I’ve got you.” The man gave him a squeeze, resting his chin on the top of his head.

“I- I know.” He answered “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They stayed like that for a while, until Duke trusted himself to speak without crying.

“How do you...” Duke started, and Dick let go of him so they could properly talk “When someone sleeps here, how does that happen? Like, where... Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“In the bed?” Dick tilted his head again.

“But... Isn’t it, like, weird?”

“Oh...” He raised his eyebrows “I see. Not really, no. Usually we cuddle, but that’s not mandatory. Cass is the only one who isn’t always wanting to, but even if she doesn’t want to touch me, the bed is big enough so that we don’t have to. Look, if you want to, you can use the couch, but I strongly suggest against it.” Duke looked at the small sofa placed against the wall. He’d have to curl up in a weird position to sleep in it.

“I think I’ll take the bed.”

Dick tapped his back slightly.

“Good choice.” He smiled, turning around to lay down again. Duke mimicked the action, placing his head on the pillow. Dick’s were much softer and fluffier than his. Not in a bad way, just different.

It felt odd. The bed smelled distinctly like his brother, but he was unsure on which product had that effect; the aftershave, the cologne, the deodorant, the shampoo, the hair pomade... Maybe a combination of all of those. Weirdly, it felt comforting. Safe.

He turned around, laying on his side and curling up a little, like he always did. Dick had his back turned to him.

“Hey, uhm, Dick?” He whispered.

“Yeah?” The other murmured sleepily.

“I was... M-maybe... If we... Like, would it... U-uh...”

Dick turned around.

“It’s okay.” He said, wrapping his arm around the other “Like this?”

“Y-yeah.” He stuttered “Thank you.”

“No worries, baby bro.” He grinned “Good night Duke.”

“Good night.”

32 notes · View notes

oh-mother-of-darkness · 4 years

Text

asks (26)

@spickerzocker said:

hey there! just a heads up that i tried to click on the "why i don't ship" explanation link in your faq and it says that there is no post with that url/it's generally broken. also your "a conversation about recovery" thing is beautiful and hurts in the best way and i love it. have a nice day!

Yes, I intentionally took that link down awhile ago, and last night I went and updated some of the tabs on my blog. Here are my basic thoughts:

I wrote that link years and years ago, while I was first navigating the internet and while I was still figuring out important things about my own identity and opinions. I ran my blog differently back then, but by the end of the first few months, I knew I was uncomfortable with shipping.

As people began to interact with me and my work, I told them over and over again no, I don’t want to talk about that, and I don’t want to write about it, and it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t think that was a common position to take at the time, so it wasn’t what people expected from me.

During those years, I felt like I had to justify myself and give a valid explanation. I wrote that post explaining why I had that boundary, and I put it in a place where anyone could find it.

I said no when people asked, let them make jokes about it, and made jokes about it myself in response. As time went on I got more and more exasperated when I had to repeat myself. I wrote definite rules into my ask box, request tab, and FAQ. People still asked. I wrote it into my description. People still asked.

The truth is yeah, there’s a pretty simple explanation for my discomfort. It makes sense. It’s easy to understand, and most folks think it’s a “good enough” reason to leave me alone. The difference between young-me and current-me is that I no longer feel the need to justify myself.

None of y’all need to know why I set the boundaries that I set. My explanation isn’t relevant, and I’m not obligated to give it. I said no. That’s enough.

I think a good number of folks remember my explanation from the past, and I don’t mind that at all. There may be a time where I talk about it again, in a more appropriate context, so I guess we’ll see.

That’s a lot of information in response to a very helpful ask. Thanks! The link is gone now, and I’m so pleased that you enjoyed the fic :)

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Anonymous said:

U suck

Kenza sent this anon as a joke. She’s right, and I thank her.

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Anonymous said:

I'm a doctor and ive seen it all.....but the milk fic made me gag

Excellent

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@wingedskyes said:

Ah. Wait. I wasn't on anon....uhm. oh well. It's fine. I like milk and am not ashamed. 😆

I don’t think I received another message from you actually, but I too like milk and I’m glad we’re on the same page

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@thelittleredheadedmusician said:

To add to the milk discussions: my best friend from home and best friend from college have each finished a gallon a milk by themselves within 2 days.

I do that too, every once in awhile. When the milk craving hits it’s a gallon a day

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Anonymous said:

"TIM! POUR HIM. A GLASS OF M A L K!"

Hold on I have to google some things

Yeah this is funny

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Anonymous said:

I have read that milk fic three separate times and every time I’m laughing just as hard as Tim and dick by the end it’s just so excellently executed and builds so perfectly that by the time dick cracks I’m ready to go too and I just lose it it’s amazing I love it

Awww anon I’m so pleased :)

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@the-smartass-under-the-mountain said:

Just wanted to drop by and say your recent fic with Tim antagonizing Damian with increasingly outrageous milk concoctions had me giggling. It was so cute and refreshing to see Dick enjoying Tim's little prank. And Bruce's reaction to just... walk away was fantastic!

Thank you! I’m always so thrilled when y’all think the jokes hit

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@njtheboywonder said:

I havnt really enjoyed a fic in years, but i stopped to read ur fanfic with tim drinking milk just to fuck w dami amd it made me smile. Thanks, for writing it.

Oh that warms my heart <3

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@bruciewayneisbatman said:

Tim Is totally the guy who would drink ridiculous amounts of dalgona coffee to annoy damian, according to that fic.

Had to google that one, but I guess so huh

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Anonymous said:

(diff anon) but that birthday fic was so good oml and you have opened my eyes as to the batfam in quarantine this is such a Concept

We’re all here dying..... together...

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Anonymous said:

Happy birthday! 🎉 or belated! 🎂 thank you for being in the fandom. 😊

Anonymous said:

To anon! Sorry. I forgot to add that! Anyway, thanks to them we get a lovely fic. I hope you have many more birthdays! 😊

Message for you anon

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Anonymous said:

Your writing gives off good vibes

Hear that guys I “passed my vibe check.” Is that what the youth say these days? I am an elder now and I do not know

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Anonymous said:

finding your blog while being relatively new to batman fandom is such a bliss. your batfam content especially is *chef's kiss* amazing.

Thank you my darling :) I’m glad you’re here

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Anonymous said:

Best line in a fic? Hard to pick just one, but this particular one from "Just Desserts" by fyeahbatmanandrobin on Tumblr is one of my faves: “Anyone else would be hard-pressed to provide the particular brand of excitement you bring to my life, Dami.”

@noisypaintersong said:

For the line thing: "I don't doubt it. Bruce Wayne, the unexpectedly normal guy wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a superhero wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a fake socialite wrapped in a businessman wrapped in a secretive billionaire." He paused. "…You're the seven-layer burrito of Gotham," he pondered. - Barry to Bruce in 'Of Friends and Foes' by Paganpunk2 on FFN. It's one of the funniest things I've read someone say to Bruce LOL

@kirakats submitted:

Anonymous said:

“I do know that according to everyone else, there is no chance, no future, no universe where I stay a hero.” Describes my frustration with the way DC treats Damian so accurately. Let the kid be a hero dammit.

Thanks! That’s really helpful. I’ve got a decent answer to my question now.

@kurawastaken submitted:

So this is Kenza retaliating against me for the milk fic. I very much hate tomatoes and specifically ketchup. This photo (1) is a nightmare and (2) fulfills its intended purpose.

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Anonymous said:

I love your blog!!!

And I love you

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Anonymous said:

quick question: how do you think jason reconciles with the fam?? i think in the comics they kinda just reboot and now he’s on better terms. but like what conversations happened, yknow??? (you’re doin great work by the way, it rips out my heart but it’s great)

This is an amazing question, and I’ll be thinking about it for the next bit, I think. That would be a really interesting topic to explore in depth

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@angel-gidget said:

*hugs you real tight* would you please send this to the first 10 people in your dash? Make sure someone gets a hug today and stay safe!

Oh thank you for the hug <3

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Anonymous said:

I hadn’t been aware of that Memphis petition, but I live in Memphis too (Altho I know you said you just grew up there so you may not be living here currently haha) so ig I just wanted to say thanks for bringing it to my attention!

!!!

I’ve been in Texas for six years now, ever since I started school, but I’m still in and out of Memphis for family purposes. Love the trash heap of my birth

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@damianwaynerocks said:

hey! any chance you know of any other dc heroes around damian’s age?

Sure! You could try Billy Batson, Jon Kent, or Maya Ducard

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Anonymous said:

hi! i don't know if it's okay to leave anons like these but ive been feeling down because my country has passed a bill that deprives us of lots of human rights freedom and i want you to know that i just found your blog through the damian/bruce + justice fic and it comforted me. im slowly going thru your works and so far they are all comforting. i love your stuff, thank you.

Philippines? I’ve heard some things, and I’m real sorry y’all’re going through that. I don’t know that there’s anything I could say about that to help, but I hope you’re finding joy somewhere

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@awesomeness-ofgaybitches said:

Tumblr hates you. The links in your bio and to your fic masterlist don't work on mobile. I'm sorry.

FUCK

#I'd like to also take this opportunity to note that at this time #I have blocked 7 people for variations on #okay no ships but what about sailboats??#but what about the TITANIC #here's a picture of the bat-boat tho #guess what kids it's not creative or funny #and I explicitly said that jokes will get you blocked #I follow through #asks

27 notes · View notes

thefightingbull · 4 years

Text

Puppy Love Part 4 Debriefing Dinner

Jason was sitting at the diner with his head pressed against the table. His dad and oldest brother Grant were across from him. “It couldn’t have gone that badly,” Grant tried.

“It went much worse,” Jason spoke directly into the table.

“Son, get your face off the table, you’ll get syrup in your hair.” Dad threw in. He did as he was told, mostly because he really didn’t want sticky shit from the previous diner getting in his hair. “What happened?”

“Lucky knocked over a vase full of flowers and a portrait of Bruce Wayne’s parents,” Jason moped as he ran hands down his face. When he saw the irritable look his father was giving him, he quickly added; “This fucking beast of a dog frightened Lucky, it wasn’t his fault.”

Grant grinned and took a sip of his coffee. “Your kids will have no discipline whatsoever. It will always be everyone else’s fault.”

Jason rolled his eyes and threw up a middle finger.

“What happened after?” Dad asked.

Jason scowled at his father. He knew damned well that Dad just wanted to know what discomfort he’d caused Bruce Wayne, aka Batman. His old man lived to rile up the caped “superheroes”. The sheer amount of pleasure he got from it was almost perverse.

“So, Bruce Wayne starts in on his interrogation once we’re all seated. Where are you from, what do you do for a living, easy questions, right?” His dad and brother nod. “Well they weren’t! Despite having prepared answers all my fucking life, I just blurt the first thing that comes to mind since I know me and Dad are heading out of the country soon.”

“What’d you tell them you do for a living?” Grant asked.

“Flight attendant.” Jason sighed.

Grant and Dad both laughed. “Dude,” Grant recovered first. “You know how to fly. Billy and I taught you! Why didn’t you just tell them you were a pilot?”

Jason blushed. “I told you, my mind just kind of… blanked.”

“Oh, Son,” Dad shook his head. “At least there is no way Bruce Wayne thinks you’re Nemesis.”

“Deadly mercenary by night, peppy flight attendant by day!” Grant laughed again. “Oh wow, Kid, you really went with flight attendant?” Jason leaned back against the back of his booth and crossed his arms. “Oh Joey’s gonna love this,” Grant continued. “I can just picture it now, big-bad Jace Wilson offering out little packets of pretzels and a cookie.”

“Go fuck yourself, Grant,” Jason sneered.

“Hey, now, that’s no way for a flight attendant to talk,” Dad threw in before the two idiots both busted out in raucous laughter.

Jason waited for them to settle down again. He just knew that by the end of the night Rose, Billy and Joey would all know about his lapse in judgement.

“Well, it worked though, right?” Grant asked a few minutes later as he wiped a stray tear from his blue eyes. “I mean, they bought it.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s what made it so much worse.”

“Oh?” Dad grinned. “What happened.”

“His little brother… Damian.” Jason snorted. “That little shit got all haughty and superior. ‘You mean to tell me you have an FBI agent for one brother, a successful composer for another, and a sister in college and all you attained to be was a stewardess? Once again, Dick, your taste in men has proven lackluster.’

“God I just wanted to knock him out of his chair. But then, the middle brother beat me to it,” Jason smiled. “That part actually went okay.”

“Sounds like the three of us,” Grant grinned. “Remember that time Billy brought that one lady over?”

Jason nodded and laughed. “Oh yeah! Audrey Curtis. You dumped pepper in Joey’s hot cocoa, but he thought it was me, so he flung mashed potatoes when I wasn’t looking!”

“It was a great food fight, one of our best yet,” Grant beamed proudly.

Dad shook his head as he scratched as his goatee. “Yeah, but Billy got back at all three of you little brats for ruining his date.”

Jason snorted as he laughed at the memory. “Itching powder in our underwear. Man… that was awesome.”

Grant nodded in agreement.

“You’d think the three of you little terrors would have learned,” Dad shook his head and took a drink of his own coffee.

“We’re Wilsons,” Grant reminded. “We’re too stubborn to learn our lesson.”

Jason couldn’t help but feel much better. Even if his own family had teased him a bit, it was nice to be around Grant, even nicer that he’d taken such a long drive to do it. Of everyone in the family, Grant hated road trips the most. Even a four hour one like the one he’d taken to get to Gotham was normally three hours and thirty minutes too long.

He felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out. It was just a text from Dick confirming their next date and where to meet.

“Oh, I know that smile,” Dad teased. “the current piece of ass is texting him.”

“Hey, what does this one do again?” Grant asked.

“He’s a vet,” Dad answered for Jason while he typed a quick reply. “He’s why your brother has a dog.”

Grant grimaced. “You aren’t going to keep it, are you Jace? I mean, you and Dad travel so much as it is, and dogs needs discipline and stability. You know, like a real relationship requires.”

Jason set his phone down and glared up at his brother. “I can handle it. Lucky’s very smart, he’s been super easy to train. Barely an inconvenience. As for Dick, he’s fine with the travel. We’re taking this slow to begin with anyhow.”

Grant rolled his eyes. “As if you’ve ever taken anything slow in your life.”

“He’s gotta point, Jace,” Dad smirked. “You go from flirting, to dinner, to sex within the same interaction most of the time. You want this guy to last and not be just another notch on that belt of yours, you need to think things through.”

Grant took a deep breath. “Maybe you should consider college.”

Jason cringed at how quickly Dad turned on Grant, but his brother clearly expected it as he faced their father. “Look, Dad. Joey and I took the news of Jace working with you pretty well I think,” Grant began. “But, it’s not a safe job and he’s risking a hell of a lot more than you are.

“And you,” Grant turned his eyes on Jason. “maybe adopting a dog and trying to make a real relationship with this vet guy is a sign that you’re not as happy working with Dad as you thought you were? Maybe sub-consciously you’re tired of this type of work. Maybe you want something more stable and structured.”

Jason immediately shook his head. “No, no. You don’t get to put this on Dad, Grant. I like what I do. I enjoy it. It’s challenging and fun and needed. What we do is crucial,” Jason stated firmly. “And I’m warning you right now, both of you,” he looked to each of them. “You convince Dad to stop working with me, it won’t change a thing. I’ll just work solo.”

Both men were silent for several moments before Dad sighed. “Jace’s right. How do you think he started in the first place? I couldn’t keep him from following me no matter what I tried. Even Billy couldn’t keep him home.”

Grant frowned. “You could do what I do, Jace. We’re crucial, too.”

“Too much red tape.” Jason answered honestly.

“Sound just like Dad,” Grant grumbled before taking a drink of his coffee. He seemed to have finished it off as he pushed it to the side and checked his watch. His eyes widened a touch. “I need to get on the road. I still want you both to knock this shit off, but it was really good catching up again.”

They all three stood up and got out of their seats before exchanging hugs.

Grant gave Jason a kiss on the cheek. “You ever change your mind, you’d make a great field agent, Jace.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you should be a military recruiter?” Jason teased.

“Better than a flight attendant,” Grant retorted.

#puppy love #Jason Todd #jason wilson #slade wilson #grant wilson #lucky wilson #Damian Wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #Tim Drake #humor #fluff #memories

23 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 5 years

Text

The Ric Grayson AND Talon storylines both end at the same time, and in the same way:

Great Grandpa Creeper Cobb successfully manipulates Ric into position to be brainwashed and become the Talon that Willie the Weenie has always wanted him to be.....this happens for like, two issues.

Then Grandpa Get Ye To A Graveyard Already fucks up....he accidentally brings Talon Ric within sighting distance of the Court’s latest crop of prospective Talon recruits, including a wee baby ten year old orphan being trained to be a future Talon.

And the essential corn kernel of Dick Grayson’s essence, deep down in his psyche, just fucking POPS like its Orville Redenbacher and someone just nuked it in the microwave.

And the real Dick Grayson comes SHRIEKING to the forefront of Talon!Ric’s brain, nothing subtle about it, and the next thing his Rancid Relative knows, he’s being fucking impaled by his great grandson’s blades as said great grandson, who is SUPPOSED to be docilely brainwashed, wtf, is already halfway across the room, diving into the mass of other Talons like they’re a collection of bowling pins and he’s a wrecking ball straight out of a Miley Cyrus music video, but instead of the caterwauling lyrics “I never hit so haaaaaaaard in love,” Dick’s accompanied by a soundtrack of him screaming:

“I WILL PROTECT YOU SMOL CHILD!!!”

As said smol child is just standing there, staring, like....dude, wut?

And then Dick finishes absolutely DESTROYING everything undead and nefarious in sight like he’s the Tasmanian Devil on meth, and he turns to said smol child and begins the process of Smothering, as his hands flutter all up and down checking for injuries but not touching, like:

“Did they hurt you are you alright you’re safe now cough once for I’m all good or punch me in the no-no’s if I’m making you feel unsafe, I will make sure you are totally safe from here on out, you are my baby now, I have decided, but like, only if you want to be.”

And smol child is decidedly overwhelmed but Man-Who-Speaks-Like-He-Has-Pixie-Sticks-In-Place-Of-Blood-Vessels seems harmless, if weird, and is definitely preferable to the weird Bird Men who kidnapped him off the streets and tried to teach him how to kill people and make death threats out of nursery rhymes. And he doesn’t have a lot of experience in OTHER subterranean lairs to compare this one too, but he’s decidedly not a fan, so when Dick asks if he would like him to take him to see Batman and Batgirl and Robin and other superheroes who can also reassure him there will be no more homework on How To Torture People Good, he’s like....”yeah I guess. If you want.”

And so Dick scoops him up with glee and takes off through the tunnels, yelling back over his shoulder: “Bye Greatly-Gross-Grandpa, hate you lots, don’t call, don’t write, you’re officially off my Christmas card list, hasta la neeeeeeeeeever.”

Thereupon swiftly grappling across the Bludhaven rooftops, yelling PARKOUR! just because he can and its fun, and its weirdly relaxing for his wee passenger, because look, this dude may be weird as fuck, but he’s clearly got the moves to protect him from the Undead Legions of Ornithologists and he seems too....fun to be evil, like not in the Joker kinda way like he’s seen on TV in previous foster homes where its like, jeez dude, try hard much, but more like an adult who just quit a soul-crushing cubicle-dwelling corporate-craphole job and has suddenly been reminded that the sky is blue, flowers smell good, and there IS a Santa Claus, Virginia.

Thus by the time they arrive at Wayne Manor, with no attempt made to hide where they’re going from his wee passenger’s eyes - Dick has already decided he’s keeping the kid, pending said kid’s approval but look, kids like him and he’s determined to bring his A game to the pitch meeting, so he likes his chances - said wee passenger disembarks in the Batcave but stays close by, clinging to Dick’s side in an ever so slight way that allows for plausible deniability later, once he gets his bearings and also his bravado back.

“Dick?!” Comes the chorus of voices from the rest of the family, who are all there already, by great coincidence and in great defiance of the crapfests in their own individual titles, but also who the fuck cares. And Dick puffs out his chest, cuz he’s putting on a good show for his new kiddo, first impressions are important...

“Tis I, fam! The one true Dick Grayson has returned! Huzzah!”

Look, being completely oblivious to his Greatest Dork Energy coinciding with his Times He Most Attempts To Be Impressive, is like, Peak Dick Grayson characterization, you can trust me, I’m a doctor.

And Tim’s like, “Why are you dressed like a Talon?”

And Dick’s like, “Isn’t the better question why AREN’T you dressed like a Talon?”

Which makes no sense but shhh, I’m running out of steam here, don’t question the atmosphere, just let it be.

And Bruce is like, “Who’s your friend?”

With like...designs and agendas already in mind, because said wee Talon-to-be is cute and adorable and bravely trying to act like he is not at all intimidated by his surroundings and is in total control of what’s going on like, he meant to be here, this is all according to plan, yes, excellent, everything is progressing nicely....

Which as everyone knows, are the three key essential traits Bruce looks for in prospective adoptees....

So Dick snarls and later blames it on residual Talon-ness, they’re very territorial bird...assassin....people....anyway, the adrenaline is still high and also he has swiftly become attached because whether kiddo knows it or not, Dick 100% credits him with the brainwash-breaking and thus when factored in with the cuteness quotient, what we have here is an instant recipe for Protectiveness slash Possessiveness that would be creepy and inappropriate if this wasn’t pure crack.

But crack it is, and thus Dick curls a protective arm around the kiddo like the lap-bar on a particularly turbulent roller coaster and applies G-Force sufficient to keep even Superman from prying him out of his hands - but in a gentle, non- ’crushing kinda way that might hurt the kiddo,’ even though physics doesn’t work like that, except look, these are CRACK PHYSICS, they can and they do work like that.

And he’s all, “I already adopted him, so back off, Bruce, I’ll cut you. But also hi dad, I missed you. In spirit I mean, like I had amnesia and then I was brainwashed so technically its probably a reach to say I missed anyone but just roll with it. Also I can haz hugs now, please?”

And then Damian apparates in front of Dick amid a cloud of Disapproval that’s really just a cover for OMG-I-Was-Without-You-And-It-Was-Terrible-And-I’m-So-Glad-You’re-Back-But-Also-Who-Is-This-Interloper-And-Why-Is-He-Stealing-My-Hug.

“Tt. Grayson. Your absence was...less than desirable. See to it that this doesn’t happen again. Also what is that and why is it here.”

“Aww, Dami, I’m sorry. I promise to install a “please have the nearest available psychic reboot my brain in case of future brain damage slash amnesia” clause in my living will, and soon as I get a free second, I’ll break the fourth wall and blackmail the DC editorial staff into declaring me off-limits for all death, brainwashing and/or kidnapping plots for at least the next four major crossover events. I have naughty pictures. They’ll cave.”

“Hmph,” Dami says. He resumes staring pointedly at the kiddo, who juts his chin defiantly and stares back while clinging more tightly to Dick, because he may have very little clue what’s going on, but he’s a quick one and has at least picked up on the fact that Dick wants him and this other kid wants Dick. Which combined with the rescuing and the kicking of bad guy ass means Dick is probably Quality and In Demand and Of Value, and thus he might as well stake a claim now and worry about whether or not to act on that or skedaddle later, once he’s got more intel. He’s a natural Bat, this one, but then, that’s probably why he was in Toddler Talon Boot Camp, he scored high on whatever weird aptitude tests they used to scope out talent, and by talent we mean murder-skills.

“Dami,” Dick admonishes then, “This isn’t an it, he’s a person, and he was recently traumatized so promise me you’ll be on your best behavior or at least your ‘engaging in shenanigans with Jon’ behavior. And he’s not competition, you’re my Dames and my little bro, and he’s potentially your nephew, which is a whole separate category and no threat to you and your baby bro status at all, so retract the claws. If anything, the real danger is Pops adopting him and thus supplanting you as the official Baby Bird of our generation, so make like an ally and help me get that dangerous “I’m gonna adopt this kid so hard” gleam out of Bruce’s eye before it gets any gleamier. We’re still only halfway through my tearful reunion and having to cut Dad before we even get to cake would be a major mood-killer, but I’ll do it, I swear. Also, get your Baby Bird behind over here and hug me already, I have two arms.”

Damian rolled his eyes but obediently disappeared and reappeared nestled against Dick’s other side in the blink of an eye. The proper application of ninja skills has always been the pursuance of hugs and cuddles. Thus sayeth the crack.

“Hey, I do get cake, right?” Dick asked suddenly, looking around dangerously. “I was amnesiac and also brainwashed, I deserve cake, TELL me there’s gonna be cake.”

“Well that answers whether or not we should be worried about this being an attempted infiltration or not,” Jason says, strolling over casually. “No impostor or brainwashing script-writer could ever duplicate the Essence de Dick so perfectly. Hey squirt. Welcome to the madhouse. I’m Jason, what’s your name?”

“Oh right,” Dick realized, cocking his head. “Hey, what is your name?”

“Really, Dick?” Tim sighed, fondly exasperated. “I realize you like to jump from A straight to Z whenever possible, but steps B through Y aren’t usually just mere suggestions.”

“It hadn’t come up yet,” Dick defended himself.

“Yes, why would it have,” Duke mused from where he was leaning over and snapping his fingers in front of Bruce’s eyes, in a futile attempt at tearing his gaze away from the viable adoption candidate within 20 meters from him. It was probably best that they get this adoption thing inked out and signed off on as soon as possible - it was the only thing that was definitively going to get that “Argh, I’ve spotted treasure ahoy” look out of Bruce’s eyes. And Alfred had been very clear :Bruce was forbidden to adopt any more kids himself until he got a better handle on juggling the six he already had. Which. The past year had...probably not met Alfred’s standards on, so it didn’t seem likely he’d be waiving that requirement any time soon.

(And nobody wanted to get in between the Unstoppable Force that was Bruce’s ‘must adopt all the orphans’ and the Immovable Object that was Alfred’s ‘must maintain at least a reasonable fascimile of order in this household, even if it is a total sham, appearances matter.’)

“Hey!” Dick protested. “I’ve been busy, okay? There was fighting and then there was parkouring and now we’re reunifying, and it wasn’t like I was just calling him ‘that kid’ in my head, I was calling him ‘my kiddo’ which is a perfectly reasonable identifier and thus more specific detail just....hadn’t been relevant yet!”

“So uh, bee tee dubs, what is your name, buddy?” Dick asked, looking down. His kiddo looked back up at him for a long, measuring moment, and then he shrugged.

“I’ll tell you in exchange for some cake. You said something about there being cake, but I don’t see any.”

Dick got misty-eyed at that. “See? He already prioritizes like me. This was destiny! Also, you heard my kiddo, do we not deserve cake? It has been a very long day, there was murder and mayhem and more. Also, my creeper great grandpa was there being icksome, and you know how much that weirds me out.”

“Come along, Master Dick,” Alfred said then, appearing out of nowhere thanks to his Bat-Butler Magic. “And your young charge as well. I already have your favorite baking in the oven and it should be done shortly. Lemon meringue with raspberry layers.”

“That’s disgusting and I will not participate in any ceremony that treats that as part of a celebration instead of just a weird kind of laxative,” Jason said loftily, though it escaped no one’s notice that he was the first to the stairs.

“Shut your facehole, its delicious and amazing and you will like it or I will kick your ass,” Dick said, equally loftily.

“Boys,” Bruce said with a long-suffering sigh, as the threat of brotherly bloodshed was enough to finally shake him out of his orphan-induced stupor.

“At MARIO KART. I will kick his ass at MARIO KART, ugh, jeez, B, why do you always assume the worst of us?”

“Precedent,” Tim said dryly.

“Who the hell asked the Oompa Loompa Brigade to weigh in with all ninety of his pounds?” Jason called back from the top of the stairs.

Cass came up on Dick’s left, where the kiddo was one half of the sandwich made by him and Damian on Dick’s other side. She smiled down at him when he directed his still very wide-eyed gaze at her, landing on her after his latest sweep of the cavern and all its contained chaos, as if trying to take it all in - most likely in the hopes that if he could manage that, somehow the last 72 hours of his life might suddenly make sense. He really was adorable.

“Don’t worry,” she beamed at him, reaching out to pat him comfortingly on his shoulder, right above where Dick’s arm was still curled around it like a warm blanket - albeit one with the tensile hold of a python. “They’re all crazy, but only in the good ways.”

Duke scoffed as he slipped ahead of them and started taking the stairs two at a time. “It’s funny how you say that like you’re some kind of exception to the rule.”

“Bold words, little brother,” Cass called after him. He only shouted back from the top in a booming voice, his words echoing down the narrow stone stairway dramatically.

“Am I not Batclan?”

“Oooh, is that a new thing we’re doing?” Dick asked excitedly. “Somebody catch me up, I demand context. I smell a story there.”

“It was Jason’s fault,” Tim said automatically. Dick nodded.

“Sure, that tracks. Continue.”

Bruce trailed after his brood of batlings and birdlets, sidling over to where Barbara was waiting for the elevator. The latter having hung back to watch the commotion with the air of one taking notes for repurposing in the form of future blackmail material. Her ever extending network of spies and informants made so much more sense, suddenly.

He cleared his throat while they listened to the hum of the elevator’s machinery as it descended to their level.

“I wasn’t really thinking of adopting the boy,” he said. Not at all sullenly, nor with a trace of defensiveness to be found.

“Of course you weren’t, Bruce,” Barbara said. She patted his arm fondly, with all the conviction of a kindergarten teacher whose student was attempting to claim innocence on the matter of a paint disaster perfectly matching the paint stains on his hands.

“I wasn’t,” Bruce muttered as she preceded him into the elevator.

Why did nobody ever believe him?

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sanjayyyy-13 · 6 years

Text

Frickle Frackle Time!

Bonjur! My fellow humans. This imagine was requested and you can obviously tell which ask this was from. It’s about the batboys and sexy time with them. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Bruce:

Everyone thinks he’s really rough and dominate in bed but it’s not true. With you he’s very passionate and caring, sensitive even. He doesn’t like to just fuck, that’s not his style. He’s really loving and will take his time exploring every inch of your body and giving you all the love you deserve. He goes at a somewhat medium pace at the beginning and then tends to go super fast and deep when you both are about to finish.

Bruce doesn’t do a lot of teasing but definitely won’t mind when you do it to him. You usually strip tease him just to test his control and to see if the Batman can resist himself. But if you have been teasing him for a long time he will push you on the bed and take his sweet time with you, leaving you a writhing, begging mess underneath him. Honestly, you teasing him is one of his turn ons.

After you guys are done, (basically after so many hours of the frickle frackle) he loves it when you both just cuddle with him spooning you. Bruce puts one hand over your body and the other plays with your hair as he whispers “I love you”. Usually it’s just pillow talk after that. You both fall asleep after that and it’s honestly very cute.

Dick:

Bro, this guy can go on for hours and hours. He is like a fricken bunny and can go on for so long. He has such a high libido and regardless of wherever or whenever he will always be down to do the dirty. He loves it when you are dominant because it just makes him feel really hot but don’t dismiss the fact that he can dominate you in a matter of seconds. He has a quick pace but won’t finish until you do.

This boy manipulates you into getting rough by teasing you. Whenever he’s making out with you he pulls back for a little bit to see your reaction. You always get pissed at him and he just smirks. Usually you push him on the bed so he has no way to escape and continue to kiss him. He loves it when you do that because it usually signifies that he’s gonna get treated real well tonight. This boy obviously has a leg kink and most definitely loves it when you wrap them around his waist. He also loves just stroking them and feeling how smooth and soft they are.

When you both finish (multiple times) he just places you on top of him and hugs you tightly to his chest. Your bare body on top of his usually gets him ready for another round. However when you both are tired out, he loves it when you lace your fingers with him and just chat about life. Usually he says “That was the best sex we ever had”. You roll your eyes as he chuckles and you give him a quick kiss and roll off of him to clean up. “Don’t go! You feel so good” he whines. “I’m having a shower Dick. But your always welcome to join me” you say seductively. As usual Dick eagerly leaves the bed and excitedly follows behind you. Man, the fucking never ends.

Jason:

Oof, this guy is a sex god. He is so good at everything and is so fricken sexy. If he gives you that lusty look, your panties be dropping. This boy can go anytime and anywhere. He always feels horny in your opinion. When this guy is in bed he loves to dominate you. That’s just how he rolls. However he definitely loves it when you whisper to him “You’re gonna be my bitch tonight, Jay”. Those words always seem to rile him up. He has a slow and tantalizing pace at the beginning just to tease you, and then he finishes with deep and harsh pounds.

Jason has a variety of kinks that are hot and sexy. First off, he loves it when you send teasing pictures to him when he’s on patrol because he know the wait is totally worth it. Secondly, he loves it when you praise him during the frickle frackle, words such as “Oh, jay. You’re doing so great.” And “Damn, you are an animal” always make him happy and encourage him to go faster. Thirdly, he absolutely loves teasing you because it always gets you and him super horny. He usually slips his fingers down there very discreetly when you guys are in public. Lastly, he adores the noises you make. The whimpers and moans always send him over the edge.

After you guys are complete he loves watching you fall asleep even though you jokingly tell him how creepy that is. He just loves seeing you at peace because it brings out the happiness and joyfulness out of him. The way your eyelashes rest so peacefully on your cheek bones and your hair cascading on your face makes him fall deeper in love with you. Sometimes he gets really tired afterwards so he loves sleeping on top of you. His head resting on your chest and your fingers playing with his soft hair makes him fall asleep faster than any knockout poison.

Tim:

Nobody would think it, but he is an animal in bed. He just sets a harsh and demanding pace that makes you shiver and beg underneath him. The thing with him is that he rarely has time for a good lovemaking session (ew, I can’t believe I wrote lovemaking) so he just likes to have a quick fuck and get on with his work. But whenever you coax him to stay with you and go for another round it is always mind blowing.

Timmy is just to sweet that I doubt he would tease you, but you on the other hand. You love to tease him because it just makes him a stuttering and horny mess. It will start with longing glances and then touches in some inappropriate spots. (If you want a full teasing explanation check out this imagine) It always gets him really horny. He doesn’t really have a lot of kinks but he does enjoy it when you wear sexy lingerie or strip tease for him.

Sometimes he doesn’t really have time to cuddle but he will stay with you long enough to satiate your needs. He usually goes back to work after a quick fuck. But on the occasion he will stay in bed with you and fall asleep in your arms because god knows when was the last time he actually closed his eyes.

Damian:

He is a really great partner in bed because of his dominant style and teasing manner. He always makes you feel like a goddess because he praises you and transports you on cloud nine. He give the best hickeys and he knows it. Your body is often littered with them after a long night. He always sets a consistent pace and usually never finishes before you do. However sometimes when he is really tired he relies on you to set a pace.

He definitely has his kinks. From breath play to blindfolds, he is willing to try everything to see what both you and him like. He loves it when you are tied up so he can control everything about you. Also he loves being blindfolded because it gives him a sense of trust and an edge because he never knows whats coming next. If he is feeling really horny he will tease you in public and you get the message that he wants you. However if you tease him on public he gets distracted on whatever he’s doing and makes you pay for it later on.

He is the most loving partner afterwards and always makes you feel comfortable. He loves cuddling with you and tracing words or patterns on your body. Damian especially loves it when your hair is freely washed and he smells the sweet shampoo as he plays with it. He often gives you massages afterwards and tries his hardest to make you feel safe and secure with him. Though he is a rough lover in bed he is a sweet, sensitive soul who will do anything to make you feel content.

#batboys #batfamily #batfam headcanons #dc imagine #dc headcanon #bruce wayne and reader #bruce wayne #jason todd and reader #Jason Todd #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #tim drake and reader #Tim Drake #damian wayne x reader #Damian Wayne

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shattersstar · 6 years

Text

fake dating | part two

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Prompt: fake dating should be all fun and games, until gossips starts spreading and parties get overwhelming. Warnings: fluff, lil angst, a/n: such an original title lmao also this was way longer than intended whoops

part one

“Don’t you think you should tell them the truth?” You asked, stretching out on Tim’s couch. He had received a phone call from Bruce, letting him know there was going to be a party at the manor. He had brushed off the importance of the phone call till his father said, “You can bring a date if you’d like.” Tim’s eyes went wide as he realized that the consequences of this little game had extended outside of the intended audience. You had mentioned it casually before that he should tell them the truth, but he waved it off. “I’ll tell them we broke up at some point.” He had shrugged, finding the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. It didn’t bother you to keep it up, it was occasionally anyways. You had take stride with teasing Tim about it, to the point you found the term boyfriend rolled off your tongue seamlessly.

Sometimes you felt too caught up in the little charade you were acting out, you forgot how much fun it was to just talk to Tim. Or, even not talk. Often silence would fill the air, your music flowing from your earbuds was the only sound that echoed around Tim’s apartment. His large, way too expense for a college student apartment you had found yourself staying at more. When you had first met him was so hesitant about letting anyone into his apartment, especially his room, now he was considering giving you a key. When that thought first crossed his mind, it scared him enough to call Dick, suddenly remembering that you two were in fact not dating, and that this was a huge step in your not so real relationship that he had shared with his brother. Great. Tim had yet to mention that little event, because explaining that story meant telling you about the key, which started this whole thing anyways. Well in truth it was started by Tim’s lie, but yeah.

“What--no way they’d probably kill me if I did.” Tim explained, pacing as he decided to lay down some ground rules. No talking to his siblings alone, no talking to reporters, no talking to Bruce alone (the interrogative bastard), and no talking to Damian at all. “So shut up and be arm candy?” You questioned, sitting up. Tim opened and closed his mouth a few times, shoulders raising in an nervous shrug. “I mean I guess?” He said, voice getting a little higher. You rolled your eyes, hand reaching out and yanking Tim beside you.

“Eh, it’s fine. Any other rules? Like P.D.A wise?” You wondered, your legs extended over his lap.

“No?”

“Just thought your apparently ‘nosy as hell’ family might get suspicious if, y’know.” You watched realization wash of his face as he nodded along. There already was a casual platonic affection that suited you two well, but you wondered if it was enough. It was simple things, your hand meeting his when there wasn’t really a need to, you always had some limb touching him, he’d toy with your hair or the hem on your shirts. It was...nice, sometimes it felt like the lines were blurring, but it wasn’t the touches or the habitutations of lovers.

“Oh, yeah. Well I guess we need some ground rules. And a congruent story.”

“I think an adjacent story will do just fine.” You snorted, laughing harder at Tim’s deadpan expression. Once again you had him wondering what the hell he had gotten into.

The party started a seven o’clock promptly, so you two showed up half an hour later. Tim’s hand found the bend in your arm, helping you up the manor steps. He had already told you five times how nice you looked, a little awestruck by it all. You smiled each time, returning the compliment, while also reassuring him it’ll be fine. Tim wanted to believe you, he really did, but he swore he was going to pass out when Alfred opened the door. He greeted you warmly, quick to get to business. “So, how did you two meet?” The older man asked as you shrugged off your coats. The story you had come up with quite easy to remember as it was essentially the truth. “In class, I needed help with an assignment and someone suggested I asked Tim.” You explained, fingers finding his innately. “And how is school going for you Master Timothy?” Alfred inquired, someone must of told him about Tim missing school. “Fine, Y/n’s been helping me catch up on what I missed.” Alfred hummed thoughtfully, excusing himself.

You both let out loud sighs, laughing as you did. You made your way through the party, leaning close as you spoke in hushed voices. You were stopped on occasion by someone complimenting the house or the party or asking some general question. You always wondered if Tim had some socialite alter ego, but he seemed genuinely uncomfortable as the minutes rolled by. You knew that this was a recipe to overwhelm, and you hoped that the way your hands would wrap around his arm, head resting on his shoulder wasn’t making it worse Or how brushed your nose against his cheek didn’t add unneeded anxiety. And in truth Tim couldn’t decide either. There was always something comforting about your presence, your smile stopped the hurricane of thoughts that rushed his mind, and your voice soothed over everything that made him dizzy. Yet those thoughts were of you, and you were the reason he was dizzy in the first place. Tim had blamed a lot of things on what your relationship had become, but only now he realized it was him that instigated this all, and made you two whatever the hell you were.

He was grasping at straws for some answer when you nudged him. You had avoided his family for the most part, although Bruce had seen you. Tim’s hand clammed up against yours, his jaw clenching. You stopped in front of him, chests facing each other as you grasped both his hands. “Just breathe you idiot.” You chided, bringing his intertwined hands to your lips. You kissed his knuckles, lipstick staining his skin. Tim nodded, forcing out a few deep breaths. “You ready?” You asked, pulling his arm around your waist.

“I am now.” He hummed, leading you towards his adoptive father. You introduced yourself, forcing your nerves out the window for Tim’s sake. Bruce eyed the two of you in a way that went over your head, but Tim could see the gears turning in his head. “Tim can I talk to you for a second?” Bruce suddenly said, nodding towards the kitchen. “I’ll be in the bathroom.” You stated, about to drift from his arms, but turning back to press a kiss to the corner of Tim’s mouth. It wasn’t something you agreed on, but it felt right. Tim eyed you for a moment, only snapping back to reality when Bruce cleared his throat.

You made it passed the other guests, enjoying a small breather. You smiled smally at the women chatting by the mirror. You ducked into a stall just to get away from everyone. You scrolled through your phone, texting a few friends while wondering what Bruce had to talk to Tim about. It made your stomach lurch at the thought of it being you, Bruce telling Tim how he didn’t approve of you. As that thought danced across your mind you swallowed heavily, that would be the perfect way to put an end to this facade, yet it left your heart yearning for something beyond its grasp. You buried your face in your hands for a moment, acutely aware of your makeup. You shook off the racing thoughts, and tried to ignore the blood thumping in your ears as you slipped out the door. You wandered back in the direction you last saw Tim, walking straight into someone.

“Sorry about that.” You forced a laugh, your erratic heartbeat not slowing when Dick turned around.

“It’s alright--oh hey Y/n, how are you?”

“I’m fine, and you?” You said, putting on a smile that anyone could see through.

“Good, looking for Tim huh?”

“Yeah have you seen him? This really isn’t my crowd and I think Tim said he was tired.” Dick hummed in response, checking his watch.

“Last night was pretty rough.”

“Uh yeah I guess.” You were about to ask what he meant when you felt someone grab your arm. You nearly toppled over as you bumped chests with the man who was just on your mind.

“Excuse us.” Tim said to his older brother, who raised a brow at you. Tim had let go of you, but you still followed behind him, his shoulders tense.

“Are you alright?” You asked, stopping him.

“I wanna leave, I just--I can’t think.” You nodded, turning him to face you. And in truth Tim was anything, but alright. A few nights ago while on patrol Dick had asked Tim if he had told you about his vigilante life. Tim couldn’t bring himself to say no as it felt like he was really shutting you out. But, Dick being the gossip he is, had somehow allowed the information to get back to Bruce who had just spent the last ten minutes lecturing his son. Tim still couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth, because that truth had now died. You and Tim weren’t just friends, and you both knew at some point the line of pretending you had drawn was erased. You brushed his now disheveled hair from his face, hand slipping to his cheek. “I don’t want you to drive when you worked up.” You mumbled, knowing that Tim’s focus tended to scatter when he was overwhelmed. “Can we go outside at least?” You nodded, letting Tim lead you to the backyard. He shrugged off his suit jacket, he felt overheated, and he also knew it was cold tonight.

You sat on the steps, his jacket hung over your frame as he rested his head on your shoulder. The moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the pristine garden. It’s normal vibrant green was replaced with a dark one, almost black. Your eyes trailed over the sky, letting Tim calm down. You wanted to ask what had happened, but decided to leave it be. He’d tell you if he needed to. “Things have changed huh?” You found yourself saying, the sound of the party faint.

“Yeah.”

“For better or worse?” You asked, staring ahead. You felt Tim’s head raise, and his gaze shift to your side profile. You two had been dancing on a fine line, and it seemed useless to act like it hadn’t been crossed. Especially since Tim didn’t say anything after you kissed him. Tim sniffled as a breeze blew passed, your shampoo caught in the wind.

“For better.” You relaxed, that same ever calming grin pulling at your lips. You hadn’t imagined you’d end up here, in love with the quiet boy who drove you insane when you had first met. You let the night wrap you up with hearts so full it was almost sickening. You ducked out of the party before anyone could stop you, slipping into his car. You flicked the radio off halfway through the drive back to Tim’s place, turning to face him.

“Hey can I ask you a question?”

“Uh huh.”

“When I was talking to Dick he said last night was pretty rough, what did he mean?”

Crap.

#anfakfnaknf #i realized now that i fucked up the title #three hours later #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #red robin x reader #red robin imagine #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc #writing

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camsthisky · 7 years

Text

Determined Ghosts

Part 1 | Part 2

ao3 | ff.net

Summary: A gala, supposed to be spent by eating cakes and wearing a pretty dress, goes wrong. But honestly? What doesn't in Steph's life? Still, they better figure this out before it's more than just Dick that's hurt.

Stephanie’s eating one of those tiny little cakes that absolutely is not enough in any way whatsoever when Tim walks into her line of sight, head craning this way and that over the crowd of people Bruce has invited into his home for yet another gala-party-thingamajig. And—dear god, the boy is short. He’s on his tip toes.

“Timmy, dearest,” Steph says, only a little bit mockingly, and Tim’s gaze snaps to hers, eyes wide and owlish, like he hadn’t even seen her standing next to the dessert table. Which. That’s not that worrying, considering that Tim works on like, less than two hours of sleep a night.

Maybe Steph can get Cass to arm wrestle Tim into going to sleep instead of patrol tonight. And she can casually suggest a movie night to Dick. Dick will jump on anything that involves family bonding time, and Tim’ll be out cold in no time.

“Steph?” he asks, and now he’s giving her a weird look, like he hadn’t even known she was here at the gala-party-thingamajig. Again, very possible. For a person who’s supposed to be one of the best detectives, Tim can miss the most obvious things. He blinks a couple times, seems to accept that she’s not some sleep deprived hallucination, and walks over to her. “Did you need something?”

“No,” Steph says, shoving the rest of the tiny—tiny. Steph is going to have words with Alfred later—cake into her mouth. She swallows and raises an eyebrow. “Did you need something?”

Tim shrugs, head swiveling to look out over the crowd again. “I’m looking for Dick.”

“He was over by Damian earlier,” Steph says. “I think the brat brought his sword, and Bruce refused to deal with it. By default, it was Dick’s problem.”

“No, I know that,” Tim says distractedly. “I was standing right there when Damian started swearing at Dick. It was hilarious.”

“Yeah, you sound like it really changed your world,” Steph snorts.

Tim wrinkles his nose. “That was almost an hour ago, Steph.”

“Mhmm,” Steph says, debating whether it’d be a good idea to stuff the brand new purse that Bruce had gotten her the other day with the entire plate of mini-cakes and how much she’d get yelled at if she was caught. “And?”

“I saw him after that, though,” Tim tells her, following her gaze. He rolls her eyes when he catches on to what she’s planning on doing. “You know you can literally have Alfred make you bigger portions later, right?”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Timmy,” Steph says sweetly.

“It is not.”

“Is, too,” and then Steph finally makes her decision and starts grabbing a few of everything. Because if she’s going to stuff her purse, then she’s going to go all the way. Maybe Cass would be willing to share with her later. If not Cass, then definitely Dick. Speaking of, “Why are you looking for Dick, anyways?”

Tim blows out a heavy breath and sort of deflates, and it has enough umph to it that Steph stops raiding the dessert table to stare at him.

“Um,” she says.

Tim runs a hand down his face. “Sorry. It’s just—He went to go grab something from his room. Said it was important and just left.”

“And?” Steph prompts. “What’s so bad about that?”

“It’s been almost a half hour since I’ve seen him, Steph. And I’ve been around the room twice,” Tim tells her, and he leans back against a nearby pillar. He looks exhausted—well. More exhausted than usual, and Steph has half a mind to find Dick herself and tell him to tell Tim to stop worrying. And when he talks again, his voice is small. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Of course, it just so happens that that’s when the lights go out.

Steph drops her dessert-filled purse and grabs Tim’s hand, pulling him close. People start murmuring and muttering, and Steph has a feeling that Bruce’s gala-party-thingamajig has gone south real fast.

“Should we grab our uniforms?” she wonders, her voice soft enough that she’s sure only Tim hears her.

“No,” Tim says. “We don’t know if this is an attack or—”

The lights flicker. On, off. Someone screams bloody murder, and people start running for the exit as quick as they can. Someone shoulder checks Steph and she stumbles, but Tim tightens his hold on her hand and pulls her upright.

She whirls on him a second later, raising an eyebrow and shouting in order to be heard over the cacophony of panic, “You were saying?!”

“We still don’t—” He stumbles forward as someone bumps into him, too, but he stays on his feet. Pity. It’d have been funny to see him faceplant. Probably not the best time, though. He pulls her closer. “We still don’t know what’s going on!”

“Bruce?”

Tim nods. “Bruce.”

Somehow—holy shit, somehow—they make it through the throng of panicked people crowding the exits to the back of the room and over to where they can see Bruce standing with Damian, Cass, and the Commissioner. By the time they make it to them, most everyone is gone, and the lights are back to normal.

Dick’s nowhere to be found, though, and Tim and Steph share a look.

Bruce is staring at them. Steph knows that there’s no way he didn’t catch that, but he doesn’t comment on it. Yet, at least. Maybe it’s because the Commissioner is still standing there, or maybe it’s because they’ve got bigger things to worry about.

“Are you two alright?” he asks instead.

Tim nods and finally lets go of Steph’s hand, and she shakes it out, flexing it a few times, too. She hadn’t realized how hard Tim had been gripping it until he’d stopped, and she shoots him a concerned look he only grimaces at.

When she realizes that Bruce is still looking at her, waiting for her answer, she makes a face. “I’m fine, you big worrywart. Tim saved me from landing on my face, and I was disappointed by not seeing Tim land on his.”

“Hey!”

“I regret that it did not happen, as well,” Damian says, and he sounds seriously sad about it. Sheesh. Steph had forgotten that the brat had it out for Tim.

“Come at me and you’ll regret it,” Tim says, not a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Like you could take me down,” Damian scoffs.

Tim tenses, but backs off when Bruce clears his throat purposely, his eyes flashing dangerously. It’s so unsubtle and—God, after years, Steph still can’t believe Bruce Wayne can act like he does in public when all he seems to be is a big pile of brood and dad. She can see where Tim gets it from, at least. The brooding and acting part, not the dad part.

Next to Bruce, Jim Gordon sighs. “I’m going to see if I can round up a few of my men, Bruce,” he says. His rake over all of them, before they meet Bruce’s again. “I’ll be back soon, but it’s better that all of you stay together. Just in case.”

Bruce smiles, and Steph wonders if it’s painful for him. It certainly looks painful. “Thank you, Jim.”

And with that, the Commissioner’s gone, Bruce drops the smile, and it’s just the five of them standing there. Nobody says anything for a few seconds, and so Steph steps up. It’s like, her thing by now. She could probably major in it if she wanted to. She’s surrounded by so many emotionally stunted idiots that she’s got enough practical experience, after all.

Except Cass. Cass is great.

“So?” Steph says, folding her arms over her chest and raises her eyebrows. “Whatever’s happening, it better be good. I lost my dessert purse for this.”

Cass giggles, and Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. Tim doesn’t react much, but Damian scowls at her in confusion. It’s great. So many different reactions in so few words. She should get an award.

“I don’t want to know,” Bruce tells her. “Did anyone see anything?”

“Dick disappeared,” Tim says.

Steph elbows Tim. “You don’t know that. All you said was that Dick left to get something from his room. And technically that’s not seeing anything.”

“It’s the lack of seeing something,” Tim argues.

“Grayson is probably playing a prank,” Damian says, a somewhat adorable scowl on his face and—good god, does this child not know how to smile? Did he inherit Bruce’s gene of feeling pain while smiling? Someone needs to teach Damian how to have fun, and soon.

Cass frowns. “I don’t think so.”

Well, Cass’s word is law, after all. At least, it is to Steph. It’s a rare occasion that Cass has been wrong—though, it has happened before, Steph’s sure. She just can’t remember—and Steph doesn’t think now is one of those times.

Damian’s scowl inches closer and closer to a worried frown. “Then where is he?”

“Kidnapped?” Tim suggests weakly.

Steph grimaces. Dick’s a slippery one, especially when it comes to kidnapping. He’s got acrobatic skills he can use in self-defense, curtesy of his circus roots, and it’s an advantage that none of the other kids really have.

Something shatters upstairs, and the five of them freeze. And then, before Steph realizes it, Tim’s darting for the stairs, the rest of them just a beat behind him. They stop at the top of the stairs, and Steph gapes at what she sees.

“I think that I’m going to be sick,” she says, staring in horror at the giant puddle of blood soaking into the carpet. “Like, someone find me a toilet to throw up in, kind of sick.”

“You’re not,” Cass tells her, and Steph sighs.

“I’m not,” she agrees, but she can’t take her eyes off of the puddle. “But that is still disturbing. I sleep here, Tim.”

“Yeah, but you don’t live here,” Tim says, and Steph manages to take her eyes away from the scene in front of her to glance at him. He looks pale, and he’s got that look in his eyes, where his thoughts are racing a mile minute. It’s a little disconcerting, actually.

“I sleep here enough that I basically live here,” Steph says.

“Enough,” Bruce says, his eyes hard and unforgiving. “Cassandra, go get Jim. As of right now, this is a crime scene until we rule out otherwise.”

Cass nods, and she’s just about to leave when Steph hears a voice from down the hall. She frowns because—that was from Dick’s room.

“You guys heard that, right?” Steph asks. “Because if you didn’t, I’m out. Outtie 5000. Good-freaking-bye. Stephanie Brown has left the building and isn’t coming back. All that jazz.”

“I heard it,” Bruce says. And Steph can only watch as he makes his way down the hall towards his son’s room, Damian and Tim not even hesitating—or arguing—before following after him.

Steph shares an uneasy glance with Cass and she bites her lip. “What do you think?”

Cass doesn’t speak for a moment, but then she nods her head in the direction the boys had gone, and Steph can’t help but deflate in disappointment. Just a little. This is a little different than being in uniform, and she’s not happy that she’s doing this in a short sparkly dress Cass had picked out for her.

Cass looks at ease, though, and Steph appreciates it when her best friend holds her hand and squeezes. Steph smiles back.

“Guess we should go watch their backs, huh?”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Cass replies, and Steph’s smile grows a bit more genuine.

“Right, right,” Steph breathes. And then they skirt around the puddle. “Well. Might as well get on with it, right? I can totally use my heels as a weapon, right? That’s somewhat socially acceptable? Actually, don’t answer that. If it comes down to it, I’m doing it anyways. Watch out, thugs, I’m armed and dangerous with heeled shoes, and I can attest that getting hit in the face with one really freaking hurts. So watch out for—”

Steph stutters to a stop, both physically and mentally. She’s standing in the doorway to Dick’s bedroom, but—but.

“What happened?” she whispers to Tim, who looks about as clued in as she does.

His wide eyes flick to her helplessly before they’re back on Bruce, who’s checking Dick’s pulse. Dick, as it turns out, has been passed out on the floor of his bedroom, blood oozing sluggishly from a cut on his forehead. Bruce is trying to gently rouse him, but besides the steady up-down motions of his chest as he breathes, Dick doesn’t move.

He’s dead to the world.

Steph shivers at the mental image that brings up.

Damian scoffs softly, and Steph glances over at him, watches as he watches Dick with worried, but angry eyes.

From somewhere else in the manor, there’s another crash, and the lights flicker again.

Bruce finally looks up, meeting each of their eyes in turn, and says, “There’s someone in the house.”

And yeah. Steph’s done.

#stephanie brown #tim drake #bruce wayne #dc #camryn writes #halloweencontentwar #batfamcontentwar #determined ghosts

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literati42 · 7 years

Text

Batfam Week day 6: Paparazzi

Title: Warning Signs

Rating: PG 13 (a smidge of language and some discussion of suicide)

Genre: Angst, family, emotional h/c, a bit of humor

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

Description: Batfam week day 6: Paparazzi. The reporter for a gossip column uncovers something a bit closer to the truth than anyone could guess, leading the Batfamily to realize they should be worried about one of their own.

Note: The week is winding down, but I am still taking requests. Hit me with them.

Note 2: Read the end notes for more information about suicidal behavior and resources.

It started with a question. Tim should have known better, he realized, but the truth was he was so exhausted. Bruce gave a speech for the Gotham historic society, and Tim stood behind him on the stage. He applauded with everyone. Honestly, it was a great speech, good enough that Tim could focus on it even though a part of his brain was actively trying to make him fall asleep standing up. He felt a wave of gratitude when everything wrapped up, and the applause died until he saw reporters begin to ask questions. He groaned, “They're doing a Q and A.”

“You could sneak out, I’m certain no one would miss you,” Damian said beside him. Tim looked down and frowned. He recognized it for the kindness it was, even wrapped in Damian’s usual surly packaging. Tim nodded and slipped back behind the curtain. He was certain he made a clean get away, and let out a breath. He started toward the coffee shop on the corner. Tension built in his shoulder, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise.

Someone was following him.

Tim sped up slightly and slipped down an ally. He pressed his back against the brick wall and cautiously watched the passersby. There. He grabbed his pursuer by the arm and slammed the person back against the wall. It was a woman, with severe features and hair pulled into a ponytail. She raised a voice recorder. “Cynthia Lewis, Glimpses of Gotham.” Tim released her arm and stepped back, just a reporter. No, not even a reporter, a writer for that awful gossip rag.

“I’m not taking interviews today,” Tim said, stepping out onto the street.

“Your father sure does take self-defense training seriously huh?” she said, following. He heard her struggling to keep up with his quickened pace in her pumps. “What else does living with Bruce Wayne intel?”

“No comment,” Tim replied, stopping at the crosswalk as cars whipped by. Cynthia caught up then, looking at him.

“You seemed pretty angry back there. Do you get that angry often?”

He looked over at her. That question was not the usual ‘who is your father dating’ dribble he was used to. Does he get angry? He shook his head and looked back at the traffic light.

“Is that a no?”

“It’s a no comment.” The white walk sign lit up, and he started walking. For a moment she was not there, and then she caught up. He looked down to see she was now carrying her heels to keep up with him.

“You retreat from social gatherings a lot don’t you?”

He fell silent. She would eventually get tired of talking, he assured himself. But that was the moment she asked the question that started everything. “Where did you get the scar on your wrist?” Tim’s steps faltered for a second.

“No comment,” he finally said, he darted across the street, between cars, giving her no chance to follow.

_-_-_

Tim woke up the next day and headed toward the kitchen. He paused on the stairs and turned around. Damian’s door shut quickly. Weird, he thought. He shrugged and went on down. The smell of pancakes filled him as he opened the kitchen door and he stopped in his tracks. Alfred was cooking, Jason was helping, and Dick was sitting on the counter.

“What…is everyone doing here?” he paused when Bruce walked in. “Did a mission come up?”

“Can’t your brothers just come home?” Jason asked, licking batter off the spoon. “You hungry? You love pancakes right?”

“I do,” Tim said slowly, wondering if he woke up in the twilight zone. “I…just want coffee.”

“Not hungry? But coffee huh? You’re hitting coffee awfully hard lately. Sleeping okay?” Dick asked. Tim grabbed a mug and started to pour it, but Dick took it and filled it for him. He handed it back, and Tim took a long gulp. He definitely was not caffeinated enough for whatever weirdness was happening.

“My sleep is…normal,” he said, ignoring the fact that not sleeping was his normal. He sensed someone behind him and spun around, sloshing coffee. Damian stood there, hand on his hip.

“You’re so scrawny, Drake. You’re going to need a new costume.”

“What…the hell is happening?”

“Why, did I make you angry?” Damian asked.

“Do you get angry, often?” Dick added. “Like…easily?”

“Or have mood swings?” Jason said.

Tim sat down his mug. Bruce was watching, and even Alfred had stopped cooking.

“Someone is going to start explaining to be what is happening before I am forced to test you for Joker toxins.” Tim watched his family exchanging looks.

“So you probably don’t read Glimpses of Gotham,” Jason started.

“You read that? Why doesn’t this surprise me more?” Tim asked. Dick picked a copy of it off the counter and offered it over. Tim found himself staring at his face, on the cover. His eyes widened. The tagline read: “Tim Drake Suicide Scare? Find out why the son of Billionaire Bruce Wayne is dying to get away.” Tim flipped frantically until he came to the story. His eyes scanned the pages in record pace.

“All the warning signs are present…” he read out loud. The reporter referenced his quickness to get angry. His social withdraw—which the reporter indicated by him having no friends. The reporter referenced his recent loss of weight, how he was practically skin and bones. She mentioned the bags under his eyes as evidence of insomnia. As he read the signs she indicated that there was no evidence of having, he suddenly began to put together his family’s concern. The reporter could not know of his recklessness, the hopelessness, the anxiety…Tim shook his head. The biggest part of the story was clear. The scar on his risk as proof.

Tim lifted it, “You know this is from a case right?”

“Yeah,” Dick said, “But, consider the other things…Tim, we’re just worried about you.”

“This is an intervention.”

“Tim…”

“No, this is an actual intervention. You have to be kidding. Haha, hilarious everyone,” Tim said.

“Timber, we just want…”

Tim held up his hand to stop whatever his brother was about to say, “This is ridiculous.”

“You don’t sleep,” Dick said, “You aren’t eating well. You don’t have friends. Tim…we’re worried.”

“Well when you describe it, Dick, my life sounds horrible. Thanks.”

“Tim,” Bruce’s voice cut through their arguing. “This is something that needs to be addressed. We are not saying that this story is true, but if these problems exist, they need to be handled. If you are not at your best, and you continue to patrol you put yourself and this team at risk.”

“Right, well I would hate to get in the way of a mission,” Tim snapped. He left the room, letting the kitchen door slam behind him.

“Smooth,” Jason said, his voice loud in the suddenly silent room.

_-_-_

Tim went back to his room and sunk onto the bed.

“You wouldn’t use a gun, right?”

Tim jumped, “Damian, get out.” The kid instead walked further in.

“You wouldn’t though, not with how Father is about guns. You respect him too much.”

“Damian…do you find this funny?” Tim looked at him, “Because it’s not funny.”

“I am curious what substances I need to remove from your room,” Damian said. Tim paused and looked at him. Damian’s tone remained flat, but there was actual fear in his eyes.

“It’s just a story, just some paparazzi garbage. Dami, it’s fiction.”

“But you do all of those things, do you deny it?” His eyes flashed. “Can you swear to me that you would never, have never considered it. Swear it on our family’s honor.” For the second time, Damian’s words gave him pause. The kid said our family, including Tim with a single word.

“Look…it’s not where my head is right now, Dami,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair, “Things get dark in my head sometimes. I’m not denying that. Things have been piling up, and I guess, I’ve let things like sleep and eating slip. But I need you to hear me. That is not where my head is right now. It isn’t.”

Tim could see the words churning in his little brother’s mind. “So, we can agree I am vastly superior to you in many ways,” Damian said suddenly. Tim raised an eyebrow.

“This took a turn.”

“I’m a better fighter, I have significantly more skills,” Damian met his eyes, “So you should turn to me as back up. When you’re head gets dark.” Tim met his kid brother’s eyes, and he gave one nod, his voice failing him. Damian got up and ran out of the room, but the door did not shut before a hand caught it. Tim glanced up as Bruce walked in.

“We don’t need to talk about this.” “We do,” Bruce said, he walked over. “You misunderstood me.”

“I’m certain that was my fault too,n right?”

Bruce sighed in frustration, “Tim.” He stopped and started over, “Tim, I don’t want you in the field compromised because I care what happens to you.” He crouched down to look into the teen’s eyes. “If you’re hurting, that’s something I need to know. Not Batman, me. Bruce. Your…your father.” Tim found rebellious tears escaping and he turned, trying to hide them. He felt Bruce take his shoulders, and draw him in, resting a hand on his head. “I have you. We’ll figure it out, Tim. We’ll figure all of this out.” Tim opened his eyes and through his tears, he saw Jason, Dick, and Alfred standing in his doorway.

They would figure this out. Together.

PSA: For more information on suicidal behavior and warning signs click here

Also to get support, read stories of real people, and find ways you can help check out To Write Love on Her Arms

If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidality, get yourself or them help. There is no substitution for seeking mental health counseling. It works, it saves lives. There is no shame in that. Also please call the national hotline

Seek help, notice the signs, and support exists.

#batfamweek #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Jason Todd #alfred pennyworth #batfamily #batman #red robin #nightwing #red hood

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finallyaniguana · 5 years

Text

Watch The Eyes: a tour of revelation [12]

[11] masterpost ao3 [13]

Dick was looking at his watch at quarter past eight, standing outside of the classes hotel. The bus was due to leave at 8:30 am for a tour of WE staring at 9:15 am. The manor was very quiet that morning. Usually Damian was up and ready to go talking to Alfred in the kitchen but he must have missed him.

Tim was business as usual though. Wandering zombie like towards the coffee pot. They had tried to get him to stop his incredible caffeine intake a few times and everytime they realized just how inventive and sneaky he could be. Taking it directly out of his hand may lead to all the files being remotely deleted off your phone. Or just plain being punched in the neck (he was aiming for your face but he can't see without that caffeine). He was very clever at getting what he wanted. No wonder Bruce trusted him to act as CEO despite his age.

But Dick was the most personable out of all of Bruce's children. So here he was ready to lead this tour rather than an actual WE tour guide. It was important to Bruce that they be directly involved with the class they were sponsoring rather than just being a distant benefactor.

Not that Dick minded. He loved to spend time at home with his family and if that meant leading some teenagers around for a fee days, so be it.

He could see Caline in the lobby of the hotel, obviously waiting on the students to be finished with their complementary breakfast. They started to arrive in the lobby one after another some looking more awake than others. The Italian girl he remembered from yesterday was hanging tightly to the arm of a bespectacled girl with curly auburn hair. He saw that she looked a little worried. She suddenly turned to the one clinging to her arm. She said something he couldn't hear and the girl released her. The girl turned and ran to the elevator, going up. About ten minutes later, she came back with a dark haired girl, looking a tad bit disheveled, but ready to go.

Satisfied that she had everyone, Mlle. Bustier waved an arm and directed the class outside. They all followed, the afformentioned girl reclaimed her position clinging to her friend, all but shoving the other out of the way.

Dick shook his head at the sight. He remembered high school.

Caline smiled at the sight of their tour guide waiting outside for them.

"Okay, Max, Alix, Kim, Lila, Nino, Adrien, Sabrina, Mylene, Chloe, Juleka, Ivan, Nathaniel, Rose, Alya and... oh, what happened to Marinette?" she frowned.

A few of the students looked around at each other. Clearly they didn't see her. The blond boy looked like he was about to go back in to look for her when she made her appearance.

"Right here Mlle. Bustier! Sorry, I dropped my purse in the lobby," she looked apologetic.

The teacher gave a small chuckle before finally facing Richard with a smile.

"That's everyone!"

"Great! Now if we can all get on the bus, we'll head over for our tour of Wayne Enterprises," he said.

The students boarded, some more excited than others. Rose was bouncing in her seat. She and Juleka sat behind Lila and Alya. Lila was taking this time to fill the sweet girl's head with more lies about her supposed influential soulmate. With continued glances over at Richard, she started her story.

"I was texting my dear Damian all night, so I'm so sorry if I fall asleep in the seat Alya!" Lila said sweetly.

"That's okay! I can't blame you for wanting to talk to your soulmate," Alya assured.

"He invited me over tonight for dinner! I can't wait to see him after all this time," she stared dreamily out the window.

Marinette tried to hide her gag. Luckily only Alix noticed who in turn had to hide her smirk behind her fist. Kim, sitting next to Alix, noticed and gave her a sharp poke to the side, which of course started a poke war. Marinette rolled her eyes at her friend's competitive nature.

"We may just have to forgo our deal to wait until we graduate. Thank you all for being so supportive of me," Lila started to tear up, despite her dry eyes.

"I can't believe you're soulmates with Damian Wayne!" Rose exclaimed.

That got Dick's attention. How would she have figured out his identity so quickly? He gave a small glance back at the girl who spoke. She was quite short with blonde hair and blue eyes. He gathered that Damian's soulmate had blue eyes. But this girl wasn't the one claiming the bond and she seemed pretty attached to the tall girl she was sitting next to. So Dick looked to the seat in front of her to the girl with the glasses and the one that was hanging on her. Neither of them had blue eyes. He turned back around, disappointed and hoping he wouldn't have to confront the girl about her extravagant lie.

'Would it be petty to call out a child?' he thought. 'She'll be joining Damian's year tomorrow. If I don't say anything, he definitely will. Oo, maybe I should intervene before he does?'

Dick ultimately decided to monitor quietly and unless she said something that put a bad light on anyone in his family, he wouldn't say anything. He frowned to himself.

Finally the bus arrived at WE, pulling up to the side walk. He led everyone inside and checked in at the main desk, collecting a pass that would allow him to show the children different and more exclusive wings of the building. He brought up a bright smile he first directed at the teacher, who returned his smile, before turning and facing the teenagers in front of him. Their chatter died out slowly.

"I hope you all wore comfortable shoes for walking. At the end of the tour you will be given a pass for a complementary lunch. Alright! Let's get started."

Before Richard could even take the first step of the tour, his phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned. Eyes lighting up with recognition, he swiped to answer.

"Baby Bird?"

Marinette choked and whipped her head around to face the tour guide. She couldn't hear what "Baby Bird" was saying but Richard looked absolutely bewildered before starting to smile.

"Sure, but why not ask Alfred?- How you getting there?- Okay, I'll give them a call and let B know."

He shook his head as he put his phone back in his pocket.

"Sorry everyone! My little brother woke up late this morning. I'm going to give his school a call real quick."

He took a few steps away to make his call while Marinette strained to hear what he was saying over her pounding heart. When that failed she tried to read his lips. A skill she did not have.

'So they are brothers. Wait, no. Come on, Marinette. What is the chance of it being that easy?'

Marinette slumped down next to Adrien who tapped her shoulder, concerned.

She tried to give him a reassuring smile but she could tell it fell short. He gave her a suspicious smile in return.

Richard soon returned from his call and beckoned for them to follow him. From the lobby and ground floor, he told them about the history of the company. They got to learn a bit about Bruce Wayne's parents and the branches of the company they were a big part of or that were dedicated in their names. It was all very interesting and normally Mari would be listening with rapt attention. But she was distracted, paying too much attention to the speaker himself than the words he was saying.

Eventually she had to stop denying the obvious. She didn't spend more than fifteen minutes in Nightwing's company. But he was unmistakable. The easy way he moved, the tone and timbre of his voice. This man fought crime at night. Their tour guide midnights as a vigilante. When she came to that conclusion, she spent the rest of the tour looking anywhere but his face.

'Richard. Richard what?'

It seemed her new goal of the day was to figure that out.

By the time they got to the cafeteria for lunch, Marinette had learned practically nothing about the Wayne building or the company. Her classmates were filing in past their guide who was passing off little slips of blue paper. She internally cringed. As she passed by and gingerly took her paper from his hands he said,

"Show these to the cashier after getting your food. Okay, everyone! I'll be nearby if anyone has follow up questions. Don't hesitate to ask."

Adrien grabbed her shoulder lightly. She jumped and looked at her friend.

"Come on, let's go get something to eat. I know you missed breakfast," he smiled.

Her face flushed at the memory. Her phone decided enough was enough and died halfway through the night. So no alarm and Marinette did not have the forethought to schedule a wake up call the the front desk. So she slept straight through Mlle. Bustier knocking on everyone's doors due to her late night. It wasn't until Alya finally arrived, banging on the door that she actually became aware of her surroundings. She had to rush to get ready, barely having time to brush her hair. She had to tie up her hair on the bus. It was good that she had laid out her outfit the night before or she would have been in an even worse time crunch.

They made their way through the line, following Nino's footsteps, who was following Alya's steps in turn. Once they had turned in their lunch tickets and sat down Marinette started to look around for their teacher. She was hoping Mlle Bustier could tell her a bit more about Richard without being obvious. She finally spotted her over by the register, where she had just finished walking through the line. Marinette stood.

"Mari?"

She looked down at Adrien's questioning eyes. Giving him a weak smile, she patted his shoulder.

"I'll be right back."

Mlle. Bustier chose to sit at the edge of the room so she could keep an eye on as many of her kids as possible. She saw Marinette coming and she lifted her face to greet the class president.

"Yes, Marinette? Do you need something?" she asked pleasantly.

"I just have a quick question?"

"Was that a question?" Caline asked.

Marinette backpedaled and shook her head.

"No, no... that wasn't it."

"Okay, then what is it?"

"I was just wondering..." she trailed off, only continuing when the teacher raised an eyebrow at her deflective tone. "if you knew Monsieur Richard's last name?"

Blinking in confusion, she stared at the girl standing before her. Eventually she shook her head.

"I met him at the same time you did. You'll have to ask him."

Marinette cursed mentally. Looks like if she wanted answers she'd have to be direct. Something she was not good at. (Something her soulmate was very good at.)

"Well. Thank you anyway." she looked back at the far table she left Adrien at.

He waved.

She did not wave back.

Instead she continued scanning the room for Richard. He was seated a few tables away from Lila's little group. That was where Alya and Nino ended up as well, but her eyes just skipped over them in favor of the suspected vigilante.

A wave of calm confidence and what felt almost like anger came over her and she marched toward him. Lila noticed her walk and followed her gaze to the Wayne employee who was sitting next to a younger man, a laptop open in front of him. Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly.

When Marinette finally passed by, she loudly began to spin a new lie, or a continuation of an older lie. When the shorter girl kept walking, paying no attention to the liar, her eyes narrowed further. The girls sitting around her pleaded for her to keep talking so she did, putting Dupain-Cheng on the back burner.

Dick looked up, startled, when one of the girls from the tour group planted her feet right next to him at his table. Tim barely glanced over from his precious coffee.

He looked at her stony expression, kind of nervous. He had no idea what he did wrong.

"I have a question," she said in English.

Her voice did not match her expression. It was soft and he got the impression she rarely had negative things to say. The French accent certainly helped her case.

"Yes, Miss...?"

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," she supplied.

Tim finally decided to start paying attention.

"The class president?" he asked blearily.

"Oui- I mean, yes."

Dick called back her attention with a head bob.

"What is your question?" he asked.

Tim leaned in a bit to hear over the din of the cafeteria. Her face steeled and her took a deep breath.

"What is your last name?"

He looked a bit reluctant to say, more surprised than anything else, but she did not waver.

"Grayson," he said at last.

Her expression tinged with surprise before she nodded.

"The eldest," was all she said before she thanked him with a sweetness that came out of nowhere and walking away.

"What was that about?" Tim asked around a sip of his coffee.

Dick gave a small shrug before looking down at his food. So she knew his name. He only hoped this revelation did not cause any waves of students suddenly excited to talk to him. He wasn't that worried about it. He was used to attention because of the Wayne influence. But the girl did not gravitate toward the big group of students a few tables down. Instead she walked further down, sitting next to the blond boy who looked at her expectantly. She waved him off.

"Almost reminded you of someone right up until the end, wouldn't you say?"

"What?" Dick looked at his younger brother.

Tim rolled his eyes and knocked back the rest of his drink.

"By the way, Damian's soulmate must be a great influence on him already."

"What makes you say that?"

"He said please. Twice."

Tim stared down at his empty cup. A few beats of silence passed and he smiled like someone just let him in on an inside joke. He stood up quickly and Dick jolted with surprise.

"I have an idea," Tim said before grabbing his laptop and heading out of the room.

Well okay then.

taglist: (CLOSED)

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#maribat #daminette

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dickie-gayson · 7 years

Note

Hello! Request: one of the Batboys faking sick to get out of something (my first thought was a gala/party but anything you can come up with is fine). Bonus points if it spirals out of control a bit and everyone is worried so they're benched from patrol / forced to rest for several days.

Thank you for the request! Sorry for the wait, here it is! Idk which batboy you were hoping for but I chose Luke Fox bcus he never gets any love lmfao tho the others do pop up, specifically Jason and Tim.

Luke Fox hated galas. He hated damn near everything about them, from the boring music to the too-expensive food and the elitists and sycophants crawling all over the place. Bruce Wayne's galas? The Worst. There was never more an ostentatious and wasteful display of wealth than when Bruce decided to play up the 'Brucie Wayne' role. Luke knew Bruce hated galas just as much as he did and would much rather spend both his time and money on more useful endeavors, but he needed to keep the charade up. That was why Bruce was throwing some sort of event tonight. Luke was determined to get out of it.

Could any really blame him? He's had more than his fair share of galas growing up as the son of Lucius Fox, friend of Bruce Wayne himself. One would think the annoying patrons would overlook Luke in favor of Bruce, any of his wards, or Lucius, but one would be wrong. See, Luke was a world-famous boxer and mma fighter, not to mention an early graduate of MIT with double degrees. Anyone with working eyes and even half a brain cell could see the potential in the man. So, they all but attacked him with fervor only found in those looking to climb the social ladder and elevate their status. He hated that.

It was a real test of self-control not to knock them all out. Luke doubted Lucius or Bruce would appreciate that. Or Gordon, come to think of it. After all, Luke technically was considered a living weapon due to his extensive, and public, physical training. Hell, Alfred might even be disappointed, and that was something he couldn't stand to do to the aging butler. So, instead of resorting to suplexing someone through a table as he would like to, he figured he'd just not go. Only problem was, his father was expecting him to be there. His father and the various members of the bat-clan who were also forced into going to the hellish event. So, Luke would have to get crafty.

Coming up with a plan was simple enough. He'd just fake sick. Executing that plan was trickier, given the fact that he was surrounded by fucking super-geniuses and detectives. Luke was betting none of the other bats and birds were going to let him off the hook so easily. If one suffered, they were all suffering. He could think of it as a sort of training exercise. If he could fool them, then he was doing great. If he failed? Well, he'd be in for some shit. But hey, the reward outweighed the risk in this case.

Tampering with the thermometer was childs play. When it was to be used, it'd display a temperature between 100.3 to 101.4; sick but not hospital-worthy. The fluctuation in temperatures helped keep the act realistic. He made up a list of symptoms to keep him down and out without being too worrying. Once they all left, he was homefree. It was just a matter of making it all believable. His only real godsend was that he didn't spend too much time around the others for them to know how he acted when ill.

As the time ticked closer to the gala, he knew it was time to get the show on the road. Luke laid on his couch, just in case someone decided to spring through his window because no one knew how to use the damn door. He was forced to get up, however, when there was a knock on his door. With a drawn out groan, the hero shuffled his way to the door, already getting into the role.

When he swung the door open, he was met with the site of his father, dressed to the nines, and staring at him critically. That was definitely unnerving. The Bats weren't the only geniuses. Lucius was quick as a whip and observant as all hell. Not to mention, he raised Luke. Tricking him was a feat. A feat he's completed before, but a feat nonetheless.

"And why aren't you ready for the gala? Don't tell me, you're sick."

The arch of his brow and deadpan stare Luke was getting let him know just how little he was fooling his father. Well, he better amp up his game then. He's fought harder fights than this. Luke made sure to make it seem as if he were shivering despite the warm temperature. He swallowed thickly then winced as if in pain. When he spoke, he tried to make it scratchy and quiet to really sell the whole 'sore throat' bit. Damn, maybe he should have went to Juliard, he was a natural.

"Yeah, sorry dad. I woulda called but I was sleeping. This is one hell of a bug, I don't wanna get you sick."

Lucius just made a low 'mhm' sound as he looked Luke over head-to-toe. The hero kept his posture somewhat hunched. Before his father could interrogate him, Tim appeared next to the older man, dressed to impress. He too looked over the clearly underdressed vigilante with intense scrutiny. There was a sharp look in his blue eyes that said he was not letting Luke get away if he was lying. That made Luke gulp, but for an entirely different reason than faking a sore throat.

"Sick?"

Luke gave an affirmative noise, not wanting to talk more than necessary. Sometimes less was better and all that jazz. That dissecting look only intensified as Tim took in his posture, rumpled pajamas, and 'shivering'. The senior hero gave him an almost cocky tilt of the head as he spoke.

"We should take your temperature, just to be sure it's not too severe."

'Check and mate.' Luke moved slightly to let them into his apartment. Tim made a beeline for his medicine cabinet. The fact that he didn't need to tell Tim where his medical equipment was kept was only moderately unsettling. Luke shifted and then shuddered. To say he was nervous was an understatement. Fooling both Lucius and Tim would be worthy of a damn trophy in his opinion. Only a moment later, Tim was back, thermometer in hand.

It was the moment of truth as he stuck the thermometer in Luke's mouth. What Luke didn't count on was Tim checking his pulse as he waited for the readout on his temperature. Well, shit, that wasn't part of his plan. Tim only made an ambiguous hum before taking the thermometer and reading it.

"101.2, slightly elevated heart rate, a mild cold sweat. Alright, I guess you can sit this out."

Tim gave him another critical stare. Huh, for once his nervousness actually helped him out. No one pointed out that Tim was technically the youngest in the room and Luke didn't need to take orders from him. Luke could pay respect where respect was due, and Tim definitely earned it. Not to mention, he clocked more hero-time than Luke, giving him seniority in that field. Instead, he just gave a grunt.

"Great, thanks. Can I go back to sleep now?"

Both Lucius and Tim looked him over, as if searching for any hint that he was lying. Really, Luke couldn't blame them. One of them was always looking to get out of these events. It was like a competition to see who could bust the most and drag them to suffer with the rest. The two shared a silent look before saying their goodbyes. He gave them weak goodbyes as he made his way to his bedroom. It'd be at least half an hour before he was in the clear. No doubt someone was perched outside, watching like a creep, waiting for him to slip up by going about normally.

So, he laid down and mentally reviewed the new upgrades to his Batwing suit. In his personal opinion, the Batwing suit was sick as hell. Tights were not his thing, thank you. When he was relatively confident everyone else was gone, he got up, ready to have some actual fun.

To say the night sucked would an understatement and a half. Dick had to separate Damian from the guests three times to keep him from making any of them cry. Jason was hiding in the study after he stole a full tray of hors d'oeuvres and two bottles of champagne for himself. He already made one person leave after 'accidentally' spilling a glass on their suit. Okay, maybe it was two glasses. Or three. Really, who keeps count of that sort of thing? The asshole deserved it, the way he ogled Cass. She was busy charming the socialites with her graceful way on the dancefloor, so Jason decided to defend her honor without actually shooting anyone.

Tim arrived at least thirty minutes late with a look on his face that said 'I would rather be in a ditch somewhere than here'. Maybe the guests were just idiots, because they definitely loved to flock him. Almost as much as they flocked to Dick, poor guy. If there was an award for most ass-grabs avoided, he'd win it, hands down. How he managed to laugh and act like he actually liked being there, none of them could fathom. They chalked it up to his natural showmanship, because he sure bitched about the event as much as the rest of them.

Steph and Harper got passes on the event as they weren't in the public spotlight like the others. Kate just straight up refused to come and no one wanted to try and force her otherwise. They liked their jaws intact. Jason was lucky and could get away with being seen as only a family friend. Sadly, there were too many pictures of him with the others not to be known to some degree. Duke seemed damn near overwhelmed in the crowded ballroom. This was certainly not something he was used to. Dick and Jason both remembered being in that position. None of the three were from any degree of wealth, so it was definitely a culture shock to some degree. Luke was nowhere to be found. According to Tim, he was out sick. The others called bullshit.

It was around the fourth hour when everything got even worse. Apparently Scarecrow and Poison Ivy decided to team up and combine their scientific minds to create a toxin to poison the citizens of Gotham with. Bruce figured one of the rogues would try and cause a problem that night. Why wouldn't they? Oracle was on standby, ready to call in the big guns in case things got too out of control. Thankfully, Batwoman, Spoiler, and Bluebird were on call and managed to control the situation before things got too crazy. Seeing as Jason had already snuck away, Red Hood managed to make an appearance in an attempt to help.

What made it particularly troublesome was the toxin. It presented itself as a fast-acting sickness akin to the flu. Only, it was highly communicable through the air as well as bodily fluids and if one attempted to take medication, it would react negatively, sending the victim into anaphylactic shock. It could cause serious damage or even death if handled improperly. Even worse, it caused vivid delusions and high energy in its most infectious stage, urging the host to run about and spread it further. This was going to be a long, long night. What none were expecting was the worried look Tim cast Bruce.

"Bruce, Luke was sick earlier. It's possible he was infected. Initial symptoms align with how the toxin presents itself in the early stages. Shakes, cold sweat, elevated pulse, lethargy, sore throat."

Well, that didn't sound good. As Bruce worked on an antidote to distribute, he sent Tim and Jason to swing by Luke's to see how he was now. It was still unknown if the host would turn volatile if confronted and it would be better to have back up against one of their own. Especially one of their own who was very well-known to punch really, really hard. The others were tasked with trying to quarantine the sick citizens and prevent further outbreak.

Tim made sure to wear a rebreather to prevent accidental infection. Jason had his helmet that naturally filtered the air he breathed. What they definitely didn't expect to see was Luke dancing around to Ariana Grande in nothing but his boxers, socks, and a button up shirt with a pair of sunglasses on. The two heroes paused in surprise as Luke continued to really get into the music. Jason made a mental note to add 'good dancer' to his hero biography. Who knows? It could come in handy. 'Good singer' could safely be left out, however. Without wasting any more time, they crept into the apartment to confront the man.

Luke damn near had a heart attack when he turned around, mid-note, and noticed Jason and Tim in his apartment, staring at him. He made a mental note to ask Oracle to look over his security because what the fuck. He immediately resumed his sickly stature, even though it was way past obvious he was fine. What can he say? He's committed. It was the rebreather Tim was using that made him hesitate. Rebreathers usually meant bad stuff.

"Uh...I can explain?"

Instead of answering, Tim took out a small needle from his harness. They wanted to take a blood sample. Alright, something was definitely up. Jason edged toward him with caution. Both of their postures suggested they were waiting for an attack.

"Seriously, what's going on? Why do you have those masks?"

He was growing more and more nervous with each second. Jason finally spoke up.

"Ivy and Crane poisoned the city. You might have been infected."

Oh. That certainly explained things. Of all nights for Luke to fake sick, those two maniacs decide to attack like this. Great. He was going to get poked and prodded for hours now. Can't a guy enjoy music and dancing in his underwear anymore? Ariana Grande was his shit, and now he had to go to that dank, depressing cave because some people just can't let others live.

"Guys, listen, I'm fine. This? It was all a lie. I just didn't feel like going to the gala. If I was sick, I definitely wouldn't be dancing around."

He straightened his posture and took off the sunglasses. There was no trace of his 'illness' anymore. Neither Tim or Jason looked convinced. Instead, Tim shook his head slowly, clearly worried.

"Delusions and manic energy. We gotta get him to the cave, fast."

They both moved, ready to knock him out if necessary. Rather than having to deal with that massive headache, he just sighed in defeat. There was no way he'd be able to take Jason and Tim in a fight. Hell, he was in his underwear. Jason pulled a surgical looking mask from one of his many pockets and shoved it toward him. Luke just groaned in slight aggravation as he put it on.

"I'm telling you, I'm not sick."

Instead of responding, Tim radioed to someone, probably Bruce, that they were bringing him in. Jason stood at the ready. What, did they think he was going to go ballistic and try to murder them? He wasn't suicidal, thanks. At least they let him put on pants before they dragged him to his impending doom. Either they'd find out he lied to get out of the gala or they were convinced he was sick and dying. No matter which way Luke looked, he was royally screwed. The worst part was being forced to sit in the quarantine cell for fourteen hours while they ran test after test and worked on a cure for the city. It was somewhere around the eleventh hour that Luke developed a cough. He just groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. Well, this was great. Next time, he was just going to go to the damn gala and let someone else lie.

#Anon #request #my writing #Luke Fox #ty I hope u enjoy it!!#LukeFoxNeedsMoreLove2k17

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spoiled-batgirl · 7 years

Text

Alice in Gunpowder chapter 2

Fandom: Red Hood/Batman, DC comics Au: Alice in wonderland, dad!Jason Warnings: child PTSD, mental illness, violence, strong language Word count: 2459 Father Hood After two years Alice had gone into the witness protection program. Bruce helped put them on the list, but honestly, little girls with the attention of an entire Gotham gang? It took a day and a half to get the process finished. Jason's adoptive father was very helpful in making sure it was the best of the best care because gods help the man that let Bruce Wayne's first grandchild get hurt, adopted with hatred of him or not. Being someone's dad changed Jason so quick that Roy and Dick had started calling him Father Hood on patrol. Something that gave them black eyes but they seemed to think the pun was worth it. Alice depended on him, loved him, and respected and trusted him like no one else ever had. She fixed his relationship with Bruce because he didn't sleep for a week because holy shit how do you take care of a child with PTSD and homicidal tendencies? Well, that is Bruce Wayne's speciality. He gave him a stack of single father parenting books, children psychology books, and a bunch of books on how to deal with monster children that he must have gotten when Damian came to live with him. He laughed until he cried, Bruce trying to defend his son until he caved in and laughed too. Jason felt like he did when he first came to the manor and got his hands on the library. Bruce was surprised and pleased and them and Alfred would spend hours talking about Shakespeare. He felt like he had a dad again. Even if he hadn't avenged him, Dick and Alfred have said he came damn close to killing the joker. But that's just what the sick bastard wanted. So he locked him up to let the Joker's own mind torture him, and Jason came to understand that man seeks death. He seeks it every time he puts others in pain, to make them want to end his in return. Jason was happy the bastard was being torn apart by his own mind in Arkham, he would keep his sanity. Alice had started therapy once the protection system was secured. She had seen some really nasty shit no child should ever have to see. Jason had just been alone from day one, but like Bruce and Dick, Alice had seen her own family killed. That helped with her therapy, Dick quickly becoming her favorite uncle. He remembered his older brother becoming very quickly attached. "You know, the first brother should have kids first." Dick had said, as they watched Alice run around an aquarium. "What are you saying? You want her?" Jason said, surprised at the seriousness in Dick's tone. "She faced something much more violent when her parents died, but like me she saw her parents die. Maybe it'd be good for her." Dick said, sympathy in his voice. "She can't stay with Bruce, not with Damian there. He's too territorial." "And she hates them. Well, she's warming up to Bruce, but she still doesn't like Damian. Damian loves you though, wouldn't he feel betrayed?" Jason asked, Dick looking back to him. Jason looked at his brother, "Dick, thanks, but no thanks. Alice grew up in a violent environment and I can relate to that. Mob member's daughter is a far cry from street urchin but were still of the same kind." "Why don't we ask her?" Dick asked, his eyebrows knit in his anxiety. Jason nodded and his stomach knotted. He didn't want to lose the kid, but Dick would be the perfect Dad. Jason was just the one who found her. "Alice, sweetie, I wanna ask you something." Dick said once Alice had returned to tell them she had seen Nemo. "What is it?" She asked, Dick kneeling in front of her. "Do you want to come live with me?" He asked. She stared at him in shocked confusion. "What do you mean?" She asked, her seriousness too strong for a nine-year old. "I mean you can move to my ho--" "No!" Alice cried, flinging herself into Jason's arms. "No!" She started sobbing, which was rare for Alice. It shocked Dick into rejected silence. Jason stroked her hair and hushed her, families giving them odd looks. He glared back at the judgmental mothers and spoke to Alice, "baby, I'm not trying to get rid of you. But you and uncle Dick went through similar experiences and his job is safer. We thought maybe you wanted to." Alice hugged him tight. "No. I don't care, I know what you do, daddy, I know what grandpa and uncle Dick do. I'm not stupid. I don't care, I'm proud of you. And you keep me safe and your fun and I love uncle Dick but I love you more." She whispered softly. Jason smiled and dug a tissue out of his jacket pocket. Another thing he started doing after Alice came along; tissues, wet cloths, hand sanitizer and band-aids in his jacket pockets. One time he put a band-aid on killer croc after a job out of habit. KC sent him a basket of muffins later, the poor guy had zero social experience and had no idea what to do. Roy and Dick found it hilarious. Jason was just kinda sad n they asked him if he was going to go all "father hood" on KC too. They still laughed with bruised jaws. He wiped Alice's nose and face and soothed her as they headed to the exit. Dick bought her a stuffed otter and kneeled again to apologize. She hugged him. "It's okay, uncle D, I still love you but you'd have to live with me and daddy because I'm not leaving. Also I don't wanna deal with Damian." She said. They laughed. "You're going to have to get used to him, sweetie." Dick chuckled. "Yeah, I'm used to him being a rude poopyhead." Alice said as they walked out the store, her new toy in her arms. Dick surrendered with a chuckle. Today is Alice's tenth birthday. They were at the manor, the little blonde girl trotting after Bruce who, after therapy, gifts, and rides in the batmobile, Alice thought was like a real life king. Bruce, still guilty over being connected to her parents death and completely in love with his first grandchild, didn't mind her company at all. Unfortunately, that lead to Damian becoming jealous of the girl stealing his father's attention, and the unfair treatment between them. After all, grandchildren get spoiled and the children don't. What made it unfair was Damian was her uncle but only two years older than her. But Bruce made him be mature anyways. Jason found a rare instinct to defend his little brother, Alice didn't need to be spoiled or training was going to be too hard for her. Alice, Damian and Bruce could be seen in the garden from the kitchen. Bruce and Alice were sitting with a picture book, trying to identify the flowers while Damian was playing with Titus and bat-cow. Alfred and Jason watched from inside as the man got the off chance to relax with everyone else outside. "Oh, it appears master Damian has made a singing flowers joke," Alfred said as Alice tossed her book and jumped over Bruce in a back handspring move, using her grandpa's shoulder to do it. They cracked the window. "Looks like her gymnastics lessons are paying off." Jason said. Alice landed on her feet and elbowed Damian in the neck, kicking his knees out. Bruce picked her up kicking and screaming as Damian smirked. "I'll shove you down a rabbit hole, jerkface! Make another wonderland joke!" She yelled at the twelve year old. "I would but you're so mad it wouldn't HATTER." He said. She broke out of Bruce's hold and punched Damian in the nose. He clutched his face and swore in Arabic. Bruce scolded them and and dragged them inside. "It's not correct to say but I'm impressed with Alice's spirit, master Jason." Alfred said, getting up to get the first aid kit. Jason chuckled, "Thanks, Al." Bruce and the kids made it to the kitchen, Alice silently crying and Damian wordlessly going to get his nose treated by Alfred. She hugged Jason and he gathered her onto his lap, checking her hand. "Does it hurt?" He asked, soothing her. She shook her head, "thumb was out, my knuckles are fine. if it hurt the jerk would have a broken nose." Jason hugged her and wiped her tears. "Are you okay?" He asked. "I hate him," she said, monotone. "Damian?" He asked. "No, the mad hatter." She whispered. Jason nodded. Alice wiped her face and hugged Jason again, "thank you for getting me away from him." "Of course, baby," he stroked her blonde fluffy curls. The Hatter was in a high security prison. He sent Alice letters and gifts that were Alice in wonderland related for weeks after Jason adopted her. They had him arrested within a month, but things related to the story still triggered violence in Alice. Damian walked in sulking with a tissue in his nose to stop the bleeding and a small bandaid covering a cut from the punch on the bridge of his nose. "I apologize for joking about something that reminds you of a difficult time." He said, stiffly. Alice burrowed her face into Jason's neck. "At least you're trying to joke like a human, Demon. It's okay, but don't think I won't punch you again if you talk about it." She said looking at Damian, her voice strong. Jason swelled with pride at his little badass girl. Damian nodded, "That's fair.. Alice." He locked eyes with Bruce. Damian rarely used people's last names. He picked on Alice. Which meant Damian has a crush on his adopted niece. Jason hoped Damian's puppy love wouldn't lead to anything awkward. He begrudgingly let Alice leave the room with him as Alfred announced he was ready to start setting up for her birthday party. Alice followed Damian out of the kitchen, Alfred the cat walking by her as he purred. She cooed at the cat as they headed to the entertainment room. They sat with Alfred the cat and Titus on the floor. She decided to put what Damian said behind her and hold him to his word to not joke about wonderland anymore. Alfred the cat curled up in her lap. She looked up at the portraits, Wayne men and women, recognizing her dad and uncles and aunts and grandpa and great-grandpa in the paintings and photos. She looked at a portrait with herself in it, as it was the biggest and centered portrait. Grandpapa Alfred was in the center, Alice and Damian on either side as Grandpa and Dad stood by him. Her dad was behind her, uncle Tim by him. Damian was in front of Grandpa Bruce and uncle Dick by him. Aunt Steph stood in front of Uncle Tim, Aunt Babs in front of uncle Dick and Aunt Cass in front of Alfred. Alice wore a pretty pink dress with black ankle boots. Her blonde hair was stark against the dark clothes of the people around her. "You stand out," Damian said, apparently looking at the picture too. "Do you think I'll ever fit in?" She asked. He laughed, "once you got on a bat symbol? Easily." Alice smiled at him wide, "Thanks, Dami," He flustered to her confusion and she shrugged and played with the cat on her lap. As people started to roll in, Alice left Damian's side on the floor. She sat with her aunt Steph and Cass and Uncle Tim. Damian sat with uncle Dick and Aunt babs on the other couch. She talked with Cass about how her Ballet lessons were going. "You're turning the big double digits, Ali, know what that means?" Uncle Tim said. "I start officially training!" Alice squealed. "You're probably working with Jason, I doubt he'd let you be a Robin. I wonder what you'll be, sweetie." Uncle Dick said. Alice shrugged. "Pink hood?" They laughed and migrated to the dining room for Alice's party. Everything was pink and yellow. Alice squealed, the table had bouquets of yellow and pink roses down a lace soft pink table cloth. Pastel yellow and pink balloons tied to the chair at the end. Alice ran and hugged her grandpapa Alfie, thanking him for everything. She hugged and thanked her Dad and grandpa Bruce too. She sat in the balloon decorated chair and smiled excitedly, kicking her feet in the air. They ate dinner and opened gifts. An outfit and book from Aunt and Uncle Steph and Tim, A teddy bear ballerina from Aunt Cass, a tool kit and iron knuckled fingerless gloves from Aunt and Uncle Babs and Dick, a golden locket from grandpa bruce that had her parents and Jason in it. She put it on right away, wiping away a tear and hugging her grandpa. "Thank you so much," she whispered. "Anything, honey," he whispered holding his grandchild tight. They heard a bark and turned to see Damian walking in with a large box. Jason came to them and smiled as Damian opened up the box. Alice gasped at the sight of an Australian Sheppard puppy sitting in the box with a pastel pink ribbon tied around her neck. She picked up the puppy and cuddled her. "Thank you!" She squealed. Damian kissed her cheek and stood away with his hands behind his back in a flustered manor. "No problem," he said his ears flushing. Alice smiled cluelessly. "What're you going to name her, baby?" Her dad asked. She hummed and looked at the multi-colored puppy. "Aurora," she smiled at Jason. He nodded. He picked Alice and Aurora up and sat down in her ballon decorated seat. Alfred lit the candles and Alice looked down at the cake. "Starling," she said. Her dad hugged her and put another box on the table. She opened it to see a black and dark blue suit, a bat in silver on a short sleeved shirt with black pants with a dark blue stripe on the sides. It was made of flexible fabric and a black leather jacket that matched the gloves uncle dick had given her. Black boots with silver stars and a simple domino mask. Two silver pistols laid in dark blue over the shoulders holsters. She put the suit down and hugged her dad. "Thank you, daddy!" She grinned. He gave a solemn look to the rest of the family who looked melancholy. But what choice did a daughter of an ex-mafia have? She already was killer with guns. "No problem, baby."

#jason todd #batman fanfiction #batman #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #dick grayson #dad!jason #Alice in wonderland au #mad hatter #d.c. comics

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