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ur-favorite-queer-queen · 3 years

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New Start

For Maribat March day 15 theme new start

Master List

Marinette was lucky, she could admit that. Not because of the pocket-sized goddess of creation and luck she carried in her purse, but because of where she is. Sure, living with a magical emotional terrorist isn’t ideal, but it’s better than what her fate would have been had she never been found.

Growing up on the streets of Gotham had been rough to put it lightly. Very lightly. In her time she had seen many good souls come and go, some to their deaths, some to better lives. She was grateful she was the latter, not many she knew had the opportunity she had to have a new start.

In other circumstances, Tom and Sabine would be horrible parents. After all 90 percent of the time they left her to her own devices. However in this case, it’s fine. For one, she was once a street kid, she knows how to take care of herself. And she is also Scarlet Luck, protector of Paris, wielder of the Ladybug miraculous, and newly appointed guardian of the miraculous. So them turning a blind eye to her sudden disappearances did wonders for her.

All she needed in this life was a roof over her head and some decent food. Having her adoptive parents be bakers was a plus too.

The only downside to this life was school. Not because she hated learning or the places school provided. No, she loved sitting in the silence of the library and doing her schoolwork or reading a book. And she especially loved the art room, where she found her love of designing and sewing.

The problem was the people, the staff that mattered to her and her future, were all pushovers and she wasn’t allowed to transfer into Ms. Mendeleiev’s class. Ms. Bustier was the type to let the kids figure it out on their own, rather than step in when she was most needed. And Principal Damocles shouldn’t even be a principal with how much he caves in when it comes to the Mayor’s daughter or Rossi.

She was thankful, however, that within her first month the students at Francoise Dupont learned not to mess with her. Or speak to her. Or be near her in general. And she was perfectly okay with that. She quite liked her spot in the back with Nathaniel, one of the only people she considered a friend.

They had a silent agreement, which was to be silent and leave the other alone. Nathaniel would draw while Marinette would sketch and the 2 had each other's backs. Like when Marinette would whisper Nathaniel the answers during English and he would do the same with history.

He along with Marc, Ondine, Aurore, Mireillie, and Kagami were the only ones she considered friends. Which means they were the only ones that knew why she was so on edge with the Wayne family being in Paris. Not only did none of them know how to control their emotions, but she was sure that Jason Todd-Wayne was bound to be akumatized. Why? Because every kid that was ever on the streets of Gotham knew his story.

He was street smart, a dork, but most importantly aggressive. On the streets he picked fights with any who tried to cross him, and when he was adopted he fought the rich kids that went to Gotham Academy. That was another thing everyone knew, he hit it big when he got adopted by the billionaire that was Bruce Wayne. While she wasn’t on the street when he was she knew he was trouble. The whole Wayne family was, whether they knew it or not.

She already had to deal with Chat every battle, she did not want to have to deal with one of the Waynes becoming an akuma. Not only would it cause an international affair considering how important they are to America, but it could get the attention of American reporters and then the Justice League might want to get involved. She didn't want to deal with the Justice League.

Kagami was the only one brave enough to point out how she might be afraid that people from her hometown were coming to Paris. But she was wrong and Marinette made sure she never brought it up again. Through whatever means necessary.

Now one reason that Kagami was her best friend was because they agreed on something. Never hesitate. If you have an opportunity, take it. Something important that every street kid knows.

Well here she was, standing in front of her classroom, hesitating. She could hear her classmates talking away, whichever Waynes were here trying to gain control of the situation. She guessed her teacher was either doing something out of the classroom or not bothering to get the class in check.

With one final wish that today wouldn't be as shitty as she hoped she opened the door. According to Nathaniel she threw it open.

And she was right, at the front of the classroom were 3 Wayne's trying to get her class to quiet down. Buster was nowhere in sight.

Since Nino and Adrien were closest to the door they noticed her first, stopping their conversation and trying to 'subtly' stare at her. The others quickly following their lead. All eyes, including the Waynes, were staring at her. Wonderful.

Literally all she had to do was roll her eyes and everyone averted their eyes. It was always like something out of a movie. She made her way up the stairs up to Nathaniel and her seats. Grabbing a couple of macarons out of her bag she handed them over to him before setting her notebook and pencil on her desk.

It looked like Lila was about to say something, but a glare had her swallowing her words back down her throat. Staring straight ahead she raised her eyebrow at the Waynes that were still staring, wondering if they were going to try and continue what they were originally trying to discuss.

After a moment the oldest among them started talking again, the other two joined in, however she could tell when they would all cast her glances. She simply acted blissfully unaware, writing notes down for her and Nathaniel while he drew. She had no idea what his grades would be like if it weren't for her.

This whole week had been full of surprises for Bruce. First the League finds out that there has been a magical terrorist in Paris for 3 years that they didn't know about, and these past 3 years children have been fighting him.

So his family being detectives, they were sent to try and get information on the ‘akuma class’. He wanted it to just be him, Dick, Tim, and maybe Cass, but of course Dick wanted the whole family to come. Try to make a family vacation out of it despite the fact that there was a magical emotional terrorist that they were trying to track down and they needed to keep their emotions in check. He means no offense but that is something neither Jason nor Damian can do.

But somehow Dick was able to get the whole family to come because only Dick can do that. And now he had Tim and Dick with him to try to talk to the akuma class about a presentation on starting a business a ploy to try and subtly get information out of them.

They had already done background checks on them all and their families just to be safe and were thoroughly impressed by what they saw. Many of them were gifted in sports, arts, and academics, so perhaps they were just unlucky.

The only one that concerned him was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Only Alfred was aware that the girl was from Gotham, she was specifically a street kid. Adopted 6 years ago by Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain the girl seemed quite bright. She had excellent grades and was in the art club. However he feared what his children might do with this information. And if another reason was because she had black hair, blue eyes, and a guaranteed tragic backstory being from Gotham that set his adoption instincts on fire NO ONE HAD TO KNOW!

So here he was with Dick and Tim, trying to get this ‘akuma class’ to quiet down so they could start the presentation. The teacher has stepped out of the room to check something with the principal and ‘give them the floor’. She probably wanted to get a reason to escape this class, he might try to get an investigation done on this school and their faculty.

From what he observed, Marinette seemed to be absent while most of the class had seemed to be paying attention to this one girl with brown hair in a sausage hairstyle, Lila Rossi, a pathological liar, although the class didn’t seem to know that. All except a redheaded boy in the back, Nathaniel Kurtzberg, a pink haired girl on the second row, Alixandra Kubdel, and a boy with a green shirt and glasses on the third row, Maxton Kante. There was also a blond boy, Adrien Agreste, who seemed to be listening to what the girl was saying with a fake smile he knew all too well. Poor boy.

His sons weren’t having much more luck trying to gain the attention of the class. The redhead looked to be drawing, the green shirt and glasses boy was working on what appeared to be a robot, while the pink haired girl was on her phone. Every once in a while it seemed like she sent them a sympathetic glance, the other two boys too involved in what they were doing to give them any sympathy.

Just as he was sure his kids were about to reach their breaking points in walked the one person he hoped not to see. She slammed the door open and suddenly the whole class quieted down immediately. Now his sons were looking at her as well. She couldn’t have been more than 5’3 and she was only 16, yet she managed to silence this whole class just by appearing.

The class also seemed to be staring at her before she rolled her eyes and they all averted their gazes. It was one of the most movie-like things he had ever witnessed.

She walked up the steps to the back, with each step she seemed to command attention before digging into her bag and handing Nathaniel who had once been doodling a bag of macarons. He seemed to appreciate them as he gave her a small smile before proceeding to munch on one.

Lila who had once had the attention of the class seemed to be fuming now that the attention was off of her. It seemed like she was about to say something but stopped when she caught sight of the glare Marinette was giving her.

Marinette then proceeded to turn her attention to him and his sons, raising an eyebrow as if to ask if they were going to start. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his sons exchange a look he knew all too well, before starting the presentation. And if he or his sons casted looks over to Marinette one too many times, no one noticed.

Bonus -

“WE FOUND A NEW WAYNE!” Dick shouted, far too happy with his discovery.

“Tt, what are you on about Grayson?” Damian scoffed, curiosity and jealousy bubbling in his mind at the thought of a new Wayne.

“There’s a girl in the akuma class, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She had black hair and blue eyes, both things needed to be adopted by Bruce.” Tim stated.

“Does she have a tragic backstory?” Jason jokingly asked.

“Do not look up anything on Ms. Dupain-Cheng. She has a family and I will not be adopting her. Am I clear?” Bruce demanded, waiting for everyone to agree before going to take a shower.

“Babs?” Cass questioned, knowing the girl had to have found something.

“Looking,” Babs replied, “Oh.” She stopped typing and just stared at the screen.

“What’d you find?” Steph asked the question they were all wondering from Babs’ unusual reaction.

“Guys,” Babs started, turning the screen to face them, “She’s from Gotham.”

And from there all hell broke loose.

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Inspired by this post I saw a while back:

Marinette being a street kid from Gotham but had no previous connection to any of the Waynes was intriguing so I did it. I’m probably going to do a backstory chapter later on, just unsure which day I’ll do it on.

Of course yesterday I was early so today I was late. The universe needs its balance. So sorry for the late post guys, I blame the universe.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #maribat march #new start #will do another chapter #promise #just unsure when #past street kid Marinette

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artxyra · 4 years

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The Secret Life of MDC | Part 3

Part 3 - Welcome to Gotham, now get out!

Part 1 | Part 2 |

Arriving in Gotham was just an absolutely massive mess, that quickly turned into a several page report for Marinette to send to the school board the moment she arrived in her temporary dorm at Gotham Academy.

Let recap back to the airport. When everyone got off the plane, Lila was quick to make up an excuse about Bruce Wayne sending her a private limo that she’ll be happy to bring the class along. Of course, Caline Bustier, absently believed the long-time liar telling her students to gather their belongings and for Lila to call the Waynes. It was as if she had completely forgotten the arrival procedures. Arriving in Gotham, proceed to find the bus driver, and meet up with the Gotham Academy Headmistress to retrieve the rest of the plans for the month. Marinette tried to tell Caline that what they were doing was against the procedure, something that she had to memorize for moments like this, only to be lectured about behavior the second she finished talking off to the side.

Then when they finally arrived at the school, Caline had the nerve to lecture her again about not informing her about the bus before being dragged off by the Gotham Academy headmistress, who clearly was not happy with the decisions made before they could even step foot onto the school grounds. Gotham is not a place to dilly dally unless you know the area or a native.

“Do you think, she’ll be fired after this?” Chloe asks while setting her things into the wardrobe as Marinette clicks the save button on her laptop.

“Maybe, no matter what happens, we’re here for a month regardless of the decisions the GA headmistress and Principal De La Fontaine decides in the coming days. All I know as the class president and temp. TA; my job is to help her overlook you guys.” Marinette sighs and closes the laptop's top before giving Chloe her full attention.

“I still can’t believe you graduated early. Though Adrien and I are grateful you managed to stay despite everything.” It was rare moments like these that made Marinette glad that she gave Chloe a second chance. Chloe had apologized one winter when she was freezing to death outside because her parent went on a tropical vacation on her request and decided to allow the staff to take a few days off. It was Sabine and Tom that took the former bully into their arms and made her feel loved, a love that she rarely receives from her parents. Since that day, Chloe takes pride in the honor of being Marinette’s sister just as Adrien did when they took him in also.

“I couldn’t leave you guys to perish in that class. Also, I just didn’t want to give Lie-la the satisfaction of winning.” Marinette says as her phones with the familiar sounds of “The Other Side” by Ruelle. Instantly, Marinette picks up the phone and smiles. “It’s Damian, he wants to go out tonight. Think I have time before—”

“Go, I’ll keep you from trouble, maybe even invite Adrien over if he isn’t doing the same with Jon.” Chloe pushes the noirette out of their room before closing the door behind the designer with a smirk on her lips.

As Marinette makes her way out of the dormitory, little did she know that Lila was just doing the same but for a different reason.

~*~

Damian Wayne @therealbloodheir I had a wonderful night with my beloved. I can’t wait for more nights like these. [Attached is an image of two hands intertwine with each other with the moon shining between them.]

Nette @GothamsFashionSense Replying to @therealbloodheir That sounds like a marriage proposal. Missing you too.

~*~

In the halls of Gotham Academy, conversations buzz around the single fact that Nette was back in Gotham for the first time in weeks. Groups of students gather around a single person, whose phone is out in the open, all gushing about theories on how the date went.

The same can be said for GA’s exchange students who crowd around Lila Rossi like she was the air.

“Gurl, spill, how was the date? You’re tending on twitter, again!” Alya squeals, gripping Lila’s arm.

“Oh you, it was truly romantic. Damiboo took me on this romantic dinner, but the first place we went to didn’t serve any vegetarian meals, and as you know I’m one but he’s not. We left and found another place that was just right.” Her high pitch voices drive a shiver down people spines, well anyone that is in clear hearing distance to the Italian teen's voice range.

“Do they truly believe that she’s Nette. Bitch please, we all know that Nette has dark hair from the back of the head photos on twitter.” A random student scoffs behind the trio.

The trio turns around looking at the person in a new light. The student had long braided blonde hair and wearing the GA uniform. “You’re not fooled? I was pretty sure that she would try and convert you the moment you step foot into the building.” It was Adrien that spoke first.

“I'm Allegra, besides me is Claude and Allen.” The student says shaking hands with Adrien before continuing with, “Anyone with brain cells can tell you that she is not Nette from @GothamsFashionSense.”

Allegra then takes the empty seat beside Marinette.

“Name’s Marinette, these dorks are Adrien and Chloe.” Marinette says, “About the brain cell thing, we’ve been saying that since she joined our class a few years back.”

“It ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, as to how they manage to hang on her every word. And one of them is a self-proclaim reporter. The bitch hasn’t reported anything remotely true since the liar had joined us and don't get me started on her early years.” Chloe places her two cents into the conversation.

This was the start of a blooming relationship.

Claude, Allegra, and Allen were quick to understand the environment that the Paris Trio was living in. An irresponsible, enabling teacher and a class full of idiots. With the Gotham Trio, the Paris Trio was able to understand how Gotham Academy works and learn the ins and outs of specific places. Despite the fact that Marinette vaguely knows just about much.

~*~

“So, how were your first three days at GA?” Dick Grayson asks as the Paris trio who are sitting on the couch inside the living room of Wayne Manor. "Is it about the same as it was when I went?"

“Dicky, I am this close to making heads roll.” Chloe’s fingers are teaching as a look of crazy twitches in her eyes.

“It wasn’t all that bad the first couple of days and then Lila tried to convince GA students that she was me by photoshopping our twitter photos. Other than that, I’m more worried about when Bustier announces that our class has been invited to the upcoming Wayne Gala. I’m already booked with mine and Chloe’s dresses along with Selina’s and Cass’s.” Marinette says, resting her head on Damian’s shoulder as their hands' interlock. Damian places a quick peck on her forehead.

The room was once again oddly silent before Adrien let out a loud giggle.

The family turns to the model who was staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. Adrien was no doubt in a group chat with Luka and Jon about upcoming meetings and plans.

“What?” Adrien asks, looking up to the group of extended family members staring at him. They all quickly look away, some whistling while others mess with the person they are next to. “Seriously guys, what?” The whining in Adrien’s voice just made it harder for them to pretend to do something as they hold in a laugh.

“Nothing,” Marinette snickers as Damian brings to play with her hair by braiding strands of it. She always liked it when Damian messed with her hair, he sometimes does something nice, surprising everyone with his styling skills.

“Hey, Pixie-Pop and Pixie-Pop’s friends. When did you guys get in?” It’s Jason, to which majority had forgotten about even though Tim was a close second as he is hovering over a half-full cup of coffee trying to stay awake but isn’t with them in reality. Maybe Marinette should make her special concoction that would knock anyone out for quite some time.

“Hey Mari, can you make the switch?” Dick whispers in the designer’s ear. Marinette huffs agreeing to the older sibling’s request. Damian nearly groans as his girlfriend gets off his lap and walks into the kitchen.

Marinette comes out nearly ten minutes later with a steaming coffee mug in hand. She walks over to Tim and pushes his cup out of his hand and replaces it with hers. Tim, absently, takes a sip. Within seconds he is knocked out, cold.

“I’ll never not be amazed at how fast your drink can knock Tim out,” Dick says as he picks up Tim and exits the room. Marinette shrugs and takes her seat next to Damian.

“When does Cass get back from her trip?” It was Chloe who decided to break the silence between them.

“Before the gala, that’s for sure,” Jason answers as he pulls out the controllers for the game console. He gives Marinette a knowing look, who smirks with mischief in her eyes. He should know better than to play against Marinette.

~*~

It was times like this that made Marinette wish that the school board had investigated Mlle. Bustier years ago, like for example when the liar first tried to get her expelled in college. Yeah, that was such a long time ago.

Today was supposed to be an easy-going day, but for some reason, Lila managed to convince the teachers, Mlle. Bustier specifically, to allow the class to visit a nearby street mall. Mlle. Bustier, of course, agrees despite the GA teachers telling her that it was a bad idea to let the student go out unsupervised in a place they still don’t know much about. Caline laughs it off stating that they’ll be fine, and it’ll be just like walking down the streets in Paris. That added another dash to her inability to be a proper teacher.

Which brings us to the street mall. Lila was going into stores left and right proclaiming to be Damian Wayne’s girlfriend or stating that she is the niece of some high profile celebrity in hopes of getting free or discounted items. That doesn’t dwell well seeing as Gothamites are not as gullible as Parisians.

The Paris Trio along with the GA Trio watch the mess that she was drumming up from afar. Chloe had invited Allegra to join them which then extended to Claude and Allan who wanted to go for the arcade.

Lila even had the nerve to ask Adrien to join her and Alya shopping trips with the underlying message of making him pay. Once being denied on numerous occasions, Alya managed to steal Nino’s wallet in hopes of paying for all their stuff. Yeah, that didn't help their relationship status.

“Alya I told you that money wasn’t for you,” Nino screams into his girlfriend’s face as she tries to come up with an excuse. He was infuriated.

“Nino, baby, if you love me you would have just given me the money. Lila really needed those items for her date with Damian.”

“I don’t care about Lila’s need; she is not my responsibility. In fact, neither are you, Alya. You just spent the money I had saved up for this trip.” Nino had wanted to go into a DJ shop that sold the equipment he wanted and started saving the moment the trip was announced the year before.

“Stop bitching, it was only a couple hundred dollars.”

Oohs and side-eyes make up the crowd they were drawing. It was a free drama tv for them.

“Ooh what do we have here, a lovers quarrel? Now would be the perfect time to spring my new trap.” Suddenly, it was like time freezes.

~*~

Chloe B. @QueenBeeOfParis The best thing about my idiotic classmates is television drama. #savemefromthem

Tina @thepinkmistress I was finding my own business when this shit happens. [Attach is a video clip of a couple arguing and goons dress in green takes over the streets]

Tim Drake’s Bish @rachelcovefe The nerve of this group. Just finished my shift only to be told by some foreigner that she was @GothamsFashionSense like bish please I know you ain't her. #anotherdayingotham

Kimmy @kimmyontheblock Replying to@rachelcovefe OMG same but she then added in that she was Jagged Stone's niece. Um excuse you but we all know that it's @MDCfashion

Mari Needs Coffee @MarinetteMemes So the first relaxing day in Gotham ruined by the Riddler and Lie-la’s fanatics. Yup, so good to be back. #memescomingsoon #goodgrief #imabouttoheadout

Part 4 >>

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

Note: The SPECIFIC Tag list is officially closed. If you wanted to follow the story please mark the tag fic:The Secret Life of MDC.

#daminette #maribat #teacher assistant au #teacher assistant Marinette AU #ta marinette #fic:The Secret Life of MDC #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc crossover #ml crossover #damimari

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jinxedpanda4life · 3 years

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Criminal Investigator AU HC

I would first like to start off by saying thank you to everyone.

I honestly did not expect the response I got to my Damirae Hospital AU HC list.

When I first woke up and checked tumblr ~13 hours after posting I had a holy shit moment.

I felt powerful, should I? Probably not.

But! Since I am noticing a lack of AUs in the fandom, whether on Tumblr, AO3 or FanFiction.net, whatever AU comes to my mind I shall jot down some hcs for!

Thank you all once again!

(Also trying format changes for easy reading)

(Also Also, I am thinking the story is less fluid but more episodic)

Let’s get started:

- So I’m thinking this is some FBI, SVU, and FBI BAU mixture or whatever. Basically all the great shows we know in love shoved together. From Bones to Criminal Minds and everything in between.

- Special Agent (Dr.) Raven Roth is a lead interrogator and is the resident psych consult.

She’s been educated in interrogation, behavioral science, psychology, forensic pathology, and criminology.

She has combat training (hand to hand), she carries (for her job) a gun and at all times has a knife/dagger on her person (people have stopped trying to figure out where she keeps them).

Her father was/is crime boss T. Trigon who is currently imprisoned.

Was born in the states but fled with her mother to Romania when she was a newborn.

When Trigon found them he killed Arella and took Raven, she was abut 9 - 10 years old.

She took her mother’s last name when she turned 18.

Knows two languages besides English; French, Romanian, Romani (various dialects but knows multiple), Greek and Latin

On more than one occasion some goon of her father’s tries to recruit her, every time she kicks their ass. (Damian was there for the most recent (he was still green though))

Lives by herself in a decent sized apartment, has a gun safe (gun safety is important!), a cat (Nevermore), and is a regular at a 24/7 bookstore &/ cafe

Can usually be found wearing some kind of jacket, sweater, cardigan

She once helped save some kids (Melvin, Tommy & Teether) and is now their surrogate aunt, she has photos of them at her desk @ work. (Damian assumes/ed that they were her kids)

She also, when she can, hangs out and babysits them on occasion.

Raven is part of a team consisting of Dick Grayson (unit leader), Kori Anders, Garfield Logan, Jaime Reyes, and very recently Damian Wayne

- Special Agent Damian Wayne is a lead investigator (he is still a bit fresh to the unit), translator, sniper and combat coordinator

He’s been educated in martial arts, explosives, hand to hand combat, close range combat, and combat (basically he knows how to kill you 9 ways to Sunday), also, behavioral science, computer science, criminology, linguistics and language.

He can easily translate (into English): Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Russian, Hindi, Bengali, French, Polish, German, Spanish, Portuguese, he can also learn any language you put in front of him and know the basics within a day

(Having lived in many places around the world he needed to be able to speak and understand in order to survive) (wow dramatic much?)

His father is currently the director (or deputy director, whatever floats ya boat) of the FBI.

His mother was essentially a secret agent who worked for various agencies around the globe. (deceased)

His grandfather was the leader of a, um, well to be honest, terrorist agency. (deceased)

Was sent to live with his father when he was 15 (when his mother died) and has been in the states ever since

Lives alone, he has an upscale apartment that he truthfully spends little time in, has multiple locations in the home where various weapons are stored, his place has a very cold atmosphere

Is either in proper work attire or in work out clothing, there is no in between

Tries and fails not to take work home with him

He sees a therapist (who says he should probably try investing in relationships with the people at his job)

His only “friend” (he hates calling him that, more like close acquaintance) is Jonathan Kent who was in his class at the FBI Academy, Jon works in a white collar crime department in Metropolis

The only person he actually kind of sort of doesn’t dislike is in fact Raven Roth, she’s a no bull shit person, he likes that

He may know Grayson because of how he’s Bruce’s kind of son but it does not mean he likes him

He finds Logan annoying as all hell, even if he is somewhat useful

He picked a fight with Reyes first day and regretted it (he will never admit that), he respects him

Anders is overly friendly in his opinion, kind of acts like a secretary with all that positivity and grates his nerves, he tolerates her

(Unlike last time I am not going in detail about the rest of the team, this will be brief)

- Supervisory Special Agent Dick Grayson (Unit Chief) is basically Dick Grayson with a big fancy title but all the same skills

He is also obsessed with Slade Wilson and Red X (who is Jason in this)

- Supervisory Special Agent Kori Anders is a lead investigator and is also a go to for undercover work

- Special Agent Garfield Logan is a lead interrogator, is head of the unit’s K-9 unit and kind of has a thing for Roth (which she does not reciprocate)

- Special Agent Jaime Reyes is a tactical analyst, tech analyst and is head of the unit’s SWAT team, he does not do well with talking with people, or change

The Scarab is a computing program that Jaime created himself

STORY START:

- When Damian first joins the team there is another member, Special Agent Terra Markov, she is revealed as a sleeper agent but she aligns herself with the team and sadly is shot and killed in a fire fight

- A couple weeks after Agent Markov’s death everyone is talking about what they are doing for an upcoming holiday, Damian says probably nothing, Raven invites him to spend it with her and her “niece” and “nephews,” he declines

- About a day after the holiday Damian is home looking through case files when someone knocks on his door

-- It is Raven. He asks how she knew where he lived, she says she asked Dick, she also says that she knows how it feels to be alone and that he may be insufferable but it doesn’t mean he can’t have a friend

-- His response is saying he isn’t the kind to make friends with co workers

-- “I’m not asking to be your friend Damian, I am asking you to be his,” She reveals a small black great dane puppy “I know that other people aren’t really your thing, but having someone in your corner and waiting for you is always nice, even if it isn’t human.”

-- Damian invites her in, names the dog Titus and thanks her

-- “Just make sure no one tries to kidnap and kill you, we don’t need you to go full blown John Wick.” Damian has no idea who that is. Raven tells him it is an action movie series that he should watch. She leaves. He does watch them that night with Titus on his lap. (after having gone to the local pet supply store to get everything he needs) The action is inaccurate but he enjoyed the movies none the less, and decides that he probably would go into John Wick mode if someone hurt Titus.

- SA Roth and SA Wayne are sent to a high security federal prison to interrogate a prisoner, who refuses to speak

-- When they get into the interview room the prisoner does start to speak, but not in English and not in a language Damian is fluent in

-- Raven on the other hand immediately responds to the prisoner (shocking the prisoner and Damian) “He is speaking Romani though not the dialect of those overseas, he learned it here.”

-- Damian is fascinated by it and they are essentially switching roles the entire time

-- They leave having successfully interviewing the prisoner, and Raven leaves behind a written list of common words in Romani so that they can possibly communicate with the prisoner better

-- As soon as they are on the plane back Damian asks her a myriad of questions from “How many languages do you know?” to “When did you learn that?” and even “Are you a spy? Sleeper agent? Part of a terrorist cell?”

-- “Not as many as you, when I was a child, if I was part of any of that you wouldn’t be asking.” The rest of the trip is spent with her teaching him Romani and even some Romanian

- Dick & Kori eventually get together and after a while they break up. Kori takes some vacation time. At the same Dick has been temporarily reassigned to another unit.

-- Chaos ensues

-- Garfield thinks he should be the interim unit chief, Jaime thinks the same, as does, you guessed it, Damian (Raven doesn’t want to she is comfortable with her role on the team)

-- In the end they are assigned an interim unit chief, SSA Jason Todd, who usually works overseas on covert op missions (not gonna lie this could easily flow into a Jayrae thing)

-- Everyone kind of falls into line, except Damian, Damian doesn’t like him for two reasons

1) He doesn’t act serious about the job 24/7

2) He has been flirting and hitting on Raven the moment he stepped into their sector

-- Damian hates the names he gives her; “Little Bird,” “Sunshine,” “Princess,” “Rae,” (no one calls her Rae, not even Garfield, at least not after the incident) etc.

-- (Little does Damian know, Jason and Raven have worked together before and are actually friends)

-- This all comes to a head when Damian and Jason are the only ones still in the office after a tiring case.

“You shouldn’t do that you know.”

“Do what? All I am doing right now is contemplating where Grayson keeps the liquor.”

“Call Raven all those names, she doesn’t like it.”

“Really? Because if you haven’t noticed she hasn’t exactly asked me to stop.”

“She gets uncomfortable, maybe not to the extent of asking you to stop, but she tenses up and her body language becomes slightly more agitated.”

“You seem to pay a lot of attention in how she reacts to thinks baby brat. Seems to me that you like her.”

“Of course I like her, she is a good friend and reliable teammate.”

“No, you like like her.”

“That presumption is juvenile.”

“But you don’t deny it.”

“Tch.”

-- If anything after that conversation Jason seems to doubled his advances. Which confuses both Damian and Raven. Damian because it is inappropriate and HR will be hearing about this. Raven because she was under the assumption that she and Jason were just friends. (Jason actually does have genuine intentions but is like 60% just egging Damian on)

-- Eventually (far too long for Damian’s tastes), both Dick and Kori return. At first it is sooooooo awkward. Like mom and dad divorced have shared custody but don’t hate each other but also cannot look each other in the eye. ((Was that a mouthful? Good)) No one can really look at each other the same? Though they do have a meeting to sort it out, get everything out in the open.

- Raven’s annual kidnapping/attempt to convert her/torture comes almost exactly one year after Damian joined the team (this is his 2nd time dealing with this)

-- This time Damian is prepared. By prepared I mean Raven doesn’t even leave her apartment before she is taken to safety.

“Damian what is going on?”

“Christmas came early this year that’s what.”

“Christmas? What in gods name are you talking about.”

“God has no dealings in this matter.”

“You do realize you are sounding like a bad action movie? It is not even 6 am and I am in your car going somewhere, I have had little to no sleep and I am barely dressed. What is going on?” Damian hadn’t payed attention to what clothing Raven was wearing. His mind was on one goal. Find Raven, keep Raven safe. His eyes glanced off the road enough to realize she was indeed not properly dressed. Her body was merely adorned with an oversized tee-shirt, tiny barely there shorts and a pair of fluffy socks.

“I apologize, it appears in my haste I did not leave you time to properly clothe yourself. As to why you are here, it seems your father and his people have shortened their waiting time this year from one year to a little more than ten months.” Ravens hands fisted her shirt. “This time I was prepared,” last time he was still new to everything, last time he made mistakes, this time there will be no mistakes. “Since our last encounter with your demon, so to speak, I have been setting in place precautions and safety measures to ensure Nevermore and yours’ safety. I have also been tracking the movements of his big players. If any came close I would mark it down. Multiple are entering the city at this moment. Seeing as you we taken last time I have made plans to ensure that will not happen again.” The car made a snap turn down an unfamiliar street pulling Raven from her clouded gaze.

“So I am going to be okay this time?” Her voice was faint and restraining against hope.

“You’re going to be okay.” His hand lightly held hers. Only to stop the shaking, they told themselves, only to make everything better. “Nevermore is with Titus at my place being watched by a friend of mine. I have already walked Grayson through everything we will not be expected at work this week, but we can work remotely.”

“We?”

“I’m not going to leave you. Ever.”

-- ((Sorry for the blocks of text))

-- As Raven finds out they are at one of Damian’s safe houses. The one least likely to be tied to her. It is fully stocked with food, has security cameras and if needed weapons. The only problem is that the only clothes there are Damians.

“Thought of everything huh?”

“I was following their pattern, I expected to have more time to acquire clothing for you.” (he was looking away and blushing, you cannot tell me he wasn’t)

-- Raven just resigns herself to wearing Damian’s clothes, yes his brain does stop working for a hot second when he sees her in only his clothes.

-- All attempts to try and retrieve codename: Gem of Scath are foiled (like some good math)

-- So many bonding moments happen. Cuddling (pure accident *rolls eyes*), eating together, inside jokes, etc. At one point Damian answers her phone (he disabled and disconnected the tracer) to one of the mob guys after them.

“Hello?”

“You can hide the gem but we will find her.”

“I’m sorry, is there a jewel you are looking for? I don’t think I have and any jewels that I am coveting.”

“We know you are with her! It is but a matter of time until we collect her.”

“I hope you do eventually find whatever you are looking for sir, but I haven’t the slightest idea the gem you speak of. If you could give me a physical description? Is it a ruby, diamond, onyx? Is it round or more of a pear shape?”

“...”

“Well, I will look for it here, but I do not believe I possess what you speak of. Will you give me your number so I can call you back?” (The line cuts dead, and Raven can be seen laughing in the background, the phone was on speaker)

-- Once the team tracks down, arrests and interrogates all of the parties working for Trigon; Raven and Nevermore can go home. Though both are reluctant in their own way. Nevermore has grown attached to Titus, and Raven well Raven has feelings. Sadly, as Raven knows, feelings are dangerous to have in their line of work.

-- Look at Dick and Kori they were together and then they fell apart and the team almost imploded.

-- What about Trigon if he finds out about Damian and how she feels towards him? What kind of danger will he be in then?

-- Like all of her feelings Raven puts them in a box and locks the box away. Not just figuratively, in her safe there is a box with: post its, torn papers, journals, etc. That box has a lock on it. Whenever she has a new feeling that she cannot ignore, like her feelings towards Special Agent Wayne, she takes out the box and writes her feelings down. They can range from a single sentence to pages worth. (Her feelings towards Damian fill a small notebook she has on hand). Once she has written all of her feelings out she places them in the box, locks said box and then places the locked box in her safe, which she then locks.

-- Is this a healthy way to cope with her feelings? Maybe not. But, it is way better than how Damian deals with his. Violence. Also art but violence comes first.

- At this point both Damian and Raven have caught the feelings (highly contagious I hear), which makes this a little awkward and a little not awkward. For one everyone but Raven knows how Damian feels towards her. He does things for her and with her that no one else gets the privilege to.

-- To list a few:

--- He brings her tea whenever he gets himself coffee or tea

--- He talks to her about what he does outside of work, even about his kind of friend definitely not enemy, Jon.

--- They socialize outside of work. Watching bad movies (some of them are not that bad), going to the park with Titus (they once got Nevermore in a leash and walked her), meeting each other before and after work to get breakfast or dinner.

--- He doesn’t glare at her

--- He allows physical contact between the two

--- He worries about her (hello he created an entire plan so that she wouldn’t get kidnapped, with contingencies and everything, garfield would be lucky to get a plan)

--- His eyes light up when she talks, or enters a room, or you know exists in his vicinity

--- He actually smiles around her (Dick caught him smiling once at Raven and he though Damian was having a stroke)

-- Even though everyone knows Damian likes Raven, very few know that Raven likes Damian back. (this only includes; Kori, Dick, Jason, Titus, Nevermore, and Melvin) She does do certain things that give herself away just like Damian.

--The list:

--- When Damian gets frustrated or angry she puts a hand on his arm, or holds his hand

--- She laughs at things he does (light chuckles, or little giggles)

--- She will talk to him about his interests and actively tries to have conversations with him about things unrelated to work.

--- She blushes when he does something unexpected (like a compliment)((Mostly she tries to hide it until he isn’t looking at her))(((Kori has caught the blush before)))

-- Luckily for them it does not take some cliche ‘One suddenly becomes in danger and the other one saves them only to be close to death and then they admit their love for one another and promise to go on a date when the other is healed’ situation.

-- Damian actually asks Raven out after being tipped of by Jason and Dick that she may like him back. Damian finds out when they have days off at the same time and asks her while leaving work.

“Raven, you have this weekend off correct?”

“Yeah I do. I wasn’t planning on doing anything though. Did you have something in mind?”

“Um, yeah, heh, I was wondering if you would do me the pleasure of going to dinner with me tomorrow.” *Awkwardly rubs back of neck*

“Like a date or two friends going to dinner?” *Thinks she sounds harsh* “I am honestly fine with either since we are friends.” *nervous smile*

“Like a date if that is okay with you of course.”

“Yeah, yeah totally that is totally okay with me.” *Starts sounding like a teenage girl who only knows about 10 words, because she’s nervous*

“Good, I’ll be by your place around 1830, if that is okay?” *nerve central, the central nervous system could never*

“Yup that is totally fine with me.”

“Great.”

“Good.” The elevator opens in the knick of time.

“See you tomorrow evening Agent Roth. Have a good night.”

“You too, Agent Wayne, you too.”

-- When Damian does pick her up he feels like his brain is going to explode. She looks absolutely breathtaking. This is just like all the other times they’ve gone to dinner, except this restaurant is slightly fancier and they are on a date.

-- Raven feels as though all her emotions are leaking out at once, she has no idea what she is doing.

-- In the end they have a good time and decide to do it again. Damian does bring up that all of the breakfasts and dinners they regularly do could now be considered dates. Raven does not oppose that switch at all.

- Fast forward a handful of years (like 3?), Damian and Raven are moved in together (Nevermore and Titus are happy about this, they even allow the humans to adopt another pet, a cat named Alfred). Damian is now Supervisory Special Agent Wayne and is in charge of their unit. Raven has retired from field work and now works at the FBI academy and at Virginia State University. In about 6 months Damian is going to propose and Raven will say yes. Their wedding will be small but happy and full of life.

Once again I would like to thank everyone and all the support the previous post got.

Like last time if anything is disjointed, out of place or seems wrong, please go ahead and tell me. I have been working on this since the last one, but have finally had the time to finish it.

I hope the new year will bring us all some good. Possibly more head canons to come.

#damirae #Damian Wayne #raven #Rachel Roth #damian x raven #Teen Titans #Headcanon #How do tags work #dc #demonbirds

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mental-dilemma · 4 years

Text

A Quick Meeting Part 4?

Damian’s an exchange student in Paris taking it easy until an Akuma attacks and he gets to meet ladybug. -----------------------------------------

Ok before everyone starts pancking: I am Emu-Lumberjack I just decided to create a Sideblog for all my writing so that way those who follow me exclusively for that don’t have to deal with the chaos that is my main blog

also I’m sorry it’s taken so long to post this but just between school and work and school and just general exhaustion it’s been hard for me to write.

and as always all credit to the Au goes to @ozmav

pt.1

pt. 2

pt. 3

“I don’t suppose I could bribe you to drop the matter.” Damian said sitting down in Tim’s office. He and Ladybug were situated next to each other while Tim was on the other side of the desk.

“Nope.” He turned to Ladybug, “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself, making sure Damian didn’t disappear and all that. Anyway I’m Tim Drake, Co-Ceo of Wayne enterprises and Damians older brother.”

Ladybug turned to Damian and quietly said, “So does everyone in your family constantly talk like they’re trying to impress a victorian lord?” Damian snorted. Tim, unable to hear what she just said, looked to the two agape.

“At least I have a reason.” Damian responded, this time loudly enough for his elder brother to hear. “Anyway Tim is in CEO mode right now, which is pretty rare. Usually he’s a bumbling zombie dependent on coffee to function. In fact I remember one time when Dick took the last cup he----”

“I’d suggest stopping right there or I’ll tell her about the batcow incident.” Tim interrupted.

“Did you just say batcow? Because I understand each of those words separately.” Ladybug said, and even though her mask still concealed half her face Damian could tell she was really confused.

“Don’t ask. Just don’t.” Damian said quietly.

“Anyway. I never caught your name and considering the fact that your in a mask I assume you’re a hero. Which is surprising because none of us knew Paris had heroes.” Tim cut the two of them off before more could be said.

“Yes that’s becoming a common theme I’m finding,” Marinette began. “My name is Ladybug in the mask. I have a partner, Chat Noir, but he’s currently indisposed, something about paint in his hair.” Damian stifled a laugh as Marinette continued, “We have been operating out of Paris for the last few years, early on we tried contacting the Justice league but Green Lantern told us not to prank call him.”

“Oh did he now.” Tim said, leaning his head forward.

“Yes he did. Thankfully my power allows me to reverse all damage done during a fight. Including any lives lost or monuments destroyed.”

“That sounds like a very useful power. I'm sure that the heroes of Gotham would love to work with you.” There was a twinkle in his eye that Damian knew meant Tim was concocting some scheme. He was about to jump in, but Marinette got there first.

“Yes I’m sure you would but the issue is we currently have our hands full here although from what Damian told me you guys sound much more fun to work with. At least the villains have better costumes.”

Tim noting her wording turned to Damian, “Did you tell her the family secret? You know what Alfred will do if he finds out.”

Damian smirked “I’m not an idiot Drake this was all her. She could rival you for deductive reasoning.” Marinette just sat there looking innocent.

“Well that explains why the two of you were sneaking around together, Ladybug should I assume Damian knows your identity as well?”

“Yep.”

“Well this is going to be a nightmare. But this just means I can formally invite you to Gotham at least. Ha just leave it to the Ice Prince to leak the identity on his first civilian trip abroad.” Tim leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“Actually it was you guys who tipped me off.”

Tim suddenly opened his eyes and looked her straight in the eyes. “Come again.”

“Well it was the fact that no one had spied Robin around Batman while Damian was in France. Then the fact that you were patrolling rather than him tipped me off that Robin might be on a vacation..” Tim just face palmed.

“Of course that would happen, how did we not see it coming.” He muttered to himself. “Wait, that begs another question: how did you two meet.”

Damian blushed and before Ladybug could respond he said “not important, there was an akuma. Now do you need anything else.”

“Actually yeah. Ladybug you mentioned the video you sent to Green Lantern, well Batman found it and wanted us to investigate. He didn’t know Green Lantern had seen it or otherwise he’d be on his way back to Ooa healing from a scolding from Alfred. Dick and Jason wanted to come but Bruce needed someone he could send discreetly and who better than the Co-CEO of Wayne industries who could just be checking up on the Paris branch.” Ladybug was impressed by the scheming having Dick Greyson or Jason Todd come in would stir up villain or media activity but Tim the third son wouldn’t.

“Well if you want we can meet up with my partner later and you can formulate a list of questions. Plus it seems you and Damian have some catching up to do.”

“There was a reason I came to Paris Ladybug. Being forced to talk to Tim was not one of them.” Damian made to leave only for a yoyo to catch his leg. Ladybug smirked at him. “Maybe a five minute chat couldn’t hurt anyone. Family reunion and all that.”

“Great then as long as everyones in agreement I can set up a time with chat later this evening for all of us to talk things through and get a strategy in place.”

“Are you sure about this having the league involved is going to cause a lot of chaos and even more dangerous villains could target Paris.”

“Tim I have dealt with so much crap the last couple of years that at this point I will take Darkseid over Lila…… Oh crap. We forgot about Lila.” Marinette looked at Damian who was coming to the same realization she was. He called out Lila in the bakery, and outed himself as a Wayne.

“Do I want to know?” Tim said rubbing his temples. He did not miss highschool.

“Lets just say school tomorrow’s going to be interesting, and I think we’re going to have to put the meeting on hold till after it. Ladybug and I are going to need to deal with school tomorrow, and caffeine isn’t gonna cut it.” Damian said.

“Then again if we aren’t lucid tomorrow might not be so bad….” Marinette began

“Do not even finish that, you even more than me need sleep. Between fashion, school and heroing you function off an hour.”

“You.. have a point. I’ll brief Chat on the situation on my way home. In the meantime I’ll leave you too to the brotherly bonding I’m sure you need.” she pulled her yoyo from her pocket, “See you tomorrow Damian, and whatever plan you hatch up make sure nit doesn’t include killing anyone.”

“Goodnight Ma--- Ladybug. And no promises.” The boy caught himself before revealing Ladybug's identity. She gave him the look of ‘don’t fuck up my secret identity bird boy’ before jumping out the window to run from rooftop to rooftop.

“So. how long have you had a crush on her.” Tim pulled Damians attention, and Damian was sudden;y very glad he had said nothing about not killing his brother.

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

“Do you think they’ll actually help this time?” Chat’s voice rang over the phone, Marinette had stopped behind one of the chimneys to talk to him in private.

“I don’t know, at least now they are actually considering it rather than just brushing us off as children.” Marinette was tired but they needed to have this chat now, there wouldn’t be any chance to in class tomorrow.

“Yeah, just don’t get your hopes up. They left us to fend for ourselves for 3 years and are only doing this now because of Damian if you didn’t know him then none of this would’ve happened.

“Ok but why does that matter that it’s Damian? They could’ve been doing it because of Jon too.”

“Oh please, you're more dense than our class sometimes. Jon would’ve noted it then forgotten to tell someone, but Damian told Batman right away. Why do you think he did that?”

“Chat I am too tired for this.” Marinette could feel Adrien facepalming through the phone.

“Oh I am not spelling this out for you, this time you get to figure it out yourself.”

“Fine. but next time you need help on your calc homework don’t come running to me.” Marinette hung up on him and made her way home. The parisian streets were nice and quiet for her, no akuma meant maybe another hour of sleep.

Once she was out of the suit she let Tikki rest and got right to work on the new piece she was making for Jagged, he wanted to somehow have the score of his newest piece sewn onto the pants for his next concert, and she had to brainstorm.

Twenty minutes went by.

Then an hour.

Then two.

Finally she put up her pencil and put on her pajamas, as she was falling asleep Adriens words kept replaying in her head, and the meaning slammed into her like a truck. Pulling out her phone she sent one message.

Oh fuck off

tag list: @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @yuulxd @smolplantmum @inarachi02 @notmycupoftea26 @laurcad123 @unknownvsworld @jeminiikrystal @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

#The dilemma writes #Maribat #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #Damianette #Damientte #Chat noir #Kwamii #fics #fanfic #myfic #damian x marinette #platonic ladynoir #platonic adrienette

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rosesgonerogue · 4 years

Text

I didn’t so much fall in love - It kicked me in the face Chapter Four

No matter how hard she tried, Marinette couldn’t deny the fact that she found Timothy Drake incredibly attractive. But she had to push it down for the sake of professionalism. In all actuality, all of the Wayne brothers were attractive, but she and Tim just… clicked. She wanted to stay here and talk to him, pick his mind about his likes and dislikes. It really did not help that Leo was insistent that Tim got Ladybug red lining.

Because that was huge. Leo knew Ladybug’s identity, and he was staunchly protective of the heroine because of that. He knew something, or intuited something about Tim that Marinette hadn’t caught onto yet. Leo’s insistence was more than curious, and it consumed enough of Marinette’s thoughts that she managed to avoid pondering the fact that the majority of the family had at least some trace of the Lazarus Pits on them.

The Lazarus Pits were something that Marinette had only learned about from the book, but the sensation was unmistakable. They were dark, twisted Miraculous magic, a result of a wish born from the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses. It was a magic that was able to heal someone at the expense of their sanity, or sometimes their humanity, at least so the kwamis had reported. But the magic was faded - it had been at least a few years since any of them had interacted with the pools. It had taken her some time to confirm the feeling, but now Marinette was sure of it. If the Wayne family was indeed the “Bat Family,” as Gotham had dubbed the vigilantes, then they were involved in some things beyond even the Justice League.

If that was the case, then Tim should have been the last person she focused on. He was remarkably free of the vile magic. Even knowing that, as well as Marinette’s responsibilities as the Guardian of the Miraculous, she couldn’t help but gravitate towards Tim.

She really wanted nothing more than to talk to the man for hours, but Marinette couldn’t. It felt like she was with her friends and it was late enough that she knew logically that she needed to leave, but it also felt like she couldn’t help but leave a part of herself behind when she did. But Marinette was an adult, with a job and a child to take care of. Purposely tearing her eyes away from him , she looked at the clock. “Well, it’s getting late, Tim. I’m sure you have important business to attend to, and I have a number of suits to make. It was lovely meeting you, and thank you once again for being so attentive to Leo.”

“It was my pleasure, Marinette.”

Slipping away, Marinette couldn’t escape the thoughts and emotions pounding in her mind. The Wayne family was truly an eclectic group.

Alfred waited for her at the doorway, his posture perfect. “On behalf of the Wayne family, I thank you, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

Maybe it was just the residual emotions from the Waynes - because there were many - but now that she wasn’t distracted, something felt… different about the butler. Miraculous.

“And thank you for all of your assistance, Monsieur. I’m afraid I missed your last name.”

“Pennyworth, Madame. Sir Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Well, Sir Pennyworth, I hope to see you again soon,” Marinette said warmly, squeezing Leo’s hand. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You as well,” he said, inclining his head.

A car was waiting outside for them, and as Marinette was buckling Leo in, he said, “Monsieur Pennyworth needs something blue like Duusu.”

His eyes were grave - Marinette often thought that she wasn’t capable of possibly fathoming half of the things that went through his mind. Apparently being born to the guardian and wielder of the Miraculous had some side-effects - like his scary accurate intuition.

“Don’t worry,” she said, ruffling his hair. “I’ll make something special for Mr. Pennyworth. But if he’s blue like Duusu, why is Monsieur Drake Ladybug red?”

“He matches you,” Leo said simply before becoming fixated on something outside of the car.

Well. Marinette got to decipher what that was supposed to mean alone, it seemed.

**********

As soon as the designer was gone, Damian huffed, crossing his arms. “She at least seems marginally capable.”

“She’s more than marginally capable, Little D,” Dick said, shaking his youngest brother. “She’s MDC.”

“Are we going to discuss the fact that she’s the tourist from patrol the other night?” Jason asked, lounging across an armchair.

“The one you had to get out of a tree? Why would she-”

“No, the one that took down Scarecrow single-handedly and then managed to kick the replacement in the face,” Jason said, snickering.

“Are you kidding me?” Dick asked, eyes alight with excitement. “She’s that one?”

“It was probably just adrenaline,” Damian muttered. “You said she had been looking for her child, didn’t you?”

“Speaking of the kid, he sees way too much,” Jason butted in. “It’s like he can look into your soul. And you can’t adopt either of them, Bruce, no matter how much they look like Waynes.”

“There are other options,” Bruce said dismissively. “But if we want to keep our identities a secret, we need to be especially cautious. Tim, I want you to do a background check now that we have a full name. Nothing too deep, she hasn’t given us any real reason to be suspicious yet.”

“Nonsense,” Damian said with a curled lip. “We should have done a full investigation before she even set foot in Gotham.”

“Damian, you will show her respect,” Bruce warned.

“Hey B, do you know anything about a Parisian hero named Ladybug?” Tim asked. “Leo was talking about her like she was a pretty big deal.”

“The name is familiar. She and a handful of other heroes popped up in Paris a little less than ten years ago. There isn’t much information on them, but they seem harmless enough, leading recycling efforts and such. They’re likely more public mascots than actual heroes.”

“That would be kind of nice, wouldn’t it?” Dick wondered idly. “What would it be like, worrying about recycling and friendship more than actual crime?”

“Either the Parisian cops are damn good at their job, or the city is a disaster,” Jason speculated. “The more I think about it, Paris sounds like a great vacation spot. You should take us there on our next family trip, Bruce.”

“We don’t do family trips,” Damian sneered.

“You should take us on family trips, Bruce.”

“Think of all of the family bonding we could do!” Dick exclaimed with stars in his eyes. While they all argued about whether or not a family trip was feasible, or even worthwhile, Tim slipped away to his room.

His mind was bogged down with visions of blue eyes and a musical laugh. The only word he could think of to describe how he felt was “bewitched,” but Tim felt like that was far from just to the source of the problem.

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door and none other but Dick Grayson pushed his way into the room. “Everything okay, Tim?” he asked, eyes clearly concerned.

“I’m fine, I just… This is completely embarrassing. I was just… distracted.”

Dick scrutinized him for a moment before his face cleared. “Oh. Oh.”

“Don’t make it sound like that,” Tim said, throwing a pillow. “I just… I don’t think I’ve spoken that easily to a woman ever. Marinette… She was amazing.”

“I did notice that you two were getting along. It’s okay if you like her, Timmie. In case you haven’t gotten the memo, the whole vigilante life doesn’t immediately exclude you from having a love life.”

“I know, I’ve seen it, but - Ugh, it’s all so confusing. I think I could really, really like her, but she’s too bright, too precious. Gotham would drain the life out of her, just like it does to everything else.”

Dick thought for a moment before ruffling his brother’s hair. “First of all, I think you’re not giving Marinette enough credit. She’s already been through an attack, and it was with Scarecrow, no less. Somehow she managed to take him down, and she almost took you out too. Gotham’s got nothing on that girl.”

“I know, it’s just hard to reconcile the Marinette I just met with the one that kicked me in the face,” Tim said, rubbing his temples. “What’s second?”

“Hmm?”

“You said ‘first of all.’ That means that you’ve got a second part.”

Moving to Tim’s doorway, Dick looked back with half a smile. “Second of all, no one ever said you had to stay in Gotham.”

Taglist:

@ii-fox-demon @queen-in-a-flower-crown @novaloptr @saphiraazure2708 @iamabrownfox @smolplantmum @redhoodedtoad @loysydark @slytheringinger300 @finallyaniguana @brokenwordsarehard2 @abrx2002 @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @moonlightstar64 @marinettepotterandplagg @black-streak @purplesundaze @maribat-is-lifeblood @the-fusionist @river9noble @chocolatecatstheron @darkthunder1589 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @dast218 @k-poplunardreams @meanids @changelinggarden @ladybug-182 @pawsitivelymiraculous

Note:

This chapter is short on Leo, which is as much as shame to me as it is to all of you, I’m sure. I fully intend on making up for that later. Let me know what you all think. I’m still fairly new to writing romance, so I could use all the input I can get!

#maribat #timinette #marinette x tim

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internalsealpanic · 4 years

Text

I Will be Your Tim Drake for Tonight (1) (Jason Todd/ Reader)

Summary: Preferring to do anything but your physics project, you decide to accepts Tim’s proposal. It’s simple. He does your project, you try to figure out whether Jason Sionis is criminal. Easy, right?

masterlist

A/n: This takes place in a world where Jason is adopted by Black Mask. Inspired by Building Interest by Zoeleo.

The events and characterization in this story are very heavily based on Zoeleo's Long Term Investment series. It is fantastic and I really highly recommend all of her fics.

a/n: For clarification, Reader does have psychic powers but it only lets her sense people's emotions physically. No mind-reading. Her power is more like an overactive sense of empathy which may force her to dissociate into someone else.

There will be violence and mentions of alcoholism (used as coping mechanism for physical pain) and chronic pain.

As for the additional warning, an animal is harmed but it is barely described. I could not bring myself to actual describe it but the aftermath is described.

I also just converted this from an OC so I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

Without further a do:

Your skin itches as you make your way through the crowd. It wasn't the suit. After all, Alfred Pennyworth was incapable of doing wrong. It was the sea of hands patting your back, petting your head, and pinching your cheeks made every inch of skin want to slough off. Tim owed you. He owed you big time. Then again he's back at the manor tackling your physics project and making sure Gotham doesn't set itself on fire while Batman is on ‘vacation’.

You should be fine. It’s not like Brucie asked you to investigate a suspected criminal who also happens to be Roman Sionis’ heir. Nope, no pressure there. Thanks Bruce. You’re clad in blue contacts, a black wig, makeup, and a stolen suit. As safe as you felt in someone else's skin, you still felt like you were gonna fall over. Maybe it's because you were dumb enough not to bring your cane.

The room was dizzyingly full of people. Your mind goes haywire. Jumping from one mind to the next. Dipping into every emotion it could stick itself into. It was almost overwhelming enough for you to forget about the ache in your leg. You knew this night was gonna be far longer than you could stand. You needed a drink. Or 9.

"Hey, no drinking! You're underaged!" Dick nearly shrieked, plucking your fifth(?) flute of champagne. You wouldn't be in a few months. Really he was being quite unreasonable to the drunk person in front of him. Looking him dead in the eyes, you wave another server over and take 2 flutes of champagne. "I'm fine Dick. I've drunken harder stuff than this."

"No," Dick said firmly snatching the 2 flutes from your hand.

"Big bro pleeeaaasee" You drawl sweetly knowing Dick was a sucker for that move. Dick tries to look unmoved but you could see in the slump of his shoulders that he wanted to give in. "I'm having an episode," The word episode felt strange and wrong but there really was no other way to describe it. "and I don't have any painkillers on me." You added hastily.

"Fiiine-" Dick whines, resolve crumbling to dust. Handing back only one flute of champagne, he scolds: "Just don't get shit faced. We're here on a mission."

"Yes, motheeeer,"

Without missing a beat, you down it, feeling the tearing in your head beginning to fade.

"Jesus, calm down," Dick said taking the now empty flute from you.

You are less than surprised by the fact that he isn't fazed by being called mother at this point. It might just be the alcohol. The Powers might not understand the concept of fun but they sure do have taste in alcohol.

While Dick lectures you on safe alcohol consumption and Babs laughs unhelpfully, You feel the press of another person's mind. The other 2 seem to notice it too. Being pulled out of their reverie, they turn to greet them.

"Target at 2'oclock" Babs whispers but your mind had for some reason forgotten how English worked. Instead, it drifted to the simple mind coming closer to them. Almost too quickly, you dropped down to your knees. Your joints complained but you could feel your mind smooth as you placed a gentle hand on the dog's fur.

The dog whuffs with glee as if to say "Yes! There! Pat there!".

Absorbed in the dog's uncomplicated happiness, you began to piece yourself back together and the pain in your head receded.

" Who's a good girl? You are! You are!"

The dog yips happily. Its smooshed face pressing into your hand. You forget the party until-

Dick coughs clearing his throat, laughter bright in his blue eyes.

You, for the first time, notice the person beside the dog. It was their target, Jason Sionis, stretching out his hand to shake yours.

"Oh- Uh- it's just your dog- She's- Hi, I'm Tim Drake." you shoot up to shake his hand. You notice the patches of scabs and scars on his knuckles. You’re pretty sure Dick or Tim could give him a run for his money if they didn't have makeup on. Though that just might speak more to their-as Damian puts it- incompetence.

Your eyes flicker to Dick momentarily as he tries so hard not to laugh.

"Well, it was nice to make your acquaintance," Jason says flatly as he turns his attention to Dick and Babs for a more coherent discussion. You weren’t entirely certain that you offended him but you were probably close.

You want to say that it's his eyes that you notice first. They were a striking shade of ultramarine, a terrifying facsimile of the ocean. They made you shudder. You would have rather noticed how nicely he filled out his suit. The man was made of muscle under that well-tailored suit. You file the image for further appreciation later. But, unfortunately, you are far too accustomed to checking your brothers for wounds for your eyes to not immediately flicker towards the scar on his face. It takes everything in you not to stare at the scar cleaving down the flesh of his cheek rigging the right side of his face into a permanent grin. Thankfully, he leaves them saying something about having business somewhere else.

Sure, the guy falls into Gotham’s pattern of ruining your face and turning to a life of crime but so far he hasn’t really shown anything concrete. Plus, he’s really nice to his dog. No one that nice to a dog could possibly be the Red Death, Black Mask’s shiniest, and rumored to be his most brutal, new enforcer. Then again, your mother always did treat Anatoli like a king.

"Tim was right. You can act like him. You even got him shoving his own foot in his mouth down pat. Great job. " Dick chuckles patting you on the shoulder jostling you out of your thoughts.

You sigh. "The next time I go undercover I'm going alone. I don't even know why you're here."

"I think you've demonstrated why."

You- annoyed, embarrassed, and feeling the marching in your skull coming back- jab "Alright Fabio , you befriend Mr.Pretty boy-" .

"That's pretty mean eve-"

"I didn't mean it to be mean-"you honestly didn't but you were byelingual at this point. "-I think he's pretty. Scars are sexy and all of that carp. "

"I am very concerned."

"You should be. I'm out of booze and the dog just walked away. " you hissed rubbing the side of your head before stomping off to look for more drinks.

You feel your head jack rabbiting again. The staff had, as per some evil person's request (Likely Dick or maybe Babs), cut you off from the booze. You find yourself wandering around until your feet take you outside. The cool night air and the nearly freezing bricks sooth you warmed skin as you slide against it.

"What? Did you come out 'ere to watch my dog piss?" a slightly familiar baritone voice chuckled.

"As fun as that sounds, I just escaped Dick Grayson. I believe that, in itself, is reason enough to go outside and take in the 'fresh' Gotham night air. " you snark, looking up expecting him to grin at you but was greeted with a look of concern. You’ve seen it before. Your hand almost automatically makes its way to your nose. You felt a thick liquid brush against the pads of your fingers. If you looked at them, you’d likely see them covered in blood.

You shrug and brush your deep red sleeve against your face. You probably didn't get all of it based on the crooked grin on his face.

"Shit kid, they'll think I punched you." Jason chuckles good-naturedly. You know he's not nervous. He’s charming enough to talk his way out of it.

"Relax, Dick will likely say I deserved it if they do think you punched me but that is highly unlikely seeing these episodes are an open secret after I bled on Mrs. Yavorski's satin dress a few years ago. "

"Well, in that case, you want a smoke? Should take the edge off." Jason says it as a joke holding out a pack of cigarettes to you. Everyone knows Wayne kids are good kids.

You, feeling particularly cheeky, take the cigarette between his lip and take a long drag, inhaling and letting your eyes slide close.

He makes a quiet choking noise. Away from the sea of minds, you can feel his eyes on you. Wide and disbelieving. A cocktail of interest, embarrassment, excitement, and delight swirls in his mind. It might have been attraction or it might just have been amusement. You shouldn't be too surprised by the reaction. Tim is quite the knock out even when he looks dead on his feet. His confusion only lasts five seconds before you cough out "Christ, it's just as bad as Bruce said it was."

You hand him back the cigarette laughing and coughing into your sleeve.

"So, did your brother tell you to apologize?" He says, clearing his throat not really looking you in the eyes. You can still see the faint speck of color on his face.

"Well, he didn't say it. He doesn’t really have to and I do have manners contrary to popular belief. Plus! In my defense, your dog is cute. "

"Lizzie is, isn't she?" Jason smiles patting Lizzie on her head. It was a soft gesture. Something you really didn't expect from a supposedly hardened criminal let alone someone raised by Roman Sionis.

You crouch down to Lizzie's level and put your hands on the dog's face. Lizzie happily nuzzles into your hands.

"You have a dog?"

" Depends, does Dick count?"

Jason snorts. "Do you ever think before you speak?"

"Not when I'm drunk and bleeding, no."

"How drunk are you?"

You mime counting. "As far as Dick knows, I'm 1 to 2 flutes drunk. As far as the staff knows, I'm 7 flutes drunk."

"I should probably get you back to your brother then" Jason laughs, pulling you by the arm. You notice for the first time just how big his hands really are.

"No, I-"

Gunshots. Pain. Panic. They ring in equal measure to you as a black van pulls up in the alley.

"Fuck! Box!"

A man in a dark suit crumples to the ground. You recognize him. He was part of Jason's security team. In a flurry of movement, Jason's by his side. You think he's checking the injuries- which in your opinion is at once the smartest and dumbest move you could do in this situation- but he-is in fact-checking for a gun.

Gun in hand, Jason begins shooting at the men.

You think to grab a stray brick or something but you knew your best chance was to crouch low and maybe convince Jason to do the same. But based on the murder radiating from him, that was highly unlikely.

Lizzie runs out in front of them to protect Box and Jason. It goes as well as expected.

Lizzie whines into your touch. The tendrils of your mind desperately trying to keep Lizzie there. You want to scream. Your mind surges trying to dip into someone else but Jason's anger and grief consume you. You want to charge at them, rip their throats out, tear them limb from limb. But it's Jason who does it. His body launches forward faster than you could speak.

The men in masks were just as fast. One of them incapacitates him with a well-placed metal pipe to the head. His whole body hits the pavement with one loud thud. Your breath catches.

"There's two of them,"

"What do you mean there's two of them?"

"The boss said black hair, blue eyes, and a fucked up face"

"Did he say what kind of fucked up?"

"Not really"

You want to squawk about how nosebleeds don't really count. Given, it is bleeding like it’s auditioning to be the next Niagara falls.

"Just take them both!" barks a rough voice from the van.

You think to make a break for it but fast as you are(not really). Your head was still ringing and you couldn't really take them out on your own.

You hold your hands up in surrender. "I'll go quietly. I know the drill. "

The men look at each other clearly confused by your cooperation but not really willing to question it.

They throw cuffs on your wrist and literally throw you into the van like a sack of potatoes. Not that they treat Jason any better. He looks dizzy and pale.

"Are you-"

With a heave, he throws up on "your" shoes. You want to laugh. You really do. You also just want to cry.

Tim is going to kill you. No, Alfred will. If you’re lucky-which you never are- Dick will suffocate you with a hug before they ever get to you.

Maybe just maybe, the kidnappers will do it for you.

Yeah, right.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd #tim drake #batfam #barbara gordon #dick grayson #false face au #batsis #damian wayne #batfamily x reader #nightwing #dc fanfiction #dc comics

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otpnessmess · 4 years

Text

Of Casual Encounters And Late Nights Pt.2

Here it is! I don't know if it's as long as you wanted but it's almost double the first chapter. I hope you like it!

First Next Ao3

A week went by where Jason managed to avoid meeting Ladybug again while investigating, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t heard of her. Akuma attacks were as frequent as ever and gave him an opportunity to learn more about the terrors that had been plaguing Paris for years now apparently. He sent all new info on it to his family, who couldn’t believe none of it had reached them up until that point. Bruce was feeling particularly flabbergasted among them.

“You mean to tell me there’s been a terrorist in Paris for years, one that’s been destroying the city twice a week, and we knew absolutely nothing about it?” He seemed to be going through the seven stages of grief before excusing himself to call Diana.

Meanwhile, Jason’s brothers piled up in front of the computer screen wanting to hear more about the heroes and their work. Tim was looking up information on the internet while Dick asked questions nonstop about their powers, and their suits, and if he had had the chance to talk to them yet.

“They sometimes stay back after the attacks, but their powers have some kind of time limit so those are rare occasions, or so I’ve heard. They’re all proficient fighters and each have their own set of powers and weapon. Ladybug’s powers are the most impressive by far”

The mention of her name threw him right back into the memory of the night they first met. Despite resenting not being given an opening to talk to her more then, Jason had to admit leaving had been the right choice. He wanted to stay in the shadows as long as possible, and dealing with the police on his second night in the city wouldn’t have made that easy for him. Adding to that, even though he was quite stubborn and didn’t want to accept it, he felt curious about the spotted heroine. She was sassy and clever and, if the two battles she had this week were anything to go by, her abilities to strategize rivaled Tim’s.

He came back to the present with a jolt when Dick whined about him not paying attention, eliciting a snort from both him and Damian, who also looked at the eldest with a sneer. “You’re 29 Grayson, no one that age should be making those types of noises.” Jason would rather die than saying it out loud, but sometimes he did miss the dumbasses that were his brothers.

“You know, I don’t think we would have believed this was real even if someone had told us about it. I found a... Ladyblog? It has videos of almost every attack from the last 4 years as far as I can see, and these look every bit as outlandish as I expected them to. There’s this one where apparently the whole city was flooded.” Tim pulled up the video in the peripheral monitors for the others to see and, lo and behold, there was the video from the day Ondine had drowned Paris. Faint screams could be heard in the background as the person recording managed to get to the roof of a building just in time to see the people still left on the street be swiped by the giant wave. From then on it was all silent. “This is horrible, so many people must have died during this. How did they manage to recover? I’m sure the news of Paris underwater should’ve popped up SOMEWHERE.”

“They didn’t because it didn’t last more than an afternoon.” Jason ran a hand through his hair impatiently. The whole week he had been aching to go out as Red Hood but couldn’t risk meeting Ladybug and it was making him jittery. “That’s what Ladybug’s power is. She just….reverts everything. I haven’t been able to find out how yet, but I’ve been told it must be magic or some shit.”

“Reverts everything? Just like that? Like….turning back time?” Dick looked confused trying to come up with a rational explanation

“I don’t think so. Everyone except the victims remember everything that happened. It’s more of a cure, if you will. She fixes everything, makes a new Eiffel Tower appear, brings the dead back to life, you know, no big deal.” Jason couldn’t help but chuckle at their faces. “I know, if anyone tried to tell me this before I saw it myself I wouldn’t have believed it either.”

A moment of silence on his brothers’ end was interrupted by the return of Bruce. “Diana is positively furious right now. Apparently someone received a message from these heroes years ago and thought it was a joke, so they dismissed it. Diana asked to see the message and just unleashed hell on the poor guy after watching it. It seems her mother was a former Ladybug and she grew up knowing about the magic of the ‘Miraculous’” He said the word in a way that made his sons think he was as confused as they were “The League is planning to make a trip to Paris as soon as possible to assess the situation.”

Now that brought a frown to Jason’s face. “I know I’m usually the reckless one here, but listen to me for a moment. You’re just planning on barging in here, with an angry Wonder Woman, and a probably scared shitless League, to battle a guy who makes you his minion if you show the tiniest hint of a negative emotion? Imagine if Diana got akumatized. You must really want the apocalypse to start huh?”

He scanned their faces and wasn’t surprised to see skepticism and some smirks too. This was so not typical of him. Jason was a shoot first, ask second kinda guy, and he used to enjoy killing a little too much for it to be healthy. But he remembered what Ladybug had told him about resorting to the least amount of violence possible, and he was honestly worried about what could happen if three dozen superheroes just showed up one day to a fight. “Listen, as far as I can see, Ladybug and her team have things covered here. Give me some time to gather more information and maybe I can find a way for her and Red Hood to have a meeting. I’ll ask her if she still wants our help. But until then, you should refrain from bringing anyone here. Unless you want panic to run rampant among the citizens because the whole Justice League came.”

Snickers could be heard coming from Tim and Dick. Even Damian was trying not to show his amusement at the situation. “Who would’ve thought Todd actually had a brain. We should go if only to check whether he’s been replaced by a clone or something”

“Oh fuck off Demon Spawn, I can be smart too if I want to."

Their father seemed to be mulling over his words before sighing and nodding. “Alright. I think we can go along with what you said for now, but I want you to keep us updated regularly, and to inform us if something out of the ordinary happens. If you need us there, we’ll be on alert. And I expect that meeting with Ladybug to happen sooner rather than later. Also don’t forget why you’re originally there, we have to gather more information on what the Penguin is planning."

“You got it Brucie.” He made fingers guns at the screen with a click of his tongue. “Expect it to be at least a week until I have some big news for you, but I’ll try to make it happen as quickly as possible. And worry not about my mission, I’m almost done with it. Now my dear family, if you’ll excuse me, it’s already 2am and I would like to pretend to be a tourist at least for a day tomorrow. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

He quickly ended the call and face planted on his bed. This was going to be a long mission. One week in and he was already exhausted. He wasn’t lying when he said he was close to finishing the mission he was originally sent to Paris for, though. He had infiltrated the goons quickly and efficiently, and managed to hear about a drug shipment due to arrive in a couple weeks together with a human one. As soon as he got the information as to where he’d call his family and they could resolve the problem easily. For now though, he couldn’t help but want to keep them away a bit longer. Be it because, even though he loved his brothers (not that he’d ever tell them), he wanted some time alone, or be it because he wanted more time to try and figure out Ladybug, he still wasn’t completely sure.

If you asked him, he would deny it to his dying breath that he was interested in the heroine, but something about her made him want to get closer and know more about her. In spite of the great amount of knowledge the public had on her, she was surrounded by an aura of mystery and something else that Jason couldn’t pinpoint, which had him turning in his sleep ever since that encounter in the alley. It also didn’t help that she seemed to be around the same age as him, her suit doing her great favours in all her red and black. Alright. Maybe he thought she was a bit attractive. Very attractive?

“No. Nope. Not going there.” He got up and decided to ignore that part of his brain as of now. For no particular reason whatsoever. It was only normal to want to know more about the person protecting the city. Call it a professional interest, thank you very much.

The dark haired man decided to take advantage of having an expensive suite for once and took a long bath while doing some more research on Paris. He was indeed planning to walk around the city the next day after all. When he was done, Jason headed to the bed and fell asleep promptly. Dreams full of back alleys and superheroes.

As luck would have it, it didn’t take long for the both of them to meet yet again. Only maybe not in the way the Gotham vigilante would have hoped for. Set on at least enjoying this pseudo-vacation he was gifted, Jason left his hotel the next morning to visit the most popular places in the city. The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc of Triumph and the Champs Élysées were the places he had chosen to visit during the morning and early afternoon, but, even though his main goal was to distract himself from the tasks at hand, he couldn’t will away the questions roaming around his head.

How was he going to contact Ladybug? He wanted to do it as Red Hood, but he didn’t want the heroine of Paris to distrust him since he was pretty sure his reputation would precede him. He was known for being the most ruthless of the batfam, the only thing keeping him from killing criminals once he was done with them was Batman’s No killing under any kind of circumstances rule (which if you asked him was a special kind of bullshit, some of them did deserve to rot in hell in his opinion), and he wasn’t sure if Ladybug would be as willing to hear him out as she may one of his brothers or father. However, his only other option would be to approach her as Jason Todd, one of Bruce Wayne’s adopted sons. He didn’t even know whether Ladybug would care about his family name. This wasn’t his city. And on the off chance that she might have recognized him… He was still a mere civilian. One that had, on top of that, to explain his connection to the Gotham vigilantes without giving away any of their identities. Jason knew his hands were tied. Red Hood had to be the one to try and get the attention of the spotted hero. Knowing there was no other option didn't make him happy about it though.

Once he was done with this line of thinking his brain decided to go back to the Penguin. He was trying to instill one of the worst types of businesses in Paris and he couldn’t wait to put a stop to it. As much as he knew drug trafficking to be terrible, he was of the opinion that people who engaged in (as well as profited off of) human trafficking should have a special circle of hell destined for them. Preferably in the very depths of it.

Jason was very much aware that, for as long as he remained in this city, negative emotions had to be controlled and dissipated as quickly as possible to avoid an akumatization. Especially those of someone with the skills and knowledge he had. He had a lot of the latter in strange topics, most of which he acquired growing up during his training. And albeit he wasn’t sure whether it would actually be useful to Hawkmoth or not, he would rather not put it to the test. All of this, however, was sent to the back burner for a second as Jason's thoughts strayed towards what he would like to do to the Gotham villain when he captured him.

Being so busy imagining the 30 different methods of torture he would like to inflict upon the Penguin had made him completely disregarded his surroundings, however. Coming back to his senses, his brain pointed out they were standing at the door of what seemed like a very nice patisserie, just in time for his stomach to growl, his lunch seemingly having been digested some time ago.

‘Maybe something sweet is exactly what I need right now’

Some days had passed since Marinette met Jason, and though he was still burning in the back of her mind, she had way too many things to worry about during the day to remember him often. At night, however, the questions she had originally asked herself the first night continued to plague her, and since Tikki told her not to worry about it too much, the designer saw wise to keep her train of thought to herself. She wasn’t even sure why her brain seemed so fixed on this stranger she had only met once. Sure, he was involved in a fight, and seemed to be a foreigner, but it wasn’t that uncommon for petty altercations to break out around the city while she patrolled. Also this was Paris, for Kwamis’ sake. One of the biggest tourist capitals of the world. There was no reason why this Jason guy should’ve stuck to her mind as he did. Yet here she was. In the middle of her afternoon shift at the bakery. Still thinking about him.

A chime coming from the door brought her out of her stupor. But as she looked up, ready to greet the new customer, she suddenly froze, and her brain could only supply her with the word green.

Green eyes she had only got a quick glance into a week ago were now in front of her and the color was even more intense as they reflected the sunlight rays that entered through the bakery’s windows.

There you have it peeps and pals! I'll try to update sometime again this week in between Daminette December.

Tag list:

@18-fandoms-unite-08 @bamagirl513 @j-a-n-e--d-o-e @dawnwave16

#jasonette #jason x marinette #maribat #of casual encounters and late nights #miraculous ladybug #part 2 #liswrites #ml x dc #marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain-cheng #jason todd

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itawonka-creates · 5 years

Text

Seabourne Burnouts: Part 10 - No Longer Adrift

Maribat! On Deck AU

Thank you @particularlygeeky and @imfreakingmagical for beta reading and @particularlygeeky for chapter name idea!

Start [Here] [Part 9] [Part 11]

Bruce was getting more and more frustrated as the days passed. The surveillance videos from the boat and from the jail didn’t give him anything to work with. He passed through each video, frame by frame, countless times. He watched as the pirates seemed to materialize out of nowhere, there was no other ship passing, they were in the middle of the ocean and were suddenly being invaded.

He rubbed his eyes, watching the oddly similar henchmen rampage through the halls. They didn’t even look to be looking for something like the gunman said, they were just going through the ship causing chaos. He slammed his fist on the table re-watching the pirates in the jail cells suddenly disappear without a trace, leaving behind two young boys. One was injured in his leg, shot. He slowed it down and watched as the camera seemed to glitch and show a purple-black screen before the camera came back into focus and everyone was gone.

Bruce was running through the list of known villains in his head. The gunman said joker was a part of this, didn’t he? He mumbled to himself, “Is Scarecrow a part of this?” He shook his head, “No. No. He messes with minds, not cameras.” He let out an exasperated sigh before sitting back down in his chair. He rubbed his temples and groaned, “None of my theories make any sense, all the villains are in Gotham. They wouldn’t come all the way to Europe to rob me. It would be easier just to raid the manor while it was empty.” He ran his fingers through his hair, “None of them are that stupid.” He thought for a moment before laughing to himself, “Okay, maybe Harley.”

“So are you gonna keep talking to yourself in the dark or are you going to actually join us on this cruise?” He quickly turned to see Tim in the doorway.

Bruce allowed his eyes to adjust to the hallway lights and pinched his nose, “Tim, don’t do that.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

Bruce rolled his eyes and smirked, “Isn’t this conversation usually the other way around?”

“Bruce I’m serious. We haven’t seen you in days.” Tim narrowed his eyes, looking at the footage on the screen, “Oh, that’s what you’ve been up to.”

Bruce closed the footage and turned off the computer, “Barbara and I have been looking at this footage forwards, backwards, frame by frame.”

“And?”

Bruce looked disheartened and bitter, “Nothing. They just disappeared. No one saw anything, no residents ever reported anything, nothing. They vanished.” He shook his head, “Usually they leave a clue or lead or something I can work with. This time? Nothing. I’ve checked back in with Gotham and no one has heard anything about a job to overtake a ship. All the villains are accounted for too.”

Tim hummed, “But the one guy had Joker’s laughing gas.”

“I know.” Bruce stood up and stretched out his back until he heard a crack, “What day is it?”

“Bruce, seriously?” Bruce looked at Tim with a very serious expression and Tim rolled his eyes, “It’s Wednesday.”

Bruce’s eyes widened slightly, “I’ve been down here for over a week?”

“Apparently.” Tim went over to Bruce’s side and looked over his mentor, “I swear, Alfred would’ve never let this happen.” Tim straightened out some of his clothes and Bruce yawned, finally letting the exhaustion hit him. Tim sighed, “Have you been keeping up with everything?”

“I know about the Akuma attacks if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, I meant with your son.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at Tim and Tim just smirked, “Come on, you’ll want to see this.” Tim opened the door and motioned for Bruce to follow him, “Besides, you need to go back to your room. Seriously, you need to bathe.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and walked out into the hallway, letting Tim lead the way as they walked out of their little maze below deck up to the higher floors. Tim continued up until they were walking towards a balcony overlooking the main deck, Jason and Adrien already there. Jason turned back and grinned, “He’s alive! Who knew?”

Adrien turned around and smiled, “Nice to see you again, sir.”

“Bruce is fine, Adrien.”

Adrien smiled and nodded before turning his attention back over the balcony. Jason led Bruce over to the balcony and pointed at two figures standing closely together by the railings. “What am I looking at here?”

“That, my dear Bruce, is your blood son actually bonding with someone.” Jason grinned and did everything in his power to not burst out laughing at Bruce’s shocked expression. The bags under his eyes only made the look more exaggerated, making it even harder not to laugh.

“That’s not Damian.”

Adrien snickered, “It is and that there next to him is our little Marinette.” He sighed and leaned against the rails, “They’ve gotten very close.”

Tim let out a small ‘Ha!’ before turning back to Bruce, “We found out they do this practically every night after they’ve visited the captain and think everybody else has gone to sleep. They don’t do anything but talk, sometimes they lean on each other, but it’s still cute to see.”

“I’m more so surprised you three haven’t interrupted them.” Bruce turned to see Jason and Tim look slightly offended before the two shrugged and nodded, knowing damn well Bruce was right. “So why aren’t you guys crashing the party?”

“Because I won’t let them.” Bruce turned to see Alya, Nino, and Dick walking up the hallway. All of them were in pajamas and looked amused. “I refuse to let your sons ruin this for my best friend.” She nudged Dick forward, “Just caught this one trying to interrupt.”

“I just wanted to know what they were talking about!” Dick smiled nervously under Bruce’s tired glare before the old bat turned his attention back over the balcony. Dick relaxed and looked at the couple, “You know Damian is doing a lot better.”

“Is he now?”

“Alya, can you show him the photos?” Alya chuckled before handing Bruce her phone. Bruce scrolled through the feed before landing on a few photos. It was mainly of the group of classmates, but Damian was one of them. To a stranger, you’d think it was just a photo of friends. They all looked like they were having fun, even in the photos where some were squabbling with each other or where Damian looked like he was in the middle of scolding someone, and it looked natural. To Bruce, it was like looking at a different child altogether. He found a photo of the three boys holding bags from the day they first docked and smiled. “He looks so normal. It’s crazy, right?”

Bruce nodded and handed the phone back to Alya, “Make sure I get a copy of all those photos.”

Alya smirked, “Only if I get my interview, Bats?”

Bruce tense and Tim jumped in, “She thinks you’re Batman. Don’t humor her.”

Alya glared at Tim, “You’re just mad because I have way more leads than you do.”

Bruce blinked and turned to Tim, “Leads on what?”

Nino snickered, “He thinks Marinette is Ladybug.”

Bruce looked back at the girl next to Damian, “Is she?”

“She has to be. No one is that badass without some kind of history of crime-fighting.” Jason turned to Bruce and shrugged, “Plus, she took that night of the raid. She came up with a plan on the spot and, most importantly, bossed you around.” Jason watched as the gears in Bruce’s head begin to turn and smiled, “I’m telling you, she’s Ladybug.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, “Uh-huh. And I’m Carapace.”

“Who?”

“The turtle one.” Tim frowned and turned back to Alya, “Hey, where’s Chloe?”

“She said she needed to catch up on her beauty rest tonight.” Alya walked up to the railing of the balcony and pointed the phone at the couple below, “It’s fine. She’s not missing much.”

Bruce took a step back and looked over the group. He didn’t realize how close the Françoise Dupont kids have gotten with his own. If he were to take a picture, nothing would seem out of place. The group looked so comfortable with each other. It was jarring, but not bad by any means.

Dick turned back to the group, “Alright. Enough spying. Let’s leave them be.”

“You’re just bored.”

“Yes, I am.” Dick began herding the group away from their vantage point and laughed, “It’s late. Let’s go.”

Bruce watched as the rest of the group groaned, but complied with the eldest. He hung back and walked next to Dick, “What have I missed?”

Dick chuckled, “You want to adopt five more kids?”

Jason shouted over his shoulder, “At least can we adopt Marinette?” The kids shook their heads and laughed and Bruce realized it was part of an inside joke.

Bruce looked surprised, “You’re all very close aren’t you?”

Nino turned back to Bruce and smiled, “Your kids are great company, my dude. Seriously.”

Adrien snorted, “You sound like a parent or something. ‘Oh, your kids are great!’” Adrien turned to Bruce and grinned, “He’s right though. This is the most fun any of us have had in who knows how long.”

Bruce frowned, “Really?”

Alya stretched and nodded, “Hardly any Akuma attacks, new friends, new theory, and I see my girl find romance? Best. Vacation. Ever.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “You’re theory doesn’t stand.”

“You’ve seen the evidence I gathered.”

“All substantial.”

“So is yours.”

Bruce watched in amusement at the two glared at each other, both determined to out investigate each other. It was rare Tim found someone to compete with, but he seemed to have fun. Alya reminded him of Tim when he first came into their lives; spunky, smart, stubborn, and fired up. “I’m Batman, huh?”

Alya nodded, “I’ll prove it. I know I can. Every bone in my body is telling me I’m right.”

Jason laughed, “You sure you aren’t constipated?”

Alya blushed and pushed Jason playfully, “No!”

The group laughed at the antics and Bruce turned to his oldest, “So what’s happening with those two? Any progress?”

“You mean Damian and Marinette? They’re inseparable.” Dick chuckled, “It’s actually kind of cute. They hang onto each other, but I don’t think they realize it. The way they bicker with each other is hilarious to watch, too. It’s like an old married couple.”

Alya laughed, “Plus, she’s the only one who can calm him down if he starts to get too annoyed.”

“It is getting harder for him to say no to her.” Adrien hummed in approval, “He gives Marinette a run for her money. He’ll randomly say things that just make her light up and embarrass her, it’s kind of great.”

Jason nodded, “Oh my god, what did he say yesterday?”

Nino thought for a moment, “Wasn’t it something like ‘I’m not leaving her’ or something?”

Tim laughed, “Oh yeah, the guide for the last city we visited wanted to separate them! He got so mad and wouldn’t leave her alone.”

Bruce couldn’t believe most of the stuff he was hearing, “This is Damian? My son Damian? Damian used to be al Ghul now Wayne, that Damian?” The group all nodded and Bruce scoffed, “She’s magic isn’t she?”

“If we’re right, she’s magic.” The group came to a split in the hallway and the group went their separate ways. The family waved goodnight to the classmates before walking through the halls towards their own rooms. Tim broke the silence, “So Bruce still can’t find anything on the videos.”

“Really? Did Barbara-“

“She looked through them, yes.” Bruce pinched his nose, “We can’t figure it out. How does a whole crew of raiders just disappear?”

Jason frowned, “All I know is if I find the bastard that threw Marinette overboard, I’m killing him.” Bruce sent a warning look to Jason and Jason didn’t even flinch, “What? I’m serious. He could’ve killed her.”

“So you think killing him is the answer?”

“It’s an answer, one I’m going to enjoy a lot.”

Bruce sighed and stopped walking, making the other three pause as well, “None of this is making sense. They disappeared, Akumas have popped up in a few of the cities we’ve visited, what is going on?”

“Have you tried letting Alya watch the video?” The group turned to Dick who only shrugged, “Out of everyone in Paris, we got the one person who knows all things Miraculous and Ladybug. If you think it might be an Akuma, she’ll be the one to confirm or deny your theory.”

Tim groaned, “Then she’ll actually know he’s Batman. The girl might’ve been naïve when it came to Lila, but she’s not dumb.”

“That reminds me, what happened with her? That Rossi girl?”

“Still a liar, but at least now Marinette has her friends on her side.”

Bruce did not miss the small scowl Dick sent Tim, “What happened?”

Tim flinched and Dick nudged him to talk, “I may have snapped at Alya and completely outted Lila to her.”

“That’s a bad thing?”

“It is when you yell at her and her friends to prove a point instead of just protecting your friends.” Dick sighed, “You still can’t figure out why you were so mad?”

Tim groaned, “No, I can’t. All of a sudden I got so pissed and then next thing I knew I was shoving my phone in her face. Everyone was yelling. And then the migraines-“

“Migraines?”

Jason nodded and frowned, “Migraines. I’m pretty sure everyone on the ship had them.”

“Everyone except Marinette, Adrien, Damian, and Lila.” Dick hummed, “I don’t get it.”

Jason snickered, “It’s the power of love. Damian is so head over heels for Marinette he wouldn’t notice if he was having a migraine anyways.” Jason sighed, “Adrien probably gets them all the time from the flashing cameras at his photoshoots. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just wasn’t bothered or didn’t even notice it.”

“And Lila?”

“She’s just a bitch.”

Bruce turned to scold him, “Jason!”

Tim and Dick shrugged, “True.”

Bruce was about to say something to his sons before noticing Dick’s shirt, “Where did you get that?”

Dick looked down and smiled, “Marinette made it for me.” He did a quick spin, “Red and black and Nightwing themed. It’s perfect.”

Bruce’s expression deadpanned, “You’re really walking around like that while a junior reporter is actively investigating our family?”

Dick shrugged, “She’s investigating you, not me.” The four stopped in front of Bruce’s room and Dick looked over Bruce one last time, “Get some sleep. Me and Tim can look over the video again tomorrow. You need to rest.”

Bruce’s shoulders fell, but nodded. He knew they were right. He went into his room, locking the door behind him, and headed for the shower first. All the while, the two teens at the center of attention continued to talk against their spot on the railings.

“So let me get this straight, Dick was part of a circus?”

“It makes sense why he acts like a clown now, doesn’t it?” Marinette snorted and lightly hit Damian’s arm. Damian chuckled, “Don’t act like I’m the only one with weird people in my life. You know two famous singers.”

“Jagged and Clara don’t count, they’re family now.”

“Mine are family too and I still make fun of them.”

Marinette smirked, “I noticed.” She sighed and looked over the water, “Where are we landing next?”

“Well, it seems we’ll be in Portugal soon. I suspect we’re visiting Lisbon next.”

She nodded, “You think there’s going to be another Akuma attack?”

“I hope not.” Damian sighed leaned against the rails, “Who do you want to investigate next?”

“I don’t know.” Marinette looked over at Damian and looked back at the past week. After the second Akuma in Pontevedra, they decided that Hawkmoth had to be on the ship. The only problem was he wasn’t talking to any of the Akumas. They couldn’t figure out what he was trying to pull, but Damian figured he couldn’t be losing all of these corrupted butterflies. It had to be coming from somewhere and considering it was only happening in the cities they visited, Hawkmoth had to be on the boat. “Have you noticed the mood recently?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone’s been on edge.”

“Makes sense, there are Akumas on the loose.”

“No, no, no. Like everyone is upset. I get being paranoid because of an Akuma, Paris is like that all the time, but this is different. It’s like everyone’s worst emotions are being amplified.” She sighed, “Alix and Kim went into a full-blown argument over something, Alya wants to kill Lila-”

“Still don’t know why you won’t let her have a go at Lila.”

Marinette frowned and nudged him before continuing, “Tim snapped at us, the staff gets frustrated easily. It wasn’t like this in the beginning.”

Damian sighed and thought it over, “Tension is rising and everyone is stuck on this boat. You can’t run from your problems here, you have to deal with them.”

A sudden breeze made Marinette shiver and she glared at the water, “Too cold!”

“You’re yelling at the sea.”

“I know.” She stuck her tongue out at the ocean and, as if to respond, another gust of wind nearly froze the poor girl.

Damian laughed, “You’re having an argument with water and loosing.” She glared at him, shaking from the cold, and he just rolled his eyes. “Come on. You want to go to the den?”

Marinette’s eyes lit up and she nodded before scurrying off inside the hall, away from the wind. Damian shook his head and followed her, close behind. Marinette looked over her shoulder and laughed, “Wanna race, baby bird?”

“Let’s do this Bug.” The two smirked and suddenly started running full speed up the stairs and through the halls. Damian looked over at the girl, he was impressed she could keep up with him, unbeknownst to him she was thinking the same thing. The two locked eyes and started laughing as they continued to sprint through the ship. He admitted to himself he felt odd. Doing things with this girl and her friends, talking together, doing things as mundane as racing for no reason, it made him feel some kind of way. Nothing bad, just unusual. He wondered if this was how a normal kid was supposed to feel like playing with their friends. He refused to say it out loud, but he considered them friends despite knowing them for such a short amount of time.

Then there was Marinette. The nicknames started as a joke due to the theories being thrown around. Marinette decided if he kept calling her Ladybug then she should call him something. Without much thought, he told her to refer to him as Robin - Batman’s sidekick. He hoped she didn’t think too much of it and, unlike him, she didn’t pry the way he did if she was suspicious about something. Now, they had themed nicknames they’d say to each other in private, away from everyone in their own little world when they spent time together.

Marinette and Damian skid around a corner, but Marinette lost her footing and slammed into the wall. Damian came to a stop and ran back over to her. He helped her up and looked her over, “I’m fine.”

“Let me just check.” The two stood there, panting from the run, while Damian quickly examined her. “No bruises.”

“I’m telling you I’m fine. I’ve had worse falls than that.”

“Chloe’s right, you’re a walking accident waiting to happen.” Marinette pouted and Damian just smirked at her, leaning in, “What?”

She sighed, putting a finger on his nose and pushing him back, “You suck.” She felt an odd sense of deja vu after doing the gesture but didn’t pay any attention to it when she saw how his nose scrunched up. She giggled, “At least you’re cute.”

“I’m cute?” Now he was the one pouting, “I am not cute.”

She poked his nose, causing his nose to scrunch up again, “Cute.”

He shook his head, “You’re becoming worse than my brothers.”

“Yet you still want to hang out with me.”

“Yeah, because out of everyone you’re the least annoying.” She snorted and pushed him playfully, causing him to chuckle. “Come on, we’re close to the den.” She nodded and absent-mindedly grabbed his arm. He’s gotten used to her gestures, noticing very quickly she’s someone who likes to touch and be touched. He noticed that with everyone, with Alya they would link arms, same with Adrien and Nino. With Chloe they would at most hold hands as one dragged the other around stores and Marinette would hug Chloe when Chloe did something particularly good-natured. With his brothers, she’d give lots of hugs but never grab onto them. If she didn’t feel comfortable holding someone’s arm or hand, she’d unconsciously stand very close to them.

He wondered if it was a way for her to keep them close, which to him made sense after the isolation she felt before the ship. Still, she didn’t do things like this with his brothers. She didn’t grab their arms or hold their hands or lean on them the way she did with him. He’d never admit it, but he liked being the only one she’d do this with.

She leaned on him and he smiled softly as they made their way to the den. Marinette loved the den. It was the one place on the ship where she could work out her feelings without issue. No one went up there except the captain and Damian. The captain turned into somewhat of a familial role, like a grandfather or an old uncle, and she trusted him. She worried for the man, she could tell his mood has also gotten worse, however, he wasn’t mad or frustrated. Captain Staller was just extremely sad and gloomy without the influence of the two teens. She wondered if he was depressed and if Anne’s anniversary was coming up, then this behavior would make sense.

Then there was Damian. Damian became someone very close within the first few days of knowing each other. She knew there was something odd about him, even Adrien told her about his thoughts on the four brothers and their abilities, but he was honest. He allowed her to vent to him and helped her sort through her feelings and she would do the same for him. She sympathized with him, saddened by his past and lack of childhood at the hands of his mother. Bruce’s influence was clear to see, but she wanted to see him. Not the child molded to be the future head of the family, not the boy trying to live up to the legacy of his brothers or father, she wanted to know more about Damian. She could tell he wasn’t used to sharing or letting his walls down, making her feel special when he would around her.

They had a routine; change for bed, meet at the den, and then talk by the railings. They both knew they were being spied on half the time but were thankful for none of them interrupting their time together. Still, there was a small sense of uncertainty surrounding the two. While both wondered what their relationship was, neither wanted to ask and break the new bottle they found themselves in. It was safe, they were content, and they were together.

Damian pulled away from her side and opened the door for her. She walked in and noted how dark the room was, it made the moonlight seem that much brighter. She stopped Damian from turning on the lights and led him over to the big chairs that the two sank into. She laid down and placed her head on his lap, something they both just allowed to happen a few nights after the raid when her anxiety spiked. She was comforted by the company and he felt soothed by the warmth and the act of petting down her hair. The intimacy was something both lacked and this time together felt like they were making up for it. She sighed, “I think we should investigate Charles next.”

“Why him? I thought he was your friend.”

“He looked really out of sorts the next day and this week he’s just seemed out of it and paranoid. He would get jumpy if I accidentally snuck up on him.”

Damian hummed, “You think he’s Hawkmoth?”

“No, I just think he might know something. No one acts like that unless they’re hiding something.”

“Or hiding from someone.”

Marinette turned her head to look up at him, “You think he’s hiding from someone?”

“He could be, or maybe he’s worried about being akumatized.”

Marinette turned onto her back, looking up at him, “I don’t know. I don’t know how any of these people act. I’m grasping at straws at this point.”

Damian sighed, “Well, all of your classmates and Ms. Bustier have all been akumatized, so it can’t really be any of them. Unless we have another French passenger, we’ll have to look into everyone else.”

After a moment Marinette’s eyes widened and she suddenly sat up, almost knocking her head into Damian’s. “Another French passenger, of course!” She turned to Damian with a newfound spark, “Is there any way to get a list of the passengers? We’ll need a list of every French passenger outside the class.”

Damian smirked and sent out a text, “I’ll tell Drake to get that to me by tomorrow.”

“Tim?”

Damian sent out the text and locked his phone, “Drake is the best investigator out of the four of us. It could take us a bit to look through all the passengers, but he’ll take seconds and do a background check as well.” Damian let out a tired sigh, “Grayson’s the beloved oldest, Todd’s the strongest, Drake’s the smartest, and I’m-”

“You’re wonderful.” Marinette grabbed his head and turned it so she could look him in the eye, “Don’t compare yourself to your brothers.”

He rolled his eyes, “I was going to say I’m still the best out of the four.”

She relaxed and sighed, still not letting go of his face, “You really do have a superiority complex.” She squeezed his cheeks, earning a playful glare.

“You going to let go?”

“No.” She squeezed his cheeks one last time before letting go, “Okay now I’m good.”

Damian snorted, “You remind me of my best friend Jon.”

Marinette sat up straight with peaked curiosity, “You just called someone friend. Best friend. Tell me more!” Marinette shook his shoulders, “Come on, tell me!”

Damian moved her hands away, “I won’t until you calm down.”

She stopped bouncing in her seat and frowned, “Can you really blame me?”

“No.” He scrolled through his phone before finding an old photo of them when he was 13 and Jon was 11. He handed it over to Marinette and she smiled.

She sat back down next to him, leaning on him, before saying, “You guys are so cute. So he’s a childhood friend?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for some time now.”

“Is he older than you?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, “Just because he’s taller doesn’t mean he’s older. Everyone thinks that.” He looked back at the photo and pointed, “I’m 13 there and he’s 11.”

She giggled, “You look like a baby.”

“I did not.”

“Babyface.”

“Marinette-”

“Cute baby face.”

He huffed and poked her side, making her squeak and jump away. He took the opportunity to grab his phone, “No.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he smirked.

“You’re too cocky.” She looked between him and the phone before lunging for it. “I want to see more photos!”

Damian leaned back and held his phone away, “Never.”

Marinette huffed and struggled against him, “Come on! Let me see more babyface photos!”

“No!” He sounded angry, but his face held a big smile as he watched the girl try to figure out a way to get the phone. “This is actually very entertaining.”

“Shut up.” She blew the bangs out of her face and sat back down. “Come on! You’ve never mentioned your friends before.”

“I’ve mentioned my team.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never once said ‘friend’. This is exciting!”

“Me and you have very different definitions of exciting.” She frowned before lunging at the phone again and managed to knock Damian over, “Marinette!”

“Let me see more Jon photos, then I’ll get off.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at her before flipping them over. Marinette let out a small “oof” before looking up at a very smug Damian. “You were saying?”

She huffed, “Killjoy.”

Damian raised an eyebrow at her, “Really? Maybe I should get Lila in here. I was just assaulted.”

She glared at him before pushing him off, “Don’t even joke about that.”

Her serious tone made him frown, “Too soon?”

“It’s always too soon with her.” She frowned and rubbed her temples, “Should I just let Tim do it? Should he just out her to everyone in my class?”

“I would love that because I want to see her face when he does it, but considering there’s a chance Hawkmoth may be on the ship I wouldn’t want to have her become an Akuma.” Damian shoulders fell, “I really don’t want you being the target of that.”

She sent him a small smile, “I can handle her.”

“As Ladybug, maybe. As Marinette, no. I’m not risking that.”

“Be careful, you sound worried.”

“I am worried.” Marinette turned to him and found that he was staring at her, “I don’t want you getting hurt. Especially not while we’re on this trip.”

“And after it’s over?” He didn’t answer and she sighed, “Damian-”

“I know.” He turned to her and he looked her over, trying to figure out their next steps. “First let’s figure out what’s happening on the ship.”

Her shoulders fell and nodded, “Yeah.” She scooted closer to him and leaned on him, “Damian?”

“Yeah?”

She bit her lip before finally asking, “Are you actually Robin?”

He thought for a moment before finally closing his eyes and breathing out a soft, “Yeah.”

She hummed, “Makes sense.” She turned to face him, “You’re right. I know you know, but I thought I should say it.”

Damian snorted, “Thanks. Good to know.” He took a deep breath before shaking his head, “No. Actually, that’s not good. Nothing about your situation is ‘good’.” Marinette nodded and nuzzled into his neck, “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Find Hawkmoth, keep the city safe, fix everything.”

“It shouldn’t be your job to clean up the mess he makes.”

“What about you?” She frowned, “You don’t even have powers. You’re just human.”

“You’re human.”

“With magical powers, not the same.” She linked her arm with his and gave his bicep a comforting squeeze, “You shouldn’t be out there.”

“It’s not the same. I choose to go and fight, you were randomly given magic earrings and had to fight.”

She paused for a moment before admitting, “I almost wasn’t Ladybug.” Damian turned his head slightly in her direction and she took it as a sign to continue. “Stone Heart was the first Akuma we ever faced. He caused a lot of mayhem and I thought it was my fault for not stopping him the first time.” She let out a small bittersweet laugh, “I put the earrings in Alya’s bag.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Alya got hurt and Cat Noir was in trouble. I couldn’t stand there and do nothing. I had to help.” She sighed, “In a way, I chose it too.”

“That’s not fair. You have a good heart, of course you were going to save them, but to just put that responsibility on a kid?”

“What about you?”

Damian smiled bitterly as he thought back to when his mother dropped him off with a father who didn’t know he existed, “When my mother left me I was full of rage over those who killed my grandfather. I wanted revenge and nothing was going to stop me. Batman took me in after Nightwing stopped me from almost killing a man who had a connection to the murderer. I told him I wanted to help like Nightwing used to, as the new Robin, and he agreed.”

Marinette listened before pulling away, “You almost killed someone?”

Damian realized his slip and tensed before turning away from her, “Like I said, there’s a lot of stuff about me you won’t want to know.” He looked down at his lap and scowled, “I’m not a good person. I did a lot of bad things, even as Robin I’ve done really bad things.”

He didn’t want to look up, he figured she would run away like a sane person. He figured she wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore. “I didn’t know you before, but I can tell you’re a good person. Even if you did some bad things in the past, what matters is that you learn from them and be a better person now.” He wasn’t expecting that. She put her hand on his cheek and turned his head to her, “I think you’re a good person, Damian.” Damian didn’t respond outwardly until Marinette wrapped her arms around him. Her hug snapped him out of the initial shock and he wrapped his arms around her. This was only the second time they’ve hugged, the first time being when she first had a panic attack below deck, and he was grateful for it. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, “What’s going to happen now?”

Damian gave her a small squeeze, “I don’t know.”

He felt her hot breath against his skin as she let out a soft laugh, “I don’t know either.” She moved herself to be sitting in his lap, not releasing the hug. “I’m scared. What if the reason Hawkmoth is on this ship is that he knows Ladybug is on it? What if figured me out?”

“We don’t know that. We don’t know he’s on this ship.”

She rubbed her cheek against the fabric of his shirt, “Damian, these Akumas are coming from somewhere. They don’t wander this far out.”

“Are you sure? Has it ever happened before?”

“It has. The first time we brought Pegasus into the mix was because an Akuma made its way onto the train we were on. We were definitely outside of Hawkmoth’s range by that point.”

“Okay, so the option that he’s letting them wander isn’t impossible.” He knew it was farfetched, but he didn’t want her to think her identity was compromised. He didn’t want to think about a terrorist following her around and attacking her for some earrings, magic or otherwise. He could tell she was getting stuck inside her own head, upsetting thoughts taking over, and pulled out his phone. “You want to see more pictures of me and Jon.”

She quickly turned and looked at the phone, “Seriously?”

He chuckled, “Yeah.” She turned, back resting against his chest as he leaned back and they looked through the photos together. He pointed out different places they’d been, different pranks they’ve pulled on each other, their different pets, all the while making fun of his best friend. “He has this southern drawl sometimes and it’s so annoying.”

“He sounds fun.”

“He can be, but I’ll never tell him that. It’ll go to his head.”

She held his phone and made a confused face, “I’ll never get these fancy new phones.”

“You sound like a grandma.”

“Makes sense if everyone keeps calling us an old married couple.” She laughed, “You sound like an old angry grandpa.”

“I do not.”

“You are totally the type to yell at kids to get off your lawn.”

“I’ll take away the phone.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” She tapped on the screen and grumbled, “What the heck?”

Damian reached for the phone, “Hey, I can just-” All of a sudden the phone screen lit up, indicating a call had been placed and before either could do anything, a boy with messy hair and a tired look answered.

The boy yawned and rubbed his eyes, “Damian it’s like 6:30 am and its summer. There better be a goo-” The boy stopped talking and his eyes locked onto Marinette, who was still sitting on top of Damian, and he narrowed his eyes. “Damian, who’s this?”

Marinette awkwardly waved and Damian snatched the phone away, “Kent, if you tell anyone I’ll-”

“Oh my god.” Jon’s smile grew, “It’s late, it’s dark, and you’re with a girl! DAMIAN YOU ACTUALLY FOUND A GIRLFRIEND?”

Damian groaned and glared at the boy in the phone, “Say it louder why don’t you! You’ll wake up the entire city!” Damian was silently praying to whatever god he didn’t wake anyone. Jon decided to stay with the Titans while Damian was on the ship and Damian was grateful, but now he just wanted to wring the boy’s neck. “Now please don’t-”

Jon was already up and running through the tower, “Hold on! I’m hooking you up to the big screen!”

Damian sat up, nearly throwing Marinette off by accident, “You wouldn’t dare.” Suddenly the point of view changed from him looking at a phone to him looking up while a large living room came into view. Jon ran away, undoubtedly waking the others, “I’m hanging up.”

“Wait no! I wanna meet your friends!” Damian gave Marinette a pained look before giving in.

“Fine, but get up for a second so I can turn on the lights.” She quickly moved off and noticed a few people coming into view, “Oh! Hi!” The lights turned on, making her flinch as her eyes adjusted, and she smiled sheepishly at the other kids. “Damian’s told me about you guys. I wanted to meet his friends.”

She realized these kids weren’t normal, but then again neither was her. She figured they were probably other heroes and realized she was meeting his ‘team’. Damian sat back down on the couch and without thinking she took her place back on his lap to make sure they were both in the shot. Everyone looked stunned before the green one finally spoke up, “No way. Deep fake.”

Marinette tilted her head, confused, before turning to Damian, “Deep fake?”

“He doesn’t think you’re real.” He gently took the phone out of her hands, “Hey, Beast Boy, please tell me you haven’t made too much of a mess.”

“He said please, completely fake.”

Soon a woman with fire red hair entered the room, “What’s going on?” She looked up at the screen, “Oh! Damian?”

“That’s Kory, by the way.”

Marinette’s eyes lit up and she turned her attention to Kory, “Dick’s told me so much about you! You’re even prettier than I imagined!”

Kory looked confused but flattered. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Jon smirked, “This is Damian’s girlfriend.”

The room stood still for a few seconds before everyone went up in arms. Damian groaned and pinched his nose before shouting, “Enough!” The team stopped and Damian gestured to the girl, “This is Marinette.”

Jaime narrowed his eyes at her, “I don’t trust this. Why the hell is she with you?”

Marinette made a face, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Raven shook her head, “She’s real, but I have to admit I was not expecting this.”

“No way! What the hell? You leave for like two weeks and when you finally decide to call you have a cute girl with you!” Garfield narrowed his eyes, “Why are you both in your pajamas?”

“Because it’s 12:30 am around here.”

Jon wiggled his eyebrows, “Why are you alone with a girl late at night? In a dark room no less.”

Marinette lit up bright red while Damian groaned, “I didn’t mean to call, idiot. I was showing her some old photos-”

“You keep photos of me? Aw, Damian, I knew you cared!”

Damian growled and felt his blood pressure spike, “Jon I swear-”

Marinette grabbed the phone back, “Hey what are your names? I know you’re Kory and you’re Jon, but what about the rest of you?”

“Jaime.”

“Raven.”

“Garfield.”

“Victor.” The team turned and Marinette watched a half robot half-human came into view, “I was wondering what the commotion was about.” Marinette didn’t react, but her eyes were trained on Victor. He rubbed the back of his neck, “If it’s too jarring-”

“You’re incredible! How does that even work? How do you function? Can you still eat? What do you do in the rain? Can you even be in the rain?” Marinette’s eyes lit up as she quickly rambled on more and more questions. Victor felt a wave of relief and chuckled when Damian grabbed the phone away from her. “Hey!”

“Sorry, she gets excited easily.”

Marinette pouted, “Come on, he’s half robot! How am I not supposed to be excited for that?!”

Jamie laughed, “She’s not what I expected you’d go for, but it works.”

“I know right!” Jon turned his attention back to Damian, “I’m assuming she knows-”

“She knows.”

“You actually told someone!” Garfield pinched himself, “Nope not a dream. Just really, really weird morning.”

Damian sighed and Marinette snorted, “Your friends are funny.”

Damian looked over at her and smiled, tired but happy to see her so excited. “Oh my god, he feels.”

“Why does everyone say that!?” Damian glared at Jon, “When I get back I’m going to-”

“So you are coming back! Marvelous!” Kory flew up to the camera and smiled, “We were worried there for a bit. You never contacted any of us after you left. We were starting to wonder if you left us.”

Damian’s lips pressed into a fine line, but before he could answer Marinette asked, “Is he a good hero?” Everyone looked surprised by the question and she shrugged, “I don’t know a lot about America’s heroes and if I asked him, he’d just inflate his own ego.”

“I would not!”

Her face deadpanned, “Yes you would.”

“I am the best Robin there is.”

“You literally just said your brothers-”

“I refuse to let that comment leave this room.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re impossible.”

“You’re too excitable.”

“Rather be excitable than grumpy all the time.”

“I am not grumpy!”

“A-hem!” The two turned their attention back to the phone and noticed everyone watching them with an expression that was a mix of amusement and disbelief. Jon chuckled, “I’ve never seen anyone else argue with him. I’m the only one who can usually get away with doing that.”

Damian frowned, “Only because I can’t wring your neck when you get too annoying.”

“What’s stopping you from wringing her’s?” When Damian didn’t answer him, Jon’s smug smile only grew. “I’m telling my mom.”

“You are not telling Lois! It’s bad enough all of you met her!”

“Lois? Didn’t Tim mention her once?”

Damian nodded, “Yeah, but I’m surprised you remember that. You were knocked out in the arcade machine.”

“Not my fault none of you know how to whisper.”

Jon chuckled and turned to the team, “I can’t believe this. He actually found a girlfriend.”

Kory clapped her hands together, “We should celebrate when he gets back!”

“No! No celebration! She’s never going to the tower!”

“Why not?”

Damian turned to Marinette, “Because you’ll be back in Paris and I’ll be in Jump City.”

Marinette blinked and sighed, “Oh yeah, right.”

“Great now you upset her!” Jamie stepped up, “Hey, sweetheart, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on-”

“Don’t even think about it, Reyes.”

Raven sighed, “You’re all idiots.” Everyone turned to the girl who rolled her eyes, “Yes, this is exciting. Still, what if someone notices a normal girl coming into the tower and hanging out with us? With Robin? You all realize she’d be a target in a heartbeat.” The room fell silent and Marinette turned to Damian, only to notice his expression hardened. “Either we go to her as discreetly as possible or it’s not going to happen at all.” Raven turned her attention to the couple on screen, “If I were you Marinette I wouldn’t get too attached. You guys make a good match, but you just knowing our real names is going to get you into serious trouble if we aren’t careful. You don’t want to be sucked into this.”

Garfield frowned, “Raven, harsh.” He turned his attention to the screen and noticed the two thinking about what she said.

Jon tried to sound reassuring, “Hey! We can figure it out! I mean, I can tell you’ve been good for Damian.” That brought Marinette’s attention back to the boy and he smiled, “Yeah. When he left he was like a walking shell. Just talking to him now, I can tell he’s back to his old self and looks like he’s thriving over there. I can only guess it’s because of you.” Damian turned his attention back to his best friend and Jon sighed, “Look, Raven’s right. It could be dangerous, but it’s not unheard of! I mean, look at my parents! One’s a civilian!” He smiled encouragingly at the couple, “Damian, she’s good for you. I can tell. Marinette?”

She blinked and forced herself to respond, “Yes?”

“Do you want to stay with our little hot head over there? I know he’s a handful, but he’s worth it!”

Before Damian could say anything Marinette let out a firm, “Yes.”

Jon smiled, “Then I think you’ll be okay. If anything comes up, we’ll figure it out. We’re friends now too.” The group nodded and he waved, “You guys will be fine. Anyway, it’s getting late for you guys over there. Sleep. Think about it. Damian, check-in more often. We worry.” Damian gave a small nod, still reeling over the girl’s answer, and Jon nodded back. “Goodnight you guys.” The screen went black after Jon hung up and the two sat there in silence for a bit.

Damian spoke up first, “You meant that?”

Marinette gulped and nodded, “Yes.”

Damian thought for a moment and forced himself to ask, “Marinette, what are we?”

Marinette turned to face him, opening and closing her mouth, and answer struggling to come out before the door burst open. The two jumped and Marinette quickly left Damian’s lap as the two turned to the door. The captain stumbled in, seemingly unaware of the two teens inside the room. He stumbled to the bar and nearly fell over. The two teens shared a look of concern before walking up to him, “Captain Staller?” The captain didn’t respond and she turned him slowly to face her. She noted his glassy eyes and calm expression, “He sleepwalks?”

“I guess so.” Damian started to lead Captain Staller away from the bar and gently laid him down on the couch. The captain seemed to relax and fell right back to sleep on the cushions. Damian relaxed knowing that the captain was safe and asleep, “I think he’ll be okay now.” He turned back to Marinette who was staring at one of the bottles on the shelves, hugging herself and biting her lip. “Marinette?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to him, “What are we going to do?”

Damian’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m a liability. You’re a liability. We’re liabilities to each other.” She shook her head, “I can’t go to Jump City because I could be used as leverage. You can’t come to Paris because you know who I am and if Hawkmoth akumatizes you we’ll have to fight.” Her nose turned pink and her eyes watered, “I didn’t even think about that, Damian. I have to think about these things. What was I thinking?” She ran her finger through her hair and started pacing, “I can’t believe I told you. I can’t believe I said that. I can’t believe I thought-”

“Thought what?”

She stopped and turned to him, “Damian, how would this work?”

Damian knew she knew he was worried about the same thing. He also knew she knew he didn’t want whatever this was to stop. “We don’t see each other as heroes. Just civilians.”

“That won’t matter if you get akumatized!” She sniffed and let out a shaky breath, “And you’re Damian Wayne! That alone is going to bring attention to me! Damian, I can’t let that happen! My advantage is that I’m a nobody! I can sneak away and no one suspects a thing! I can’t do that if there are cameramen waiting outside the bakery every day, waiting to get a picture of Damian Wayne’s girlfriend!”

Damian gulped, he agreed with her. He really wished he didn’t. So instead of arguing with some solid logic, he decided to do the next best thing. “My girlfriend, huh?”

She tensed up and shook her head, “I’m sorry, it slipped out and-”

“I thought we were already married.” She froze for a second, watching as he awkwardly stood there waiting for a reaction. She laughed, it started out small and full of disbelief and grew into a heartfelt laugh. Damian relaxed as she wiped her eyes, still laughing at his joke. “Marinette-”

“How is this going to work?” She sniffed and let out a small laugh, tears streaming down her face despite the smile on her face, “How will any of this work?”

Damian shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair, chuckling. “I don’t know.” He leaned against a table and felt himself be bombarded by the same emotions overwhelming Marinette. He sniffed and laughed, “I have no idea!” He wiped his nose on his sleeve and laughed more, “What is happening?”

“I don’t know!” She wiped her cheeks in vain and her body shook with another fit of laughter, “I don’t know!” She turned to Damian and ran to hug him, he immediately reciprocated this time and squeezed her. He picked her up and spun her around, making her laugh even more, before putting her down in the middle of the room. She sniffed, looking up at Damian, “Are we going crazy?”

“I have no idea.” Damian snorted, “I have no clue. This is out of my range of knowledge. None of this makes sense to me. You don’t make any sense to me!” He let out a shaky breath, “Every time I’m with you I feel out of character. I don’t know what I’m saying or doing half the time. It’s all impulse with you.” He sniffed and chuckled, “What the hell is wrong with us?”

Marinette thought for a moment, letting out a shaky breath of her own, “We’re teenagers, I don’t think we’re supposed to have all the answers.” She giggled, “Which is ironic because Ladybug is supposed to have all the answers.”

“And I’m supposed to know what to do in any situation. My training equipped me with the knowledge on how to deal with enemies of all kinds, superhuman or otherwise.” He laughed. “My training didn’t prepare me for you. I am an expert in martial arts, I can wield almost any kind of weapon, I’m a capable businessman, I have advanced engineering skills, I’m trained in forensics, acrobatics, criminology, disguise and escapology,” he paused and scoffed, “none of it prepared me for you.”

Marinette and Damian stood together, in the middle of the den, panting as they struggled to catch their breath from laughing, and just stared at each other. Marinette bit her lip, “I don’t know a lot about you.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Will I ever know more about you?”

“Yes.”

Marinette sniffed and smiled at him before pulling him down. The kiss was awkward, neither really had any experience in any of this, but neither pulled away either. Despite the lack of skill, the two felt alive again. Every little cell felt electrified, any negative feels clouding their minds didn’t matter, and the world around them faded away the longer they stayed together.

“Well, I was wondering when you two would figure it out.” The two pulled away and looked at the couch to find Captain Staller stretching on the couch. He chuckled and scratched his beard, “Now, will either of you tell me why I’m here?”

Marinette hid her blushing face in her hands and Damian sighed before pulling away to help the man up, “You were sleep walking. You came in here and almost knocked over the alcohol at the bar.”

Staller looked confused, “I don’t sleepwalk.”

Damian shrugged, “Are you stressed?”

The captain thought for a moment before sighing, “My mood has taken a turn for the worse.”

Marinette turned to face the captain, worried expression on her face, “Anything we can do to help? We’re good listeners.”

Captain Staller smiled and shook his head, “No, you just continue to be yourself. I enjoy our visits. Although, I do think you would’ve fared better had I not interrupted tonight.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and her face flushed. Damian just rubbed the back of his neck before leading the captain outside. “Hey, you sure there isn’t anything my family could do?”

“Damian, you’re family has been nothing but good to me. If I ask for anything else, I’d be getting selfish.” The captain placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “You two were meant to cross paths, I can tell.” His voice got low as he held steady eye contact with the boy, “Don’t mess this up.”

Damian gulped and nodded, “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good answer.” He patted Damian on the back and nodded at the couple in approval. “I’ll see you two soon. Goodnight.” The captain walked away and Damian closed the door, leaving the only two people in the room embarrassed.

Damian watched as Marinette grabbed a pillow and screamed into it before letting herself fall onto the couch. He walked over, confused, and she took the pillow off her face. She looked like she drank three cups of Tim’s expresso, vibrating with energy. “This is happening.”

“Yes.”

“We just kissed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We know each other’s identities.”

“Marinette-”

“I’m dating Damian Wayne.” She sat up and threw the pillow at him, “Oh my god, I’m dating you. We’re dating. This is happening!” Damian caught the pillow easily and laughed at her, earning a short raspberry and a glare.

He sat down next to her, “Yes. Yes, it is.” He sighed and shook his head, “What the hell am I thinking?”

“You? What am I thinking? Tikki is going to be so mad-”

“Tikki?”

She bit her lip before sighing, “Tikki come out.” All of a sudden, a red blob flew around the room before stopping in front of his face. He blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating for a second as the being examined him. “Tikki, meet Damian. Damian, meet Tikki.”

“Hello?”

Tikki smiled softly at the boy before turning to Marinette, “This is against a lot of rules Marinette.”

She groaned, “I know.” She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, “I trust him though.”

Tikki nodded before falling to rest on top of Marinette’s head. Damian just chuckled, “Honestly, not the weirdest thing I’ve ever come across.”

Marinette snorted, “That’s a new reaction.”

“I’m serious.” Damian smiled at Tikki, “When you live in Gotham and work under Batman you see a lot of stuff.”

Tikki flew around Damian’s head a few times before landing on his hair and nodding, “I approve of this one.”

Damian smiled, “That’s good right?”

Marinette closed her eyes and giggled, “Yes, yes it is.” She rubbed her eyes, “I’ve only known you for a little over a week and look at us.” She shook her head, “We’re crazy.”

“I mean we’re talking while a small red fairy thing watches over us. I’m pretty sure if we went to any hospital they’d say the same.”

Tikki giggled, “I like him.”

“I’m assuming you’re the reason Marinette orders so many sweets?”

“Smart too.” Tikki grinned at her chosen, “He’s a keeper.”

Marinette nodded, “I mean I’ll have to figure out a way erase your memory if I don’t.”

Damian raised an eyebrow at her, “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” She nudged him and the two sighed, “Marinette?”

“Yeah?”

“How are we going to tell my brothers?”

Marinette’s eyes widened, “How are we going to tell Alya?” The two looked at each other, realizing the chaos they were about to unleash on this ship when they go public. Marinette groaned, “We’re going not going to live any of this down will we?”

“No, I don’t think so. Dick is a crazy romantic, Jason will tell everyone else in the family if Jon already hadn’t, and Tim will work with Alya to spread the news all over the internet.” He groaned and leaned back in the couch, let his head lull back, “Can we not tell them?”

“And risk death by reporter? No thank you. If Alya doesn’t kill me for hiding it, Chloe definitely will.” She giggled before leaning on him, head on his shoulder and arm draped around his torso. “But we don’t have to tell them right now.”

He wrapped his arm around her and relaxed, “No, I guess not.” He looked down at the girl who finally relaxed enough that she actually looked tired, “Hey you want to go to bed?”

“No.”

“Still a bad liar.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to sleep, I said I don’t want to go to bed.” She looked up at him, “I don’t want to leave.”

Damian groaned, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Puppy dog eyes. You��re the only person to successfully use that against me.” He groaned and hung his head before he looked around the room. “Hold on.” He got up, turned off the lights, grabbed a blanket from one of the cupboards from a counter and draped it over her. He sat back down, arms open for her to lay next to him if she chose, and he glared. “Damn you.” She snorted and snuggled up next to him, his arms wrapped around her torso and her head on his chest. He could feel himself relax with her weight and body heat against him. She threw the covers over him before yawning.

Tikki watched as the two teens fell asleep together on the couch. She giggled softly before nestling on a pillow nearby, out of view from anyone walking in the door. She looked at the couple one last time before closing her eyes and smiling. Marinette was healing, as far as she could tell so was Damian, and she couldn’t be happier.

*******************************************************************************************

I’m waiting for the screams of the maribat community because it happened. It’s happening. And from here on out? Brace yourselves.

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heyitsani · 4 years

Text

Secrets That You Keep

Word Count: 7517

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Jason swears and there’s mentions of past emotional trauma/abuse. There’s also mention of injury but not overly descriptive.

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

Summary: Dick begins noticing that Jason seems to have a strong relationship with each member of the Bat Clan. Except with him. It takes a near death experience for him to finally find out why that is.

Notes: This was my submission for the JayDick Summer Exchange for @captaindeadships and I’m so excited that I can finally share it here! This deals heavily with Dick’s inner thoughts and he’s a pretty unreliable narrator. Both boys are emotionally stunted and it dives head first into Dick’s death and his mission with Spyral.

You can also read this on AO3 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick didn’t notice it happening at first.

He knew that Jason and Tim had mended their issues and gotten close when Dick had been “dead” and doing his Spyral mission. He had seen the pair partner up on missions before, so Dick had brushed it off as simply finding common ground finally. He didn’t suspect anything when he called Tim and heard Jason’s voice in the background.

It became a regular occurrence whenever he called Tim and Dick had just come to accept it as the new normal. Hearing Jason’s voice rumbling in the background, snarky and rude as ever, was as close to normal as Dick really felt these days.

There had been a few moments before the Crime Syndicate had started the downward spiral of Dick’s life that he had been sure he and Jason could have had some kind of relationship. Looking back, he could see the friendship forming. Perhaps even something more, but Dick didn’t want to think about the possibility of what could have been. But the memories of meals shared on rooftops and wounds cared for by the other, he tried not to think about it. He had accepted that it wasn’t his to have anymore.

At least in the light of day, he had accepted it.

It was a different story when it was still dark out and Dick was lying in bed with nothing but his mind to occupy himself. When thoughts of Jason as he was now blended with memories of Jason from before he died. When Dick’s own emotions swirled and confused him enough that he wondered if what he felt for the younger man was something more than what it should be.

More than what Jason would ever allow them to be. Now.

Dick also didn’t suspect anything when he found Jason with Damian, sparring in the Cave one afternoon. Damian had confided in him how he remembered Jason’s presence among The League’s ranks. How Talia had brought Damian around plenty of times when she had overseen Jason’s training. Jason was also the only other Bat who spoke Arabic fluently (Dick not far behind but not quite at their level), so having the elder there was a taste of home. A comfort that not even Dick could provide the youngest Wayne.

And it was a home Dick knew Damian missed, if not for the people that came with it.

But despite those moments with Tim and Damian, Dick didn’t think twice about Jason spending time with them. He didn’t even linger on the moments for any reason other than to lament how much he wished he could bridge that gap between him and Jason. It wasn’t enough to raise suspicions though.

No, Dick didn’t suspect anything was going on until he found Jason with Cass.

He had arrived at the manor early in hopes of getting some time in on the rings before Cass came over from Barbara’s for their weekly dance workout. Other members of the family had enjoyed watching Cass dance, but Dick was really the only member who moved well enough to join her. So, they had arranged weekly times to get together and dance. And in order to get to the room where his acrobat equipment was kept, he had to pass the room where Bruce had created the perfect room for Cass to dance in.

And that was where he found Cass and Jason moving around to an old-school hip-hop song. But it wasn’t like when she and Dick danced. With him it was performative. This? This looked like fun. Jason was smiling. And an ache began to form in Dick’s chest at the sight of it.

Dick just remained frozen at the sight of the two of them, probably looking as shocked as he felt. At least until Jason noticed him in the doorway and froze up, drawing Cass’ attention. And while his sister brightened at the sight of him, Jason seemed to withdraw.

Damnit all to hell, that stung something fierce.

So yeah, he took notice of something going on then. And that night he found himself in his Bludhaven apartment with Red Robin and Spoiler covering his city while he made a list of all the times he’s seen Jason spend with the others and all the time he’s spent with Dick.

Zero.

Leaning back into his sofa, Dick let his eyes stare off at nothing as it sunk in. He could recall countless times he had seen Jason spend time with Tim, Damian, Cass, Duke, and hell even Steph. But he couldn’t recall a single moment where Jason had spent time with him. In or out of the suit. Not since he had returned from Spyral. And worse than that, he could recall multiple times where Dick entered a room and Jason immediately left. There was always some kind of excuse so Dick had never investigated it, but now he could see it for what it was. Avoidance. Jason was purposefully distancing himself from Dick and goddamn that really did hurt.

Dick knew he hadn’t been a good brother. He knew he could have been so much better for Jason, but he had been so hurt and so angry at the younger’s presence and the fact that he was Robin without even knowing what the name and the colors meant to Dick.

But Jason had told Dick he had been better than Jason had given him credit for, right? When he had joined Bizzaro, Artemis, and Jason on that Outlaw mission, he thought he and Jason had patched some of their old hurts. But maybe it had just been him who had done that.

Throwing his head back onto the couch, Dick stared at the ceiling and tried to think of anything he could have done in order to have Jason not want to be near him and though the faking his death thing had pissed the younger off, it didn’t seem like it would have been enough to get to this point. Plus, it had been years at this point. And nothing else stood out to him. He couldn’t think of a single, goddamn moment where he might have pushed Jason away to the point where he wanted nothing to do with Dick. And that was frustrating.

So, Dick gripped his hair and closed his eyes while keeping his head thrown back.

And that was the exact position Tim and Steph found him in an hour later as they slipped in through one of his windows to report how the patrol had gone.

“Dude, seriously? I thought you were working a case?” Tim teased him, laughing as Dick jolted forward and shoved all the papers on his coffee table into a folder and closed it so neither of them would see what it was he had been doing.

“I was. I mean, I am. I was thinking.” He stumbled over his words as he tried to compose himself from the shock of having not heard them coming. “How was it out there?” He watched Tim and Steph exchange a glance before Steph headed for his kitchen to undoubtedly help herself to something to eat.

“It was fine. Quiet except for that drop you knew was happening. It was an easy takedown.” Nodding his head, Dick pushed to his feet. “Dude, you okay?”

Swallowing, Dick clenched his jaw for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, just still stuck in that case. You two staying here tonight? There’s not much open, but I can order some food for you guys?” Tim’s eyes narrowed and Dick could tell he wanted to push the subject, but thankfully Steph stepped into the room.

“Yes, food. For the love of god, I’m starving,” she complained, dropping down into the spot Dick had just vacated. Nodding his head, Dick grabbed the file from the table and headed to his bedroom to tuck it away just in case Tim got curious. He would have to shred the papers later just to be sure no one else came across them. Slipping the file into the drawer where he kept his jeans, he closed the drawer and took a moment to lean his hands onto the edge of the dressed, head hanging as the weight of his discovery hit him again.

He allowed himself a moment before straightening up and putting on the mask of Dick Grayson, doting brother and friend. It was just another part to play, one he had playing for decades. And he had been saying it almost all his life:

The show must go on.

Life took pity on him after that night and Dick found himself too busy to really think about the situation with Jason. Busy with a new drug landing on the streets of his city and diverting all his resources into finding the chemist responsible for the seven overdoses in three nights.

“Have you looked at the composition at all?” Tim called out to Dick from his place at the lab table where he had been looking at the samples of the drug he had managed to get the night before. Dick looked away from the map of Bludhaven he and Damian had been marking off the deaths on and shook his head.

“No, I don’t have the right gear. That’s why I brought it here. Why?” He moved over toward Tim and waited to see if he’d put it up on the computer screen the magnifying glass was linked to. The screen flickered before coming to life and showing the very base structure of the drug that had been dubbed “Dreamer” for the vivid dreams it gave the user. “Is that…?”

“Fear toxin? It looks like it, doesn’t it?” Dick kept his eyes on the screen as Tim stood and grabbed a different slide that had been stored and slipped it in next to the Dreamer sample. “They have the same base.”

“But the base of Crane’s drug is Blue Flower,” Damian spoke up, drawing Dick’s gaze for a moment before he looked back to the screen.

“Could this be Crane?” Dick questioned, looking to Tim.

“I don’t think so. Crane didn’t design his toxin. He just replicates it.” Dick found his eyes moving back to the screen again as he crossed his arms over his chest and tried to think about what this possibly could mean. “This,” Tim pointed to the screen, “is Blue Flower. But the rest of it is something else. The analysis won’t be done for a few hours, but it should be able to tell us more. Maybe point you in the right direction.”

Dick opened his mouth to agree and thank Tim for his help, but he snapped his mouth shut at the familiar sound of Jason’s motorcycle coming into the cave. And all at once, Dick was reminded of what he had discovered the other night and the familiar pain in his chest flared up yet again.

“Oh good, I thought he was going to be late,” Dick looked over to find Duke headed down the stairs and beelining for Jason. And though Dick wanted to question it and find out yet another link that he could add to his list, he forced himself to turn back to the screen and analyze the drug. Tim didn’t say anything as he moved away, footsteps sounding toward where Jason and Duke were now talking about tickets of some sort and Dick just wanted to drown it out.

“Todd is taking him to a Knights game. Apparently, Thomas has never been,” Damian supplied as he moved to take the spot abandoned by Tim. Dick just hummed in response and didn’t bother saying anything in response, looking down at the younger man. And though he tried his best to keep his Dick Grayson mask on, he must have failed for a moment because Damian was suddenly looking at him with narrowed eyes. “You are upset.”

Shaking his head, Dick looked away. “I’m frustrated,” he admitted, knowing it could be about a multitude of things and not necessarily about Jason forming solid relationships with every family member but him.

“No.” Sapphire eyes turned back to green and Dick waited. “You think we don’t notice, but we can tell when you are wearing your mask without wearing one.”

“Why would I be wearing a mask, Little D? That’s just ridiculous.” He forced out an easy sounding laugh as he ruffled his brother’s hair before turning to move back over to the map. Unfortunately, that brought attention to the fact that he was there and when he glanced over, he found Jason staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. But Dick couldn’t focus on that at the moment. He couldn’t waste his energy wondering why he was the pariah of the family in regard to Jason. Not when he had a case to solve.

But he did waste his energy on it because it was all he could think about.

Even long after he left the cave that night and returned home to his apartment in the ‘Haven. While he was flying through the sky, dressed in black and blue, and trying to get a handle on the Dreamer situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck, ‘Wing,” the modified voice hit him like a ton of bricks. When he had sent off the distress beacon, Red Hood was the very last person Dick had expected to answer.

“Hood,” he gasped, breaths coming out in quick, broken pants as he pressed a hand to his side. It had started firm, but he was fairly sure his efforts were for ‘naught at the moment. “You’re…I didn’t…” His mind was foggy and no matter what he tried, he couldn’t break through it enough to get a coherent thought out.

Jason dropped to his knees next to Dick as he sat propped against the wall of a random warehouse he had stumbled into after fleeing from the scene that had gotten him shot. “You’re fucking lucky I was already in the area, you dick,” Jason muttered, batting Dick’s hand away from his side and taking a look at the damage. “Shit, do you have a doctor you trust here? N? Nightwing!” Dick wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes, but the feeling on Jason’s gloved hand smacking his cheek forced him to open them up again. “Doctor?” Dick blinked slowly, trying to make the question make sense. Then it clicked.

“Leslie.”

“Fuck,” Jason cursed, tapping something on the side of his helmet. “RR, I need an assist. N is bad and he doesn’t have a doc out here.” There was silence as Jason listened to whatever it was Tim was relaying, poking at Dick’s side while he did. “Copy.” Dick felt his eyes drifting shut again but shot them open again when Jason snapped his name. “We gotta get on the roof. Replacement is sending the Batwing.”

With a groan of pain, Dick tried his best to help Jason get his body in an upright position. But he knew there was no way he was going to get up to the roof without Jason doing all the work and when he said as much, all he got was a grunt in return. His focus hazed a bit until he was crying out in pain again as Jason heaved him up over his shoulder and carried him out of the warehouse.

Being thrown over his shoulder didn’t hurt as much as Dick had thought it would and briefly he wondered if he was going into shock from blood loss. Had the wound been that bad? Had it been long enough for him to have reached that point.

He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t clear the fog from his mind enough to think straight.

And when he tried to ask Jason about time frames, his words were slurred and garbled, causing Jason to snap, “Shut up, Dickhead. Just…just focus on not bleeding out.”

Dick told himself that the panic he heard in Jason’s voice was all in his head.

The sound of the plane landing on the rooftop they occupied was muffled and that was also concerning for his condition. But his focus was nonexistent at this point and he could only gasp when Jason rushed them into the plane the instant he could.

Things happened in flashes after Jason strapped him down onto the gurney with the help of Duke, who immediately started cutting away his suit. He remembered Jason removing his helmet and domino, pressing both his hands into the wound on Dick’s side, the elder being too far gone to complain about the spike of pain.

He remembered the warm face of Leslie Thompkins over him, mouth moving but words sounding far away. Almost as if he were underwater.

He remembered shouting and a steady beep beep beep that was followed by a hand pressed to his forehead and a familiar voice whispering go back to sleep.

He remembered coming to and finding a warm body pressed next to his uninjured side, smaller than his own and familiar from nights spent comforting nightmares on both sides of the relationship. There were also two hands clinging to the hand on his injured side, but when he tried to turn and see who it was the haze came back and everything faded back to black.

The next time he came to, there was more clarity. There was also a hell of a lot more pain.

“Dick,” he turned to find Bruce sitting in the chair next to him, relief smoothing over his face. He had apparently been approved to be moved to the cave medical wing since this wasn’t the clinic or hospital Jason and Duke had brought him to. But his vision was still fuzzy around the edges and he couldn’t quite focus to be sure. “Chum, you with us?”

“Wha-?” His voice cracked, unused and in desperate need of water. Bruce grabbed the cup next to his bed and slipped a straw in it before pressing it to his cracked lips, letting Dick take a few slow sips. He knew the drill by then. Since he had no way of knowing how long he had been out yet, he needed to be careful not to make himself sick.

Pulling the cup away, Bruce kept it in hand but sat back in his chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Hurts.”

“I’m sure it does. Whatever they shot you with went all the way through but tore up your side in the process. Leslie was not happy about the amount of damage she had to repair on the table,” Bruce told him. Dick blinked slowly, eyebrows creasing as he tried to remember what had happened.

“Shot gun of some kind,” he offered up, remembering the distinct sound of the cocking of the weapon before it was shot at him from behind. “These guys are low level, but-“ Bruce shook his head and placed a hand on Dick’s wrist.

“It doesn’t matter right now. We can figure it out later. Tim and Jason are already pulling together everything to see what they can do to help.” That caused Dick’s frown to deepen.

“Jason?” Bruce frowned in response.

“Yes, Jason. He’s the one who found you after you lit your beacon. Do you not remember?” Dick shook his head, more to try and clear the fog than to deny his memory. “He had already been coming out to find you to offer his help.” But that didn’t make sense. Jason had been avoiding him. He had gone out of his way to keep his distance. In a world where Jason didn’t hate him, it made sense that the anti-hero would come help. He had connections to the underworld that would prove invaluable in a case like this, but they didn’t live in a perfect world.

“Jason hates me.”

“I what now?” Dick’s gaze snapped to the doorway where Jason stood, still dressed in his Hood gear but without the helmet and mask. Unable to reconcile what Bruce had been saying with the Jason he had been faced with recently, Dick just stared at the imposing figure he created.

“You hate me?” Jason pinched his eyebrows together at that and took a few more steps into the room.

Bruce cleared his throat and Dick tore his eyes away from Jason’s to look at the older man. But Bruce wasn’t looking at Dick, his gaze was on Jason and Dick couldn’t see it clear enough to tell what he was thinking. “Anything to report?” There was a heavy pause before Jason answered.

“We knocked out a major supply chain and Tim’s staying at Dick’s to run the encryption on the files we lifted. He thinks he’ll have the chemist’s name before lunch.” The civility between the pair confused Dick even more than the fact that Jason hated him. When had that happened? How had he missed the fact that Jason, of all people, could work easily with Bruce?

Rubbing at his head to try and ward off the on-coming headache, Dick sighed and leaned further back into the pillows behind him. The pain in his side was starting to get to the point where he couldn’t ignore it and he wanted to go back to sleep. He definitely did not want to get into anything involving Jason right then.

“I’m going to go get Alfred. He can give you something, Dick,” Bruce said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder before standing and heading out the door Jason had come in from. Instead of looking over at the other man still in the room with him, Dick just sighed and closed his eyes.

There was a shuffling noise for a moment before a woosh of air. “I don’t hate you.” Furrowing his brows, Dick opened his eyes and looked over to find Jason had taken over the chair Bruce had previously been in.

“Could have fooled me,” Dick replied, his voice taking on a bit more of a bitter edge than he had meant for it to. The look that flashed across Jason’s face made Dick feel slightly guilty, but then he remembered how he had basically been treated like an infectious disease for no reason and told himself he shouldn’t feel that way. But he did because it was Jason and it sucked to be on the outside looking in.

“Master Richard, so glad to see you awake,” Alfred’s voice cut off anything Jason might have said in response. And Dick welcomed the interruption because he was in too much pain to focus on anything Jason might have had to say. “Master Bruce said you are in pain? Let’s take a look at everything and then I will give you something to take care of that. The next time you wake, we should be able to move you upstairs to your room. I assume you’ll be more comfortable up there than in the cave.”

Alfred’s words were familiar as he looked over the various monitors Dick was attached to before pulling the sheet down and lifting the shirt Dick had been changed into up so he could look under the bandage on his side. It was a familiar routine and he was thankful for that.

“This looks to be healing nicely. Dr. Thompkins shall be coming by tomorrow to look at it herself, but I will report to her that infection seems to be a nonissue.” The bandage was replaced, and the shirt pulled back down before Alfred was off to grab a syringe and a vial of what Dick assumed was the good pain medication.

It was then that he made the mistake of looking at Jason, who was staring hard at the spot where Dick’s wound was hidden by his shirt and bandages.

Dick didn’t know what to make of that look on his face.

“Now, this will put you out rather quickly but when you awake again I shall have some soup for you and we will move you upstairs,” Alfred explained as he added the medication to the IV drip Dick was hooked up to already.

“How long was I out?”

“A little over three days. Though, to be fair, we did keep you under for the first two on purpose. There was a lot of damage and Dr. Thompkins needed time to repair it.” Dick nodded and shifted down as much as he could without bothering his side too much. He had known his side was pretty much swiss cheese after that gunshot.

“Thanks, Alfie.” The older man hummed and placed a hand on his shoulder, just like Bruce had, and Dick spared one last glance to Jason as he felt the pull of sleep hit him. That haunted look was gone from his face, but his eyes were still glued to Dick’s side.

“Sleep well, Master Richard.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Can we talk?”

Dick looked up from the laptop he had managed to convince Bruce to let him have and found Tim standing in the doorway of his bedroom. Nodding his head, he waved his brother in while shutting the computer with a soft click.

“What’s up, Tim?” He watched the younger move into the room and assess the area before choosing to sit on the side of the bed away from Dick’s injury, near the window instead of the door.

“I found something at you place and I think there’s some things you need to know. Some things I don’t think you’re going to get out of the person who should be telling you.” Both of Dick’s eyebrows rose at that and he would happily admit that his curiosity was piqued.

“What did you find?”

“Your lists about all the things Jason has done with the entire family vs what he’s done with you.” Oh. Damn. He knew he should have shredded those.

“Timmy….”

“No, just listen for a minute, okay?” Shifting uncomfortably, Dick nodded. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know whatever it was Tim was planning on saying. The air in the room was stifling and Dick hated it. He hated that there was always this undercurrent between the two of them, ever since he “returned from the dead”. Part of Dick wondered if he should sit Tim and Jason down and tell them the real reason he had agreed to do Bruce’s mission. But then the idea of them having to wear that burden, that truth of their father figure, made him think twice. He might not be okay with Bruce like they used to be, but he wasn’t going to destroy Tim’s image of the man and he wasn’t going to be the cause of Jason pulling away from the family again.

He refused.

Focusing back on Tim after his thoughts drifted, Dick realized his brother had been speaking. “Sorry Tim, I zoned. The meds are still kicking.” Tim’s flat look and annoyed quirk of his brow told Dick the younger man didn’t believe him for a moment.

“I was saying that Jason doesn’t hate you.” Now it was Dick’s turn to not believe Tim. “No, really. I know you made those lists and I can see why you drew that conclusion, but he really doesn’t. I can’t explain why he doesn’t, he definitely needs to be the one to share that information, but just know that he doesn’t.”

“Tim, I appreciate you trying to help,” Dick started but was interrupted by a throat clearing at the door of his bedroom. Jumping slightly, Dick turned to find Jason in the doorway. Flinching at the burning pain the movement caused, he pressed a hand to his side and hissed.

“Shit, Dick. Sorry!” Jason rushed forward and looked like he was going to press a hand over Dick’s but stopped short.

“Are you okay? Do we need Alfred?”

“No, I’m okay,” Dick waved off Tim’s question. He breathed through the pain before slowly relaxing back into the pillows behind him, warily watching Jason have some kind of silent conversation with Tim. “Did you need Tim for something, Jason?”

Turquoise eyes looked over at him before his shoulders heaved in a sigh.

“Tim, can you give us a minute?”

“Yeah, okay.” Dick kept his eyes on Jason, but saw Tim stand out of the corner of his eye and head out of the room. Though not before stopping to squeeze Jason’s arm, and Dick’s not sure he hid the pain that gesture caused him from his face well enough because Jason frowned.

“You can sit, you know?” Dick gestured to the chair Tim had vacated and watched Jason eye it for a moment before he settled for pulling himself up onto the desk across from the bed. It was familiar and Dick could remember Jason doing just that on the rare occasion that Dick had stayed at the manor before Jason had died. It made him feel even more heartbroken at what he and Jason had become.

The silence stretched thin between them and Dick shifted, more out of awkwardness than pain. He wasn’t sure what was about to happen between them, but he was curious what Jason would be willing to reveal.

“Were you ever going to tell anyone about before you left for Spyral?”

Frowning, “I’m pretty sure the entire superhero community knows about what happened.” His frown deepened when Jason rolled his eyes with a shake of his head. “What? You guys all knew about the Crime Syndicate and me being hooked up to the Murder Machine.”

“After that, Dickhead.”

Dick considered what he was saying and thought about the only event that had really taken place between his actual death and him leaving for Spyral.

“How did you find out about that?” He knew for a fact Bruce would never tell anyone that he had beaten his son into submission. And Dick had only told one other person who had no association to the family.

“You didn’t find it odd at all that after hating you for so long, Timmy all of the sudden “forgave” you?” He had, actually. He had wondered why the hell Tim had suddenly felt like Dick was worthy again, but he hadn’t wanted to push his luck, so he didn’t ask. It had felt too wonderful to have one of his brothers back that he hadn’t questioned. “I never watched it, but he gave me the cliff notes.”

“So what?” Dick asked, shrugging his shoulders. Tim had forgiven him because he had seen Dick had basically been given no choice. But Jason apparently didn’t feel the same as their younger brother.

Jason sighed, “You let us be pissed at you for over a year. You let me punch you and accuse you of some pretty terrible shit. You could have told us at any point, and we would have believed you.” Jason paused and Dick didn’t know if he was wanting him to say something, but he didn’t. He just remained silent and took the judgment as he always did. “You’re doing it right now! For fuck’s sake, Dick. Stop being such a fucking martyr all the time and realize that it doesn’t always have to fall on your shoulders!”

“It’s not about being a martyr, Jason.” Dick held up a hand when it looked like Jason was going to argue. “It’s not. You both had already made up your minds about what happened. And I was on a timetable. Then when I was back for good, I…” He had had too much trauma he needed to deal with, and he didn’t have the energy to dredge it all up again just so his brothers would forgive him. “It didn’t matter in the end. Going to Spyral had always felt like a punishment and having you and Tim be upset fell in line.”

“Punishment for what?”

“For so much,” he admitted softly. “So much more than any of you will ever know about. But mostly for getting caught by the Syndicate and for letting Lex kill me.” He watched Jason blanch a bit and though Dick wanted to comfort him, he just didn’t have it in him.

“I trained you to live, and I watched you die.”

“And the longer it went without explanation, the less it seemed to matter.”

“And you don’t think we deserved to know the truth about what Bruce did?”

“No. You didn’t deserve that. And I would go back in time to make sure Tim never witnessed it if I could. But you? Especially not you.” And maybe Dick was wrong for feeling that way, but he would always want to protect his family. He would always do whatever he could to make sure they were safe. They all knew it and Bruce had capitalized upon it.

“Because I’m so fucking fragile that I might go insane again if I knew Bruce had beat the shit out of you just to get you to agree to go undercover and lie to the whole family?” Dick knew Jason was baiting him for a fight at this point, but he was too tired to engage.

Rubbing at his forehead, Dick closed his eyes. “Jay, I hated when you were back, but you weren’t with us. I hated having that distance between us.” And he had done everything he could think of to bring Jason back. He had given him chance after chance, even though he kept doing unspeakable things. “And then things started getting better between us and I was so relieved. I thought it was just a matter of time before you came home.” But it had taken Dick’s death to really mend the bridges that had been destroyed. “I didn’t want to be the reason you separated yourself from the family again. And don’t try to tell me it’s not a valid concern.”

He watched Jason huff out an affirmative noise, shaking his head. But Dick knew he was right. Jason might be good with members of the family, but his relationship with Bruce would always be fragile.

“I have been noticing it for months now, your relationships with everyone. How when I call Tim, you’re usually there in the background. How you take Duke places, dance with Cass, and even spar with Damian. Steph mentions you all the time when she’s around and I saw you with Bruce in the medbay.” The all too familiar ache he felt in his chest when he noticed these things came back and Dick rubbed at it. “I’ve watched all of this at a distance because that’s where you’ve kept me. No matter what I’ve tried, I have been on the outside looking in. And I just don’t understand. You can move forward with Bruce, maybe you even forgave him. But you can’t do that with me?”

Jason pushed off the desk and walked over to the window, turning his back to Dick. And the older man would never admit how much that hurt. He just didn’t understand how, especially if he knew the truth, Jason could still be so upset with him that he would shut him out like that.

“Why does it bother you so much?”

“What?”

“Why do you care that I have relationships with all of the others but not you?”

“I-“ Dick wasn’t sure how to answer that. Why did it matter? He and Jason had been at odds for almost the entire time they had known each other. With the exception of maybe that last year before his death, when they had finally began developing a friendship or whatever it was that had been happening between them, they had almost always been fire and ice.

But Dick also knew that he cared for Jason. That even though he was outcasted by the man, the man Dick watched blossom over the years was one that he cared deeply about. One he wanted to be part of his own life. But it was more than that, something whispered in his mind. It was more than he was willing to admit.

“I was so angry with you when you came back from Spyral and I wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of you for it,” Jason admitted, turning to look at Dick. And Dick could only nod, understanding. “Then I had Tim calling me in the middle of the night panicking because he came across the crowl footage of the fight you had with Bruce and I wondered why the hell you would keep that from us. Why would you not tell us the real story and just let us blame you.”

“I ultimately still made the decision to go.”

“The hell you did, Dick! The hell you did.” Jason’s temper was flaring again, and it took Dick by surprise. He had seen Jason mad plenty of times, more than he could ever recall. But he had never seen Jason mad for him. “You begged. You mentioned us all by name. You knew that after Damian, it would be too much.”

And that was true. It was exactly why he had begged Bruce to let him come home. “But he also made a valid point. Someone had to do it. Someone had to make sure they didn’t do to anyone else what the Syndicate had done to me.”

“But you didn’t have to be dead for that. At least not to us.” Jason paused and moved closer to the bed. “We didn’t have to mourn you.”

“He had my funeral before he even told me about the mission. I doubt Timmy found that information. He kept me in a chemically induced coma so I could heal up and he could make all the arrangements.” From the look on his face, Dick had a feeling that was the wrong thing to say to Jason. So he tried to say something to calm him down a bit. “No matter what any of you say, Jay, protecting you all will always be my job. I will always sacrifice myself for all of you.”

“And that’s the problem. That’s why I have been keeping my distance.” Dick frowned and searched Jason for some kind of silent answer. But the look on his face gave nothing away. “I don’t want to mourn you again. Not when-” He cut himself off, shaking his head. Dick could see the muscles in his jaw clenching.

“Jay?”

“Before everything turned to shit, we were good. Right?” Nodding his head, he remained silent to see where Jason was going. “I thought so too. There was…something happening. And maybe it was wishful thinking on my end. A childhood crush that not even the Pit could erase.” His laugh was self-deprecating, and Dick hated it. But his words confirmed that Dick hadn’t been the only one thinking there had been something more between them back then.

“It wasn’t wishful thinking,” Dick offered, softly and carefully. And for a moment, Jason just stared at Dick with his emotions so blatantly on display. It was the most open Jason had probably ever been with him and his chest began to ache for a reason other than missing the other man. “But what does this have to do with me protecting you all?”

“I don’t want to mourn someone I’m in love with. Again.”

The words hit Dick right in the gut, stealing all his breath. Jason was in love with him. Not just Jason loved him. No, he was in love with him he said. And he didn’t want to experience what it felt like to lose someone he was in love with again.

“So, you don’t hate me?” Dick asked, dazed. And the laugh that escaped Jason was surprised and emotionally strained.

“No, you fucking asshole. I don’t hate you.”

“You never said?” Right? Dick sorted through his memories as quickly as he could from when things were good between them and couldn’t recall that admission. There were moments where maybe the look in Jason’s eye could have been a confession, but Dick had been so worried about screwing everything up that he had missed it.

“I never said,” Jason confirmed. “And by the time I was certain, I was standing at your grave and it was too late.” He closed the remaining space between them and carefully sat down on the bed, looking as though he was searching for something in Dick’s eyes. “And when you came back, the anger pushed all those feelings away. It was easier to feel betrayed.” Nodding his head, Dick looked down at his blanket covered lap. He could understand that. “But then Tim called and I was faced with the fact that you had done all of it against your will and I couldn’t ignore my feelings anymore.”

Dick sighed, “But you still stayed away.”

“I did. Because it just reminded me of how much it had hurt to bury you and how you would always be this self-sacrificing idiot who put everyone else before himself.” Dick couldn’t argue with that assessment. He had always been of the mind that his life meant so much less than the people he cared for. He would be happy to die if they could live. He didn’t want to actually die, but he would if it saved them all.

What didn’t make sense was what had suddenly changed. Dick wasn’t sure why Jason was telling him any of this now. “What’s different?”

“What?” Jason sounded confused and Dick looked up at him.

“What’s different now? You didn’t have to tell me all of this. You could have let me keep on believing you hate me.” He could have kept protecting his heart.

“You almost died, Dick. When I found you in that warehouse, I thought you were going to die. Duke even asked what we were supposed to do if you died on our way back because we didn't have paddles on the plane for some reason. Tim thought you were dead already when we rolled you out.” Jason licked his lips and shifted, looking like he was debating something internally. Dick found out what that something was the moment Jason’s hands pressed against his cheeks. “You almost died, and I was faced with the fact that I was still going to have to mourn someone I loved if you did. And when Leslie said you would live after we spent hours wondering if you’d make it through surgery, I knew I didn’t want to pretend anymore.”

“Little wing…” Dick whispered, reaching up one hand to wrap his fingers around one of Jason’s wrists. His breathing was coming out heavier than before, the confession sucking the air from his lungs.

“I am so fucking in love with you, Dick Grayson. And I don’t want you to die thinking I feel anything less than that.”

Before he could respond, Jason was pressing his lips to Dick’s in the softest kiss Dick had ever received. A gentle press of one mouth to another. But it was the most emotionally charged kiss the older man had ever received. Ever.

It was over more quickly than Dick wanted it to be, but Jason looked like he had more to say.

“I don’t expect you to feel the same. Not with the way things have been on your end since you came back,” Jason told him, rubbing a thumb against Dick’s cheekbone. His other hand dropped away from Dick’s face. “I can wait until you’re ready. But like I said, I didn’t want to keep pretending.”

And that was a sentiment that Dick could appreciate. He was happy to know Jason wasn’t expecting him to say he loved him back because he was still adjusting to the idea that Jason didn’t hate him. He cared deeply for the younger man, but there was too much to sort through in his head before he could confirm love. He had rushed into things too many times in the past and it had turned out poorly each and every time.

“You know Tim is going to take credit for your confession, right?” Dick chuckled as Jason rolled his eyes.

“Replacement is a shit. He’s been bugging me about talking to you for ages. He’s too observant for his own good.” Yes, that was definitely the truth.

There was a moment of silence between them and Dick turned his head to kiss the inside of Jason’s wrist on the hand still cupping his cheek. “I can’t say it yet. But I don’t think I’m far off. In the meantime, maybe we can just…”

“Hang out?”

Dick chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, hang out. And maybe kiss some more. Because that was a teaser and I’m not going to be up for much more for a while.”

“Leslie would have my head if I did anything to slow your healing.” Dick hummed. “But yeah, we can do the kissing thing,” he muttered as he leaned forward again.

And as Dick sighed into the feeling of Jason’s lips against his again, he was silently thankful for the asshole who had decided to use a crappy shot gun as his weapon of choice.

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cetaceans-pls · 4 years

Text

A Piña Colada, Heavy On The Piñas (Bru&Jay)

Charity commission for @setsailslash who is both charitable and a massive enabler. Thank you for being kind as you empower the neurotic middle-aged man within me

Through costumed vigilanteism, Hawaiian shirts, and corned beef dinners, Jason and Bruce rebuild a relationship one day at the beach at a time.

Batman - All Media Types, Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd

On AO3 here.

Charity comm info here.

And away we goooooooo.

It doesn’t happen often, that Batman needs to work a case outside of Gotham for long enough a stretch that Bruce Wayne has to announce an impromptu vacation and actually follow through with it. There are whispers that human traffickers in the Caribbean have decided to crawl up the East Coast, with Gotham now a hotspot of terrible activity, and after months of trying to put the fear of Batman into the gangs with little abatement, it’s time for a vacation right at the source. Things are getting tumultuous, and time’s of the essence. If he doesn’t step in now, he won’t be able to for months, probably, and that settles it.

Bruce Wayne is going to be in the Bahamas, baby, and Batman’s going to be busy in Cuba while they’re down there.

As has become tradition by now, any longish-term work trip abroad means that someone has to come with him. You almost die of three gunshot wounds and a side of dysentery one time in Zambia while hunting meta-animal poachers, and suddenly you aren’t allowed to travel internationally without a chaperone. If the villains of the city could see him now, oh.

(He still hares off on missions that are far, far too dangerous for any of his brood, despite their vehement protests about how he defines their competencies and his need for support, but that is one of the many, many hills Bruce would be happy to die on.)

Bruce clears his schedule for a good two weeks and sends a memo off to the League, before pulling up the family chat group up on the mainframe. The single most secure and heavily-encrypted messaging service in the world, more impenetrable even than the system outfitted for the Justice League, and the five most recent messages have Dick spamming eggplants and Damian growing increasingly incoherent with rage while maintaining perfect punctuation.

It’s in response to a photoshoot Bruce did earlier in the year for a charity event. He’s mostly naked and it’s mostly tasteful, right up until Dick drops the eggplants, but better to get phallic symbols from his children than from the spam his corporate Twitter gets, probably.

Maybe.

Time to recruit a chaperone; it’s only 3 in the morning, he imagines everyone’s awake, except for Alfred. Alfred never goes on his trips with him, anyways, so it doesn’t really matter.

(Tim had said it was like how countries don’t let their presidents and vice presidents fly in the same plane; losing one is unbearable, losing both is apocalyptic. Bruce thinks it’s terribly flattering to be the vice to Alfred’s stoic leadership, even if he would never say it.)

B: One week trip to Cuba to look into the Contreras trafficking ring. Pick amongst yourselves who will be joining me.

Every single time he lives in the vain hope that all of them will have a serious discussion to figure out schedules and weigh the merits and demerits of their skill sets against what’s needed for the mission at hand.

Every single time, the person who accompanies him is the person who replies first.

Bruce is completely and utterly unsurprised to see Stephanie, Tim, Dick, Cass, and Damian typing, even though Damian at least should have been asleep hours ago.

Bruce is surprised by who’s first past the post.

J(ustin) T(imberlake): FIRST FUCKERS

That is, indeed, a first.

Maintaining his calm is touch and go for a minute there, but peace comes back, eventually, along with the absolute revelation that Jason has willingly chosen to accompany him for the next two weeks. He would think it was an emergency signal, a call for help, but Jason hadn’t used the monkey-with-its-hands-over-its-mouth picture, so.

It’s so idiotic, they’ve been somewhat reconciled for years at this point, but in the dark of the cave Bruce cannot resist the giddy, hysterical smile that takes him by the mouth.

They plan to take the private jet to the Bahamas, and a couple of hours before departure Bruce takes great care to be seen having lunch obnoxiously at a luxury hotel. He’s kitted out in a Hawaiian shirt and flipflops despite the grey miserable snow decorating the streets of Gotham, all for maximum annoyingness. According to their agreement, Jason will be squirreling himself aboard the jet as the pilot; he’s likely already there. Bruce, meanwhile, jovially requests a takeaway neapolitan baked Alaska despite the fact that:

Le Chevalier does not do takeout

The concept of a baked Alaska is probably offensive enough for the head pastry chef to consider ritual disembowelment to preserve her honour

Ice cream is far, far too pedestrian for such an establishment

For better or for worse, billionaires do tend to get their way, and after tipping the wait staff four times their monthly income to see them through the near future, Bruce wades through dirty snow to get to Alfred and the car waiting to take him to the airport.

It might have been meant as an insult, that his dessert order is in a beautiful glass container wrapped up in aluminium foil to look like a crinkly swan from a dodgy buffet, but he mostly just thinks it’s charming.

He hopes Jason will, too.

“You took your sweet ass time.”

Bruce doesn’t dignify that with a response, placing the ice cream-laden swan on Jason’s lap. He looks painfully normal in a crisp white shirt and dark slacks, hair neatly tucked under a pilot’s cap. Not for the first time, nor for the last, Bruce wonders what it would have been like to successfully raise a single child to be happy and normal. If Damian or Tim called him tomorrow and said they wanted to become accountants, even his experienced investigative mind can’t predict how he’d react.

“It’s dessert,” he says, instead of talking about accountants. “It’s good to see you, Jason.”

Jason squints at him, before tipping his jaunty little hat. “Welcome aboard, Master Wayne. It’s a pleasure to have you flying with us.” He’s pitch-perfect as a courteous pilot, though the feral does come out a little when he rips the swan’s head off and eats the ice cream meringue like it’s a hamburger, held in his hands and staining his pristine white gloves.

Bruce is very proud of himself. An entire 3 minutes already, and they haven’t argued yet. “Thank you for agreeing to help on this mission,” he says with studied casualness as Jason bites off a hearty chunk and makes a pleased sound when he hits ice cream. He doesn’t ask why are you here , because Alfred taught him better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Collaboration is an important part in crime-fighting, and-”

Jason’s laughing, and Jason’s definitely laughing at him, but that is still not them screaming at each other, so it’s still a win. “Old man, I’ve been up to my literal goddamn eyeballs in cocaine cleaning out the Escabedos this past month, the universe owes me a break. Nothin’ like crippling a trafficking ring, you know how it goes.”

It can’t be helped; Bruce’s eyes drop to Jason’s legs, as he tries to figure out if the slim cut is capable of hiding a couple of Jerichos. Jason catches him doing it, and his grin turns into a bright show of teeth. “If you’re looking for my friends, they’re stowed in cargo. C’mon, Bruce, as if I’m gonna roll through security with thigh holsters.”

The slacks hide no guns, but there are distinct lines where the fabric draws taut across Jason’s thighs. Bruce quirks an eyebrow.

“Loaded thigh holsters,” Jason corrects himself, rolling his eyes. “Now go and have a seat, I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ mind if I don’t have a welcome drink in a hollowed-out pineapple in like 5 hours.”

That’s all right; Bruce has a box full of rubber bullets that fit perfectly into any of Jason’s top 3 preferred guns. He’s got a whole host of techniques to counteract Jason’s less savoury habits, and the baked Alaska is merely the start of it. When Batman puts his mind to trying to kill with kindness, it’s a fearsome sight, and Bruce is putting everything on the line for this trip to both 1. Address the kidnapping and distribution of Cuban doctors into the world of black market medicine, and 2. Get Jason sweet enough on him that Bruce can extract a promise for weekly dinners home at the Manor.

It’s a big task, but he’s got the Caribbean and the family chat group on his side; Bruce feels closer to invulnerable than usual, as he nods brusquely at Jason and leaves the cockpit.

He’s brought plenty of reading material for the flight; a solid fifth of it are notes on Jason’s likes, dislikes, and peccadilloes. As the jet begins to taxi, Bruce neatly writes down ‘Welcome drink in pineapple (alcoholic?)’ in the Like column, and takes a moment to appreciate this littlest of little victories.

They separate on arrival, Jason disappearing with the ground crew, Bruce going through the rigmarole of being very loud and very attention-grabbing in the airport terminal. It’s all been cleverly planned; after the flight, they would get some time to themselves. Jason can head straight to the beach villa, if he wished, while Bruce will be going around Nassau like a very visible, very good-natured, concussed idiot.

By the time they meet up for dinner, the sky’s gone dark, Jason’s gone a deep glossy brown, and Bruce is nursing the standard headache he gets when he has to pretend he enjoys being a billionaire playboy. Bruce had considered splurging on a fancy seafood dinner for their first night here, but Jason isn’t and has never been the type to be moved by money, so instead he comes back to the villa with a bag full of corned beef and conch stew.

Jason takes a look at the selection, and snorts. “Did you for real not get us any rice or fries or anything?” He peels the lid off the stew before the answer comes, and is slurping it right from the lip like it’s a glass of milk.

Bruce is horrified but also a little amused. It’s likely a rite of passage for a lot of parents, learning to buy separate servings so that when your children inevitably grubby up the food, you still have a plate to turn to. He goes at his own meal with as much dignity as an exceedingly bendy plastic spoon can afford.

It’s delicious, and sitting on the darkened balcony nibbling on a worryingly tough bit of conch while his dead-not dead son guzzles soup like a garbage disposal come to life, Bruce feels exceedingly human and quietly, deeply happy.

Maybe Jason hadn’t been the only one who had needed a bit of a break. There are some crises that are hard even for (especially for) the Batman.

He melts into the feeling and just listens as Jason, who seems to be in an unusually chatty mood, talks about all the little things that he had filled the evening with: how the Caribbean felt on his ankles then his knees then the whole of him, the taste of soursop ice cream on a hot day, and the absolutely atrocious carving of a monkey made of coconut that he’s bought for Damian.

Bruce can’t remember the last time he’s heard Jason sound this casually at peace with anything; it must have been many, many years ago, when Jason was in the dreamlike sweet spot between being newly-adopted and so sure that it was all a cruel joke, and when he was Robin and the desire to make the world just and fair had him baring his fangs. He knows he did wrong by Jason, but it really would be nice if he could figure out where it was he had misstepped, instead of just when.

All children should be able to sit on a beach with their parent and almost choke on beef when they start laughing so hard a bit of it goes down the wrong pipe as they recount Dick’s latest quest to be Tinder’s most popular ass shot.

“Dick’s great loves are his family, being a good man in a bad world, and the entire region of his body between his nipples and his knees,” Bruce says, mostly an honest observation of his eldest, which makes Jason choke in earnest now, wheezing and laughing and potentially dying of corned beef.

It’s one of the better dinners Bruce has had.

Nips2Knees: Okay there’s no need to go changing usernames just because you two are having a great bonding experience!!

Nips2Knees: What is this even supposed to mean?! Alfred’s gonna shame me next time I show up for breakfast Jay honest to God

A few hours after that , and the Batwing is skimming the waters breaking against the sea walls of Malecón, Havana. People are still up and about despite it being the wrong side of midnight, but the jet is also a submersible, so as soon as Bruce and Jason have clambered across the low barrier the entire ship just quietly, ominously sinks into the water.

“That’s never gonna not be creepy,” Jason says, shuddering theatrically in the warm breeze of the late night.

“You never used to have a problem with the sea,” Bruce hears himself saying, and wonders why his brain hadn’t seen fit to stop that dumb little observation.

Miracle of miracles, Jason just shrugs. “There’re just a hell of a lot of ways to drown, what can I say?” He tugs his leather jacket to sit more neatly on his shoulders, looking strange and a little alien for a whole host of reasons. The white streak, the imposing build, the strange luminescence of his green eyes, just.

Jason Todd is a magnet for attention, which Bruce is glad for right now because it gives him an excuse to very carefully not think about if rebirth in the Pit counts as a drowning, and if blood flooding the lungs counts as a drowning, and if-

He fixes his wig, fusses with his fake, full beard. “Your disguise isn’t exactly Havana at night, Jay.” Leather jacket, linen shorts, a neon pink shirt. When a breeze comes by and the pant legs flutter, the gun holsters flicker in and out of sight.

They’re loaded, clearly, and not with rubber bullets either despite Bruce’s considerable efforts.

It’s as smooth a deflection as Bruce will manage. The hook lands, and Jason is even polite enough to give a nibble as he takes a once-over of Bruce’s look for the evening. “Rich comin’ from you, B, you got a dead possum on the head and the chin, and you kinda look like a depressed middle-aged man who’s gonna go home to Nantucket and splurge on a top-end sit-down lawnmower ‘stead of communicatin’ your mid-life crisis to your wife Nancy.”

Bruce self-consciously pats his padded belly, a paunch disguising enough tech and weaponry to topple most democracies. “This is top-quality virgin hair,” he defends his costume. “The Batman can’t be seen here, but what is yet another depressed man past his prime? It’s the perfect disguise.”

He can’t remember that he’s ever worn socks underneath sandals before, and this much moustache is making him want to sneeze, but a loud oversized Hawaiian shirt smoothes over the wicked angles of grappling hooks and batarangs like magic made of bad taste. It’s better than a pair of glasses, for god’s sake.

Instead of railing against Bruce’s definition of ‘a perfect disguise’, Jason just stares at him for a long while, dead-eyed and silent. “B….. B, I need you to be honest with me right now, this is some life or death shit right here. Is that, for the love of literal Christ, a wig made of your own damn hair, you absolute fuckin’ weirdo?”

“Of course. Who else’s would it be?”

Some seabirds startle when Jason shrieks with laughter, and Bruce looks around to make sure they haven’t given away their position, even if the area is pretty deserted.

“You’re a fucking leather-face cosplaying virgin , B, god, you’re killing me right now, I literally know how that’s like.”

“ Jason!” Bruce scolds him, aghast at he’s not even sure what.

Tim D: Is everything okay why is Bruce called the Virgin now

Tim D: I can go pick you guys up but one of you is gonna have to do this art history paper instead

Tim D: This better not be you two getting high I was grounded for 2 months the last time somebody in my school smoked a joint and you two are off your heads in Cuba smfh

Havana’s architecturally the stuff of dreams, if you dream of human flight powered by cables and grappling guns and dapper scarves taking the place of aerodynamic capes. Absolutely stunning buildings, built low and sturdy and pretty, festooned in ornate decorations and art deco carvings that jut out like they’re begging for a hook and a swinging man.

Bruce’s clothes are double-sided, with the outside looking as pedestrian as possible while the inner lining is really the ghost of Ghillie suit futures. Where couples make out by the sea at two AM, he’s just an amiable foreign man trotting around with socks that go up to almost his knees. When he needs to get altitude or go a little invisible, it’s a little bit of indignity in an alley somewhere, and he’s off as he hopes he remembered to turn out both socks this time.

Jason’s patrolling the docks, on assignment to trace the exit route the smugglers are taking. Bruce is reasonably sure nobody’s going to die tonight; Jason’s trigger happy tendencies are tightly correlated to the annual income after tax of the perpetrator at hand, with some allowances made for the power dynamic between the criminal and the victim. With enough time, Bruce thinks that he could come up with an excellent formula that describes Jason’s prescription of murder, but for now he’s pretty sure desperate men trying to survive by way of smuggling other men isn’t going to be a death sentence.

The kingpins in Gotham though, oh, that’s going to be a Mess.

Bruce is generally opposed to imposing justice by way of death. It’s hard to put into words exactly why that is, but it has a lot to do with lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Jason’s a lot like Diana like that; he looks at context and background and history and class, the story of a person’s life, and when he pulls the trigger, it’s with the weight of his convictions behind him. He’s the antithesis to the sort of killer Bruce would be; somebody with a checklist for a brain, and if a person passes the critical mass of allowable crime, they’ll be put down.

They’ll all be put down, whatever their motivations, whatever their stories.

He mostly wants Jason to stop killing because he worries that some trick of not-quite-genetics is going to kick into gear, and Jason’s going to become as bad as Bruce, and then where will they be?

It’s pretty standard night-time musings; it’s not the first time Bruce has thought about how not a god nor any meta-human could ever compel him to formulate a kill switch for his children. It’s not even the first time he’s done it in the shadow of a massive bronze bell in a cathedral, really. It’s a first time with a beard, though, so never let anyone say that he didn’t try new things.

A man in a crisp white linen suit cuts across the plaza in front of them, like a glowbug in the humid darkness of a Cuban night. Bruce squints, and yes, it’s Orian Contreras, right down to his glossy moustache and his leather loafers, the man to turn to if your underground fighting ring or brothel needs some illicit medicine men.

Luck’s in the air tonight; Bruce had thought it would take days of tailing the small fry before he would even clap eyes on Orian, but here we are.

The Vedado district is filled with terrible, no good, horrific crime against Bat-approved architecture. All glass and steel and the absence of cornices and sticky-out drainpipes, god. The similarity to downtown Metropolis is absolutely appalling. Orian, at least, has the makings of a classic Gotham villain, because he arranges to meet in the Colón cemetery on a moonlit night, where mausoleums and sturdy granite Jesuses are as plentiful as the streetlights are rare.

Bruce is sat on the shoulder of a particularly fearsome avenging angel who’s threatening the entire eastern quadrant of the cemetery, and the amplifier hanging around her thumb helps him listen in on Orian’s important and extremely dull meeting a few hundred feet away. Logistics, even the logistics of human trafficking, are a lot more boring than one would tend to expect.

One of Orian’s men is talking about the diesel cost per square foot of shipping container when a shadow alights on the angel’s other shoulder. A slip of pink is still visible around the hips, but Jason looks surprisingly well-camouflaged just from zipping up his jacket and sitting in the odd-angled way the youths tend to, breaking his silhouette and his shadow.

“Anythin’ good, B?”

Everything that’s being said is being recorded, Bruce reminds himself when his first instinct is to go shush. Nagging Jason for shirking the docks to come by is only legitimate after he’s checked the status of Jason’s progress.

A second taken to double-think things through is an hour saved of being angry with each other.

So Bruce just shakes his head. “A list of names of crooked export officers, some plans around next month’s shipment. No mention of the big players, or where they’re getting the doctors.”

There’s a sharp crack of a tupperware being opened, and suddenly there’s roasted corn being waved in front of Bruce’s nose. He isn’t hungry, but he takes it anyways. He’s forgotten what the metabolism of someone in their twenties is like; it vaguely reminds him of when Dick had first become Nightwing, and had kept kit-kats stuffed down his temperature-controlled gauntlets. Where in his costume Jason had managed to keep takeaway, Bruce can’t even guess.

“We-ll, it’s all quiet on the docks. Can you imagine, a legit work-life balance, with no poor underpaid dockhand unloading shit at fuck AM? Crazy. And there’s just less crime overall, too. I only needed to beat up like two muggers in the past four hours.” There’s a crisp crunching noise from where Jason’s sat; it sounds like a taco of some sort. “Got a list of ships that routinely go to ‘Canada’, allegedly, which’re probably our best lead for transport.”

“Good work, Jason.”

Jason doesn’t immediately reply, and they just settle in silence for a while. Somebody is politely asking why they couldn’t hold these meetings in their offices, or at least at a restaurant or something, and Orian starts what can only be a 20-minute diatribe into how he has standards , and how suspicious it would be to have twelve men sitting around a table whispering very quietly in the middle of a restaurant, you idiot , etc., etc., etc.

Gone to the place where Bruce is not quite part of the world, a meditative state that’s somewhat restive but leaves him ready to roll into action at the slightest provocation, he startles more than he would like to admit when Jason leaps off his perch to land with the barest of thuds on the plinth bearing their angel.

He looks down, at his son.

Jason looks around, at this little township of the long dead. “I know some really amazing poets got buried here, so I’m gonna go for a walk and pay my respects to my fellow dead. You got shit under control here?”

Bruce nods, astonished that Jason took the effort to seek him out, and is taking even more effort to check in with him. Their villain is at this point talking about how money didn’t grow on trees, and how they were supposed to be a professional outfit. The Cuban accent is lilting and sounds half-a-step away from song at the best of times; it’s a little bit of a shock to the system to hear a crime lord sing-song his way through complaining about service tax. It lends an air to the unrealness of the night, and as Jason disappears into the maze of tombstones, Bruce tries to take a guess about who he’s going to go visit.

Dulce María’s buried here, he remembers that from his deep-dive into Cuban history and culture. Her name had been familiar; he had seen some of her works on Jason’s bookshelf way back when. He had remembered her the way he remembers the things Jason likes to read and Tim’s preferred brand of rechargeable AAA batteries; he remembers because they’re important to someone important to him.

There’s a poem she had written, and it had stuck in his memory after he had consumed every bit of writing in Jason’s room in those early days of burning grief.

The corpse of a pond is the mirror:

It’s a ghost

Of a living water that shone one day,

Free in the world, lukewarm, suntanned.

Does Jason know that he has always been and always will be the pond, Bruce wonders. Will Jason ever realise that the corpse and the ghost is always, always Bruce, literal death notwithstanding.

It’s heavy thinking for this late into the night, so Bruce tucks the thought away, and returns to the cold corn given to him by a warm son.

PennyOne: @TheVirginBrucie Master Bruce I fully appreciate your concern for my wellbeing in these sickly times, and I do understand that I am at somewhat higher risk with my age, but if you do not stop making all the electrical appliances in the kitchen spritz me with disinfectant if I so much as look at them, I will be very cross with you.

St. Ephie: Yo Alfie supplexed the coffee machine when the hidden nozzle got him right in the eyes B you better watch yo back

Days two, three, and four pass by in much the same way. Jason goes out to enjoy the beach and hoard weird gifts for people, and Bruce sleeps by whichever window lets in the sound of the ocean best. They have dinner together, which feels a little more miraculous day by day, and then they take the Batwing to Cuba in the deep dark night.

It’s surprisingly restive and productive. Day three is when Bruce finds out that the Contreras recruiting campaign involves having crooked Ministry of Health officials going to medical schools and recruiting junior doctors for ‘service abroad’, ostensibly as part of the important Cuban tradition of exporting skilled doctors in times of great need. Nowadays doctors and nurses are needed more urgently than ever, and a lot of doctors are saying ‘yes’ out of a sense of duty and a wary respect of an official in uniform.

He has a list of people who have accepted bribes and done the dirty, and figuring out what to do with it is still a bit of a concern. Handing it over to the authorities is difficult when he’s not familiar with the police here and won’t be able to hold the crooks or the system accountable once he leaves. They don’t have a Cuban League member, which is a tremendous oversight, so it may come down to getting the Martian Manhunter to come by and put the fear of something into the criminals as a deterrent while they recruit somebody for the region.

Orian appears to have kowtowed somewhat to the requests of his underlings, because on night five of this mission Bruce finds himself with a Cuba Libre, light on the rum, on the rooftop of Hotel Inglaterra. Jason’s not with him tonight, away with the Batwing to a city a couple hundred miles away that they suspect is the target of a lot of the recruiting effort.

It’s a little lonely.

He’s two tables away from where the team are meeting up, sat on a comfy sofa and the very image of a beleaguered father waiting for his family to come up after him. A few days into the trip and the beard is now starting to look a little worse for wear without Alfred’s tender loving care, but it does help sell the image of somebody at that stage of their holiday where they look both quite relaxed and very downtrodden.

Today they’re discussing pushing up the shipment date, because the underground scene is all well and good but black market hospitals with an endless supply of doctors is a goddamn cash cow at the moment, on account of a global pandemic and everything. Bruce had bugged all the seats on the rooftop terrace when he’d arrived a couple of hours earlier, bumbling from end to end while ooh-ing and aah-ing as he took pictures of the city lights. They’ve got a few real estate properties that they are thinking about converting into illegitimate hospitals for the rich and the desperate, and Bruce absent-mindedly sends off the locations for all these condemned buildings to Lucius so that Wayne enterprises may step in.

If the buildings are in reasonable shape, that’s extra beds for the sick and for those helping the sick, so it’s a win-win, really. After a long, long career as the Bat of Gotham, it’s sometimes such a stupid relief when a problem shows up that Bruce can actually solve with just money.

It’s halfway through a heated battle on the importance of buying air conditioning units (“It snowed in Massachusetts just last week, Nicolás, use your brain ,”) that a text pops up in the family chat.

J(ustin) T(imberlake): Doesn’t look like the smugglers have a presence here, but look at this

J(ustin) T(imberlake):

J(ustin) T(imberlake): I didn’t know flamingos existed past sundown wtf

Damian Wayne: FATHER what is THIS I must DEMAND that we acquire THESE FLAMINGOS for the MISSION.

It’s a funny feeling, to almost get motion sickness at how Damian’s texts hit peaks and valleys over the course of getting his point across, but Bruce will be absolutely damned before he brings in yet another ill-advised animal to the menagerie haunting the Manor and Alfred’s dreams.

He’s partway through composing a long, winding explanation on how the Manor didn’t have the resources to keep a flock of flamingos healthy, the numerous legalities involved in the importation of wild animals, the embargo on Cuban goods, and a dozen other reasons furnished with references, before a soft click catches his attention.

Bruce looks out the corner of his eye, and sees that the meeting must have hit a snag while he hadn’t been paying attention, and now three of the five men had their hands suspiciously tucked under their jackets, right at their waists.

The bug is pretty damn high-tech but it’s not any sharper than a human’s ears, which would imply that the man with the slicked-back dark hair closest to it is the one who’s got his finger on the trigger.

Shoot-outs aren’t common in Cuba, all things considered, but if things go south here there are a hell of a lot of tourists and staff and people just enjoying a night out here that could so easily become collateral.

Time for plan B.

Bruce presses down hard on where the belly button would be on a chubbier man, and imagines he can hear the hiss of the smoke bombs expelling their non-toxic wares from where they’re tucked into plant pots under smoke detectors.

Over at the round table discussion, there’s increasing heat in their whispered argument, but it’s thankfully cut short when the fire alarm finally starts squealing.

Bruce obligingly follows the instructions of the staff, hustling along quickly so he can get changed and scale up the back of the hotel to tail the gang. If they’re planning to ship out the ‘goods’ soon, then they must be holding the doctors somewhere.

It’ll be a good job well done if Bruce can liberate them before he nails Orian to a wall, he thinks, as they head out from the Old Town and back to Verdado, home of shitty buildings.

They might even wrap up quickly enough that they can have a week or so just being in the Bahamas; it’s an excuse to see what he can do to shore up the islands for a more turbulent future. He’s been remiss in educating himself on the development of island economies. It’s definitely not an excuse to get more time with Jason, or at least not entirely just an excuse.

Bruce stalks them all the way to the poorer side of town, to a warehouse where heavy-duty locks on the windows and doors would prevent entrance and exit. Promising, promising. He lockpicks his way in and hides near the rafters, as gelled-hair-man goes to unlock a shipping container, and drags a young man out by his arm.

He’s close enough to make out the words; they aren’t good ones.

“So you’re the rat that’s figured out how to leave its cage, yes?” Orian drawls in standard villainy, coming in close to take the boy by the chin. “Do you know what we do when little rats like you try to hurt our important work?”

Once again, a lot of hands go to waists, and the poor, poor boy shudders and shakes and does not break his gaze . “If I am a rat,” the kid says, voice high and terrified and unbelievable steadfast, “you are a rabid dog, you bastard.”

Style points for spitting right in Orian’s eyes, thinks Bruce.

Points rescinded for getting on the nerves of a trigger-happy crimelord, thinks Bruce, as he pushes off and swoops down as vengeance dressed like a dad-bod on vacation.

He really should have listened when Alfred said that sir should consider at least a bulletproof vest under the Hawaiian shirts, please.

Jason’s still splashing around the Laguna de Leche trying to take a picture of the flamingoes that is so cute that Dami has enough motivation to badger the great Bat of Gotham into bring home a screaming shitting pink bird in the Batwing, when the call comes through on the comms.

“‘Lo, what’s up?” he answers, squatting awkwardly to get a close-up of a sleeping flamingo’s face. An absolute moneyshot, baby.

“Jason,” and it’s Cass, terse and urgent and unhappy.

Jason’s got no idea what’s going on, but it’s easy for the hindbrain to infer; Alfred not being on the comms means he’s prepping the med bay, which means an injury. This time of the night, it’s always one Bat or Bird at home with Alfred while everyone else spreads out like the good version of a plague to blanket Gotham, so that’s why Cass is there. Jason’s the one being called, which means he’s the one closest to the crisis.

It’s Bruce, it’s got to be (stupid fucking ) Bruce. Jason’s racing for the Batwing before he thinks to even answer.

“Hit me.”

“No comms contact. Injury, bad injury. Alfred says, bleed out. Jason, help .”

There’s swamp mud on the shiny surface of the ‘wing, and there’ll be more on the interior because it’s not exactly the time to stomp around on the Welcome Mat to clean his boots. “I’m gonna go fetch, Cass, so don’t worry, okay?”

God love her, Cass actually sounds reassured. “Thank you,” she says, careful and sweet as anything. “Location sent, Jay. See you at home?”

“See you in a bit, kid.”

God actually fucking damn all modern aeronautic engineers for never seeing fit to give jets some fucking accelerator pedals. It’s hard to take your aggression and stress out on a vehicle when all the thrusters are fucking hand-held.

God extra fucking damn Bruce McBatman Wayne, for having Jason over as back-up and refusing be backed the hell up.

Bruce’s location comes up, along with his oxygen level and pulse, and god only knows how Alfred sneaked a sensor onto a man so pro-secrecy he gets his flu shots undercover.

It’s Colón cemetery, of fucking course it’s the cemetery, no one can ever say that Bruce isn’t the marquis of modern melodrama, and Jason decides it’s acceptable if he just screams the whole 200 miles back to Havana. This is his penance, for being strung out on coffee at 3 AM and spontaneously deciding to try and reconcile harder with his father.

If the man has the cheek to die, Jason’s going to legitimately lose his fucking mind (again).

Bruce looks down, and sees his son.

Jason is cursing up an absolute storm, blue enough to potentially rouse the mothers buried here who will tut at him and go “Language, young man!”. What a sight that would be, an undead legion of parents scolding a dead-now-alive vigilante man in front of a different man cosplaying middle-aged normalcy on its deathbed.

Wild. Bruce laughs, and then wheezes. Blood loss does a number on your breathing, just one of those things that he doesn’t often need to think about. Does a number on your ability to think normal things too, but he’s like that even when most of his blood is inside his body, so Bruce would hate to make excuses.

“What the fuck is wrong you, there are like a bajillion hospitals you could have gone to while undercover, why are you always like this?” Jason is doing that scream-whispering thing, that skill learned by all night-time vigilantes, as he rips off Bruce’s shirt to survey the damage.

It’s not particularly pretty. Taking out half a dozen armed men in the full suit wouldn’t be enough to make him break a sweat, usually, but dressed like a casual dad with his centre of gravity a little off from the equipment strapped to his belly, it was a little harder.

Add to that trying to incapacitate without killing or even seriously injuring anyone while weaving in between gunfire as he kept the kid from getting shot, and all in all it’s a downright miracle that Bruce only has three through-and-throughs in shoulder, gut, and thigh, and maybe three cracked ribs. He eventually managed to subdue Orian and his men, cuffing them in an empty container to be dealt with later. He had also released all the prisoners while sluggishly bleeding out all over, and had barely been able to escape their confused gratitude.

Their usual rendezvous point is by the seawall in Malecón, but the cemetery was closer and more convenient for a dying man, you see. When he had ascertained that he had lost enough blood that he legitimately would pass out and bleed to death before he could get help, he had finally given up and called the Cave.

Alfred, damn him, had somehow already known that things had gotten out of hand. Bruce is willing to bet the beard wig is bugged, which is an intriguing bit of imaginative engineering, but even complimenting Alfred on his ingenuity hadn’t preserved him from being chewed out while Cassandra interjected occasionally with quiet calls of his name.

Black spots have been dancing in his sight for a while now, but he’s happy they’re around the edges and don’t obscure Jason. “I like your shirt,” he manages to groan out.

Jason doesn’t even pause for breath in his tirade, as he pulls out a nasty little switchblade from his boot and proceeds to tear his pretty lime-green shirt into absolute shreds. “Jesus, I don’t even get to keep this shirt, and for what? Dumbass bleeding out, didn’t even bring any first aid for a goddamn mission.” The blood-clotting powders that hide in little sugar sachets come out, poured liberally into the latest holes in Bruce’s body, and they froth a soft pink before they start to plug him up. “Why in the hell didn’t you call me in before you went full Rambo, you idiot? I thought I was here to be your goddamn backup. Was it so important to keep me and my guns away from your toys, B, that you’re happy to die in a fuckin’ cemetery just to keep shit quiet?”

It is, Bruce notes with some distant satisfaction, a new record. It took them 5 full days before Jason lost his temper with him. His heart is full, even if his veins are not.

He pats Jason on the cheek, as Jason wraps padding to his ribs and immobilises the arm on his bad side with a sling. Oh, that rum and Coke has gone straight to his head. “Just recon,” he murmurs, a little stern so that Jason doesn’t pick up any bad vigilante habits from him. “To find where the kids are kept.” Breathing hurts, moving hurts, talking hurts. “Warehouse, left tracer there. They were about to shoot one of the kids.” Another breath, a cough, some bloody saliva dribbling at the corners of his lips. Pity, Bruce had grown questionably fond of his loud overshirts. “No time to do anything. Kid was mouthy, got on their nerves.”

Bruce smiles, or tries to, and hopes the pink teeth aren’t too off-putting. “Reminded me of you. Wanted to save him.”

That’s the important part, the message he absolutely needed to pass to Jason because whatever goes on with bullets and bad guys and the Outlaws and the Pit, to Bruce all things Jason and Jason-adjacent are important and good and always, always deserve to be saved and protected.

He doesn’t think he gets his point across, worries a little that this might be a self-centered way of structuring his relationship with a man who’s no longer happy to be his son, but it’s the whole truth of the matter.

On God, on the angel at whose feet he’s huddled together, on every good thing Bruce has ever managed to do either as a billionaire or a Bat, the most important things of all the important things in the world is that Bruce is always going to try-try-try for his family.

They have a moment that might be tender but is definitely quiet, Jason slack-jawed and tense, Bruce loose-limbed and punchdrunk. There’s a lot of noise over the comms right now, it’s too much to parse, but Bruce in his head thinks he’s wrapped this up quite nicely. He probably won’t die tonight, and if he does it won’t even hurt too much. As far as missions abroad go, this has to count as an out-and-out success.

Jason very pointedly isn’t looking at him when he finally continues with his triage, and isn’t particularly gentle though he is incredibly careful as he fireman hoists Bruce into the Batwing, whose paintjob will need a touch up from where it’s scraped up against the tops of the more ambitious mausoleums.

Putting on the seatbelt felt a lot like getting his ribs broken all over again, but that’s not really enough pain to make Bruce groan, which is nice. The air-conditioning and the seat cushions in the jet are also very nice.

He’s most of the way to being unconscious before Jason’s done with pre-flight checks and radioed PennyOne to forewarn their arrival.

It probably is just his subconscious letting him hear what he wants to hear, when Jason’s voice floats towards him to let him know that “You literal dumbfuck, ever think that sometimes I want to save your ass too?”

It’s a nice dream.

When Bruce wakes up, he’s on the cot in the med bay, and someone’s been conscientious enough to turn on the heating in the mattress. It feels sublime against the inherent chill of the cave, and he feels surprisingly sharp and chipper despite the close-ish dance with death. He’s hooked up to all sorts of machines, which is pretty standard Alfred, and a bag of blood transfusing back into him hangs from the side.

If the own-hair wig had tickled Jason, what must he think of Bruce’s own-blood bag?

Keeping as quiet as he can, Bruce sits up. The family had a habit of piling up in and around the med bay whenever someone was injured seriously enough to be unconscious, and it heartens him like nothing else to see the mess of sleeping children. Damian is curled up a corner, head pillowed against what looks like a shaved coconut, and Cassandra is tucked on top of a cabinet, back pressed to the wall. Dick and Tim have staked out the sole sofa in the room, and while they both would never accept it as gospel truth, they’re both snoring lightly with their heads tipped back. Stephanie’s face is unseeable, sleeping sitting up in a hard plastic chair with her mane of hair covering most of her face.

It’s a picture of chaotic peace.

“Hello, Jason,” he calls to the son he can’t see.

Right on cue, there’s the sound of boots trying to be somewhat quiet on concrete, and Jason appears from behind him. “How’d you figure I hadn’t just abandoned you?”

Bruce shrugs. “I didn’t. I just hoped.” He cranes his neck to try and look back at Jason, but it tugs on his ribs something awful. He gives up, and goes back to trying to keep them talking. “Nothing short of sedation would have everyone here asleep at the same time. I assume Alfred had a hand in this?”

“You’d guess right.” Jason appears and hops up onto the bed, crowding Bruce in the narrow space. “You’ve been out cold for three days now, and Alfred dosed up their pancakes but good this morning. Cass is just taking a nap, though, and you know me, I need a hell of a lot more ‘n that to take me out.”

Bruce does in fact know. It’s alarming that Jason is immune to any of Alfred’s numerous League-sourced concoctions. At least part of them are magic, because half of the people in this room have gone through training so brutal they’re immune to most Earthly interventions.

Jason’s got one up on everyone there. The Lazarus Pit gives a random assortment of questionable gifts along with life, it appears. At least he got to enjoy the pancakes.

“How are things in Havana?”

“Tim and Dick went in and shut it all down. Apparently Nightwing’s got contacts with some higher-ups in the Cuban policing and judiciary system, which I’m gonna assume is because his ass makes him mad popular on LinkedIn, and Orian’s crew got picked up. We cut off the snake’s head.”

Bruce knows Jason well enough to know what’s coming. It’s not going to be anything good, but there’s something there, in having Jason drop this clear of a hint.

“And Orian?”

Jason just grins at him, a vision in a leather jacket over a fluorescent orange t-shirt that just says Morón , paired with weathered grey leggings. He looks vicious and unstoppably kind. “Like I said. Snake’s head got cut off.”

Bruce shuts his eyes, and breathes. It’s that formula, yes, about income disparity and the misuse of a position of power, preying on the goodwill of people too good to get out of the way.

Orian was a snake, and if it were up to Bruce, all of his men would have been put down too, so.

Bruce groans, and massages his closed eyes to stave off a headache. “I really wish I had a hollowed-out pineapple full of something really alcoholic, right now.”

The tension that had held Jason taut and ready for a fight upon his admission of casual murder disperses, quietly and all of a sudden, and it’s so palpable Bruce wants to groan again.

“See, I had a think about that, and I have some ideas,” Jason tells him, and even without looking Bruce knows what that toothy grin looks like. There’s the warm weight of a hand resting just ever so gently on his hip, there is quite possibly a lot of affection in the air.

He finds himself smiling right back, and it’s a good, good feeling.

(And that is how the whole family ends up joining Bruce on a weeklong holiday in the Bahamas, with long, sundrenched days on the beach and some quality parkour in Cuba in the nights.

Bruce gets three straight days of everyone in the family razzing him for being the only of them, Alfred’s lily-white ass included, to have gotten legitimately, hideously sunburned.)

(It’s the best vacation he’s had in entire lifetimes.)

A/N: On God there is nothing I like better than a bit too much depressing introspection clad in bright patterns somewhere warm and humid aaaah.

Also this is not explicitly stated anywhere but 100% all the kids have to wear Black Bat style masks with built in respirators, and everyone’s got fanny packs filled with testing kits so that they can drop them around like candy.

This is how proactive vigilanteism stopped an epidemic from KO-ing asylums and penitentiaries in Gotham you heard it here first.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #charity commission #despite the s in the name #i hadn't realised until i was doing this that #the bahamas were more than one island #hope y'all enjoy the topical sprinkling of covid-19 lore #sure looking forward to when mankind buries these important lessons #under capitalism come urgh june or something #whale writing

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