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catxsnow · 4 years

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MOTHER DOESN’T KNOW BEST D.W.

Request: Would it be possible to request a Damian one shot abt him protecting you from Talia? Like she dosent like you at all so she tries to either kill you or manipulate you into breaking up with Damian.

Warning: Violence, angst, Talia being a b i t c h, mentions of blood.

A/N: Take two people. Never trusting mobile to post ever again. Anyways, I hope you enjoy rather than getting just the title lol

Word Count: 4.1k

Damian didn't like Gotham at first. It was cold, gross, the city was filled with those who didn't understand the greatness outside of the city walls. He hated being away from his mother and grandfather, as well as the strict rule that his father had given him. He was no prince there, he was nothing but a rich man's son.

It seemed at first that Bruce was doing everything in his power to suppress everything that Damian grew up with. No killing, no servants, even hiding him in the shadows with the assumption that his mother was going to take him back. It made Damian feel like this was never meant to be his home.

Even when moving to the Titan Tower, he still didn't feel at home. The people there were childish, irresponsible, he didn't fit in there as well. He didn't fit in anywhere until he met you.

You had joined the Teen Titans just a week after Damian had arrived. A broken upbringing with nothing but your mentors trying to get you to succeed where they never could. You had skills, too many not to put them to use. So, when Kori found you, she welcomed you with open arms - a home that would treat you right.

Much like Damian, you were cold and cut off. Maybe that was what attracted him to you, or maybe it was your skills that put him up for a challenge. Either way, Damian felt flustered around you and he hated it. Lucky for him, you were much the same way.

One long night of sparring with him - an endless battle that neither of you would admit defeat - you had finally broke him down. Damian had you pinned, and as much as he didn't want to let his guard down, he couldn't stop himself from leaning in to kiss you. He never acted like this, like a hormonal teenage boy.

Late night patrols, early morning training, as many hours throughout the day you would spend together. Your teammates - Beast Boy in particular - continuously felt left out whenever you and Damian were together. Only Dick was happy to see that the two of you were spending so much time together.

You were good for Damian. He was less harsh, more willing to accept others, hell he even said thank you more often. It wasn't like you had meant to change him - he just thrived to be a better person because of you. You were everything to him.

When years passed and it was time came for him to move back to Gotham, you had come with him. Damian wouldn't dare to leave you again. Not when he swore that he found - as many would say - his soulmate. You loved Damian, more than anyone ever had his whole life. The feeling for him was new, but he couldn't get enough of it.

It was the first time you were in Gotham. Just like the rumors, the city was horrifying. Crime was everywhere, people dying in the streets, you didn't know how Damian lived there for so long. This wasn't your home, but Damian was. Wherever he wanted to go, you were there with him.

Damian grabbed your hand from across the seat. He was you worried as you looked out the windows. Bruce's home was far nicer than anything you had seen so far, but the drive was still far enough away. You smiled as Damian kissed the back of your hand, a small gesture that made your heart flutter every time.

"You could have stayed, I would have come visit you often," Damian offered to you. A joking smile was on his face. He knew damn well that you weren't going to just stay with the Titans when he was across the country. You loved him too much to have that distance.

"Damian Wayne, if you think I'm gonna let you out of my sight you're mistaken," you half joked. Of course you trusted him with every fiber of your being, but you also knew how damn reckless he was. Bruce would have his back, but he needed a partner, not a leader. "Besides I know you don't sleep well at night."

Damian rolled his eyes. He had told you once that he slept better with you in his arms and you hadn't let him live it down since. You meant this in the best way, you loved to be the reason that Damian felt at peace. However, being in this city, you weren't sure how much peace you would have.

The gates of the Manor finally pulled into sight. You couldn't get over how massive his home was. Damian squeezed your hand as your mouth dropped in shock. You knew how rich Bruce Wayne was, but this? This was crazy. His home was larger than any home that you had ever seen.

Damian's excitement for you quickly changed. Instead of the empty drive way that he had expected, a singular person stood by the door. You watched as his nerves grew tense. It was a woman, dark skin and long hair. She stood as if she expected the world to bow at her feet.

"What's wrong?"

"My mother." You suddenly understood why he was so worried. Damian's mother was cruel, unloving, and only craved power. It had been years since she had dropped Damian off in Gotham and the same amount of time since he had seen her last. Whatever Talia was here for, it couldn't have been good.

The car barely stopped before Damian jumped out. His fists were tight at his sides as he approached his mother. Although you were sure he wished for you to stay in the car, you couldn't just wait. Talia looked less than pleased to see you stepping out of the same vehicle as her son.

Damian joined his mother's gaze. The grim look on his face softened as he saw you. As much as he didn't want you meeting his mother, he was glad that you were there to support him. Unlike usual, he didn't grab your hand, nor did you make the move to. Talia was not the kind of lady you wanted to make a bad first impression on.

It didn't seem to matter though. You hadn't said, or done anything, and she was already glaring at you. To her surprise, you only shot her the same look back. Bad impression or not, you were going to stand up for yourself. Damian would keep you safe, even if it was against his own mother.

"Who is this, Damian?" She asked. Talia acted as if you weren't even there. Damian had told you about her, but you never expected her to be this bad within the first five minutes of meeting her. Moving to Gotham, you were worried enough about meeting Bruce without his cape and cowl, you didn't think you would have to see her as well.

"This is (Y/N)," Damian told her. "A valued teammate, as well as... my beloved," he confessed while grabbing onto your hand for the first time since leaving the car. Talia's eyes narrowed at you - of course she had known everything about you. She kept eyes on Damian, and when you popped up, she learned everything there was to know.

Which meant that she already knew of your relationship. And, if you were to guess correctly, she knew of your departure to Gotham alongside her son. The whole reason she was in Gotham was to see you, or more so to analyze you. Damian should have been with royal blood, not a street scum like you.

"I want you to come home, Damian," Talia suddenly announced. While you only looked up in shock, Damian's face hardened. This was so like her - the second that he was happy and finally feeling at home she had to come in and ruin it. This time, he wouldn't allow it. She didn't control him anymore, no one did. Not even Bruce.

"No," he disagreed. His grip on your hand tightened - whether in frustration or a reminder that you were there - you weren't sure. "I am home. Gotham, the Titans, with (Y/N), this is my home now. I'm not leaving here, not now, not ever. Father is my legal guardian now, not you. You made sure of that when you left me stranded here."

"Damian you belong with me, you belong in the League," Talia's voice was tight. She was obviously trying not to take him by force, not while you were there. Damian was her son, and she would get him back by any means necessary. "Take your grandfather's place, this was what you were meant to do."

"I meant to be Robin," Damian argued. He had done great things under his new alias. So many lives saved, he had learned so much from being there. He learned from Bruce, Dick, his friends, you. He learned so much from you - he learned to love, not to fight. "I'm staying."

"I think it's time for you to go," You spoke up for the first time. If Talia's looks could kill, you would have been dead ten times over. No one ever talked back to her like that, and for someone as lowly as you? She couldn't accept it. If it wasn't for Damian stepping between the two of you, you swore that she would have made an attempt on your life right there.

Without another word, Talia left the Manor. You didn't realize how tight your grip on Damian was until he placed his other hand over yours. You loosened your hold, and as soon as his mother was out of sight, collapsed into his arms. Damian held you tight, though he wasn't sure if it was for your assurance or his.

"It's okay, my love," Damian whispered. He kissed the top of your head, your forehead, and finally your lips. "She won't be an issue for us, not while we're with my father."

"I trust you, Damian. Always."

It had been weeks since you were in Gotham. Bruce had taken you under his wing for the time being. Damian was protective of you as always, he wouldn't let you leave without him. To be honest you were happy that he was at you side. Gotham wasn't the kind of place you wanted to venture on your own.

It was different without your teammates watching you back. You only had Damian to have your six and sometimes that lead to some close calls. In the end, he always kept you safe. No matter the situation, he would protect you at all costs.

On that cold night, Damian had gone out with his father, leaving you home alone. Your wrist ached from your previous night, and although you promised that you were fine to go out, Damian insisted that you stayed in. So, with your wrist wrapped and a movie playing, you felt more relaxed than you had in weeks.

Damian left you that evening with a firm kiss and a promise that he would be back before you knew it. As always, you melted into his hold, never wanting to let him leave you. He left with promises to you of making up for it in anyway he could. Damian just wanted you happy while he was home.

He thrived every day to see you smile. Seeing you happy was the only thing that he cared about anymore. So, seeing your pout as he hopped into the Batmobile beside his father nearly convinced him to stay with you. Alfred was gone for the night which meant that you would be truly alone for the first time since you had joined the Titans. The silence would be tranquil.

Unfortunately for you, that peace didn't last long.

After training to be a hero your whole life, you could feel when someone was sneaking up on you. At first, you assumed it to be a robbery; Bruce was rich. But as Batman? His security was near impossible to get into. Whoever this was, they were good. Really good. Your phone buzzed beside you, but you didn't have the time to check what it was.

The blade of a sword sliced through the air, narrowly missing you. You had been just quick enough to roll out of the way. The intruder wore a mask covering the lower half of their face, but you had known instantly who this was. Talia Al Ghul.

You assumed she had come alone. If she saw you as nothing but a low-life hero from the streets, then she assumed that she could handle you by herself. Truth be told, you had never gone against someone as skilled as her, she could easily handle you on your own, especially with your weakened wrist.

You ran through the room and towards the kitchen. It was far closer than the entrance of the cave - and you were sure that she knew where it was as well. Talia ran after you. She ducked the second she ran into the kitchen - you had thrown the closest frying pan towards her head. Thankfully it distracted her enough to grab some sort of weapon - a knife.

It was much shorter than her sword and it felt awkward in your opposite hand. You hoped that Damian and Bruce were already on their way back, that it was him texting you earlier, but you knew not to get your hopes up. Alfred was gone for the night and you were truly alone in the house.

Talia twirled the blade around before lunging at you. She did attack after attack, each one barely being blocked by your knife. You needed to get to the cave, at least then you stood a chance with some actual weapons. Unfortunately, you weren't quick enough to block her next shot.

Talia's sword sliced through your shirt and into your arm. Blood soaked your skin as you cried out in pain. You knew that she didn't like you, but to go as far as to assassinate you within her son's home? That was pushing far past being a terrible mother.

Glass shattered as you ducked from her next shot. The lights above you sparked as she broke though them. The room had become pitch black and you only hoped to use that as an advantage. You knew this house far better than she did.

As long as you could get a head start to the cave, you would be fine. Silently, you slipped past her, hoping to avoid the crunch of broken glass on the floor. Talia was a trained assassin, sneaking around her would be impossible - and it was. The second she heard your footsteps, she had blindly attacked.

The tip of her sword nicked your cheek, but it was enough to let her know exactly where you were. Without caution anymore, you ran full speed to the entrance of the cave. Thankfully, you had made it before her.

You grabbed the first weapon you could see - Damian's backup sword. It felt heavy in your opposite hand, but as soon as you tried to hold it in your dominant, you nearly cried out in pain. Damian was right, you were too hurt to go out that night; then again maybe it would have been safer if you had. Talia must have been waiting for the opportunity that you were alone.

Talia stood before you, her mask still up. "What's wrong, Talia?" You asked, her eyes narrowed as you said her name. "Jealous that your son loves me more than you? Or maybe that Bruce cares for me more than he did you? This isn't about Damian not coming home, this is more personal than that, isn't it?"

"Damian belongs with royalty," Talia ripped off her mask. You knew that you were riling her up, but you only hoped that it would waste enough time for Damian to come, if he was coming. This was a fight you could not win alone, you knew that. "You're nothing but filth off the streets."

"So what, you're gonna kill me?" You backed away from her. Your heart rate was erratic from fear. Damian was a damn good fighter, but his mother? She was deadly. "How're you going to explain that one to him? How do you think he's going to react when he finds out that you killed the person he loves? He'll never want to see you again."

"He's never going to know it was me!" Talia raised her voice. She charged towards you, bringing her weapon down towards you. You just barely blocked it. The sword was extremely uncomfortable in your hold but you it was far better than a measly kitchen knife. She could tell you were weak from it.

Talia pushed down harder, the edge of her sword coming dangerously close to your face. In the blink of an eye, she pulled away and grabbed your weakened wrist. Talia slammed it into her knee, making you scream in agony. You dropped your weapon to grab your now broken wrist, falling right into her palm of her hands.

A forceful kick was placed against your ribs, knocking you down and making you completely at her mercy. Your body screamed in unbearable pain. Blood soaked your clothes, your bones broken or cracked. Talia had taken you down in a mere matter of minutes. You never stood a chance against someone like her.

To your surprise, Talia dropped her sword as well. There was no way that she had suddenly changed her mind or decided to give up, she had you right where she wanted you. The smirk on her face, knowing that she had defeated you so easily, was etched into your brain. Whatever she was planning, she had already won.

Talia pulled out the gun strapped to her thigh. You hadn't even noticed it until this moment. There was no way that you would ever dodge a bullet, not at this range. With a last chance of hope, you reached out for you sword once more - but she was too quick. A bullet shot rang out as it bounced off the floor inched from your hand.

You retracted back to your place, looking up at her with a grim look. There was no chance you were about to plead for you life. Talia had the gun pointed directly at your forehead. "You'll never have my son."

"Neither will you." Blood dripped down your face. You gripped onto your wrist, and tried to steady your breathing. You refused to look away from Talia's murderous eyes. Death awaited you - that was something you had to accept. Talia had no mercy.

Suddenly, a light blinded Talia's face. Her gaze was averted, but that wasn't what caused you to falter. A loud shot echoed through the cave, followed by a searing pain. In her brief moment of loss of attention, Talia had pulled the trigger. She had missed her hopeful target, instead the bullet and pierced your shoulder, creating a sickening crack as it went through bone.

"NO!" You knew this to be Damian's voice. He hovered above you, panic written all over. His hands pressed into your wounds to try and stop the bleeding. He could hear the battle of his mother and father but all that mattered was you. He was petrified for you. Your eyes wavered, wanting so desperately to fall asleep.

"You're going to be okay. I promise, stay with me. Beloved, you're gonna be fine. Stay awake, please. Please I need you. I need you to stay with me." He was the last thing you saw as darkness clouded over you.

Talia had done a lot of damage to you. The cut on your arm, and your cheek needed stitched. Your collar bone practically shattered and you would need to wear a brace for months before it was healed. The wrist she had snapped would heal like any other broken wrist would. Cracked ribs and a broken ego. You were benched for a long time to come.

Damian wouldn't leave you side. He was there if you needed anything or if you were in pain. Guilt clouded him, he should have known that his mother would do something like this. He was a fool to leave you alone like that. Never again.

"Be careful, beloved."

You liked the attention from him. Damian was at your side more than he ever was before. In private, he was constantly covering you in kisses. He showed a side of himself that you or anyone else had never seen before. It was nice to see him so... normal.

Damian spent every spare moment with you. Whether it was helping you with simple tasks that you were yet to be able to accomplish or be there to give you a kiss when you were feeling down. The last thing he wanted to see was for you to fall into a funk because of his mother. He tried his best to keep your spirits up but this was hard. Harder than anything you had done.

Years of being the one to save people and now you were the one that needed to be saved. It was unbearable. You hated the feeling of constantly needing help. Damian made sure to not suffocate you, he knew what it was like to hate feeling pitied.

Evenings were spent trying to get you back on your feet. Nights spent with Alfred, watching of your boyfriend and his father. Damian coming home to smoother you with attention the second that you were alone in his room. That was your favourite part of the days.

Everyone hoped your recovery to be speedy - even your teammates went out of their way to visit you. It was nice to see all your friends together again, as well as the rest of Damian's family that you had finally met. It seemed that everyone had gained a vendetta against Talia that night.

"Damian, I can do this, you just have to give me some space."

When you finally got the cast on your wrist off, you had gone straight back into training. Much to Damian's dismay - as well as your doctor's. The sling was still on your shoulder, and would be for several more weeks. However, you were tired of sitting around like this. You felt weak from the lack of training.

Damian watched as you stood under the pull up bar. You eyed it, curious as to if you really could do this or not. In one swift motion, you jumped up and grabbed the bar with your single hand. Holding yourself up wasn't the issue, it was a matter of if you could pull yourself up with only one hand like you used to.

With all the strength you could muster, you attempted to do a chin up. You had almost made it before your arm gave out on you. Your hand slipped from the bar and you barely landed on both feet. Damian was by your side in a second, though he could see how frustrated you were at this. He understood not being able to achieve what he wanted most.

"You don't have to prove your strength to me, beloved," Damian assured. He cupped your cheeks with both hands, pulling you in for a quick kiss. However, as the pad of this thumb swiped across the scar that his mother left he frowned. Even after all this time he still blamed himself of this.

"And you don't have to feel guilty for what happened," You countered. You placed your palm over top of his a small smile on your lips. "You came and saved me, that's what matters. Like you, Bruce, everyone, said, I'll get back to where I was eventually. Things like this happen, I can't let it stop me."

"You're too brave," Damian shook his head. Always pushing your limits, defying your odds. As much as he admired it, he wished that you wouldn't. Damian wanted you safe, and sometimes he questioned if that was ever going to be found while you were with him. However, he wasn't willing to lose you to test it. You were by his side, always.

"I learned it from you, my love."

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne oneshot #damian wayne x reader #older!damian #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #dc imagine #dc one shot #dc #robin #robin imagine

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missbrunettebarbie · 3 years

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I was tagged by both @laufire and @nectargrapes Thank u! ^-^

The Game: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some authors!

I hope published story count, otherwise this is gonna be waaaay too short. And, well, I want publicity.

1. The full moon looked regal and lonely on the clear sky, an all seeing-eye that had been worn down by the horrors of the world below. Its warm yellow glow was sickly in Laura's eyes. The young girl felt just as old and tired as the celestial orb that had guarded humanity since the begining of time. (Untitled Filial Revenge WIP with vampires, because why not)

2. The social worker squeezed the child’s shoulder in reassurance. It didn’t work, but Lana White has worked for CPS for long enough to know that the kind of damage done to a child the Williams case presented could only be undo in years and with the help of a lot of people. ( Untitled Kyle/Paige, Charmed fanfic)

3. Nefele’s night would have been perfect if the room wasn’t so hot and crowdie. One would think the Stellarion’s family ball would be a more exclusive affair, but the list of guests had been bigger than she had expected. (Vanitas Vanitatum, original story)

4. The Priscilla Calabria Academy of Magic, or the Academy as it was known in most of Italy (unique in its power and prestige) was as imposing as one would expect from the bastion of knowledge that had not only survived centuries, but also thrived across the centuries. Even in the days when magic was almost banished, the clergy disliking and fearing the witches and warlocks that gained more and more power every day, the Academy had endured only to come out of the struggle as one of the most sought after magic schools in all of Europe. (Pandora's Key, original story)

5. The snow was cold under her knees, but it did nothing to put out the fire in the young mother's heart. (Untitled Pandora's Key Prequel, original story)

6. Everyone told her how lucky she was for surviving her fall, but she truly felt lucky when they told her that her fiancé died three moons after. While Viserra was still waiting for her cracked ribs and broken leg to heal, the elderly Lord Manderly died of a chill. (After the dust, before the snow; Viserra Targaryen lives ASOIAF fanfic on AO3)

7. Caroline Forbes considered herself a pretty open-minded person. Yet when her stoic father told her, with a straight face, that vampires are real and he, himself, is a vampire hunter, she should be forgiven for bursting out laughing. She had lived with Bill Forbes since her parents had gotten divorced a few years ago, and she had never thought him capable of cracking a joke. (We burn with holy fire; Klaroline TVD fanfic on AO3).

8. Zatanna really shouldn’t be here. She really, really shouldn’t. After all Batman himself had forbidden her, Conner and M’Gann from going to their school field trip in Gotham. In her defense, she would have listened to him if he had given her an actual reason, not just “Too dangerous”. (We'll laugh about this one day; Zatanna/Dick Young Justice fanfic on AOS)

9. Klaus wanted to kill someone, slowly and painfully, and all because of the news he got. And he would have killed the messenger if said messenger wasn’t the enchanting Caroline Forbes, headmistress of the Salvatore School for the Young and Gifted, and the object oh his affection for a decade and a half right now. (Everything I want, all at once; Klaus-Hope TVD fanfic on AO3)

10. Garfield is not afraid. He is a superhero turned tv star, fear is not something he feels easily. Yet, when he looks in those big blue trusting eyes, a similar emotion rises in the put of his stomach. (One of a kind; Garfield Logan Young Justice fanfic on AO3)

11. It was a rare sight to see Albus Dumbledore going into shock. The defeater of Grindelwand, Master of the Elder Wand, Supreme Mugwamp, Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts was a hard person to surprise. Yet, right now he look like he might have a heart attack. (Your heart's desire; Regulus/Lily HP fanfic on AO3)

12. Lizzie’s head hurt. Tears were pouring down her face while the genie’s voice still echoed in her ears. (Worlds apart; Lizzie + Klaroline fanfic on AO3)

13. Corlys Velaryon was many things: a lord, a husband, a father, a sailor, a warrior, but he was no coward. Until now. (The dragons of Driftmark; pre-canon ASOIAF fanfic on AO3)

14. Caroline felt the air leave her lungs. Alaric was dead. Dead. Killed by the Heretics because of one of Damon's stupid plans. And now the children she carried had no one in this world. No one but her. (Smile, tomorrow will be better; Klaroline TVD fic on ff.net)

15. The first thing Caroline noticed when she woke up was that the bed was too soft. She kept her eyes shut and tried to inhale the Virginia Air, but the only thing she felt was a sweet and intoxicating smell that reminded her of hotel rooms. (First meeting (second time) Klaroline TVD fanfic on ff.net- also my first fic ever, so not very good)

Patterns: I think I like to start with an insight into the character's head and go from there. I also care about the setting, the mood etc. more if it's an original story then if it's fanfiction.

Favourites: Well, 1 because it's the newest. Laura is to blame for its existence and it shows: the main character is named after her . 5 also has a special place in my heart. From the fanfics, I really like 7 and 11.

Idk who is and isn't a writer anymore, so: @donnas-troia @legendsofamultishipper @mydaylight @writingonesdreams @awinterrain @the-phoenix-heart @dragonsaredorks @xxlionheartedgirlxx and anyone who wants, really.

#writing #my thoughts #fanfiction #original writing

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hysteriium · 5 years

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The Irony of Fate [2]

Gif not mine!

(A/N): Uhhh this gif kills me holy fuck LOOK AT HIM- UGH. OK, SORRY this took so long lmao, my writing has honestly been so slow lately. I’m trying to fix that but idk I guess it’s a work in process. ALSO!!!! I’m so GRATEFUL for y’all! You’ve all been so kind and supportive with the series, I honestly thought I was going to be swamped with hate! I’m really glad you’re all enjoying it, and love Arthur as much as I do. It’s really made me feel better about my shitty writing. So without further ado, I’ll let you read. Sorry for the monster essay!

Summary: Arthur hated his life. That was no secret. He could pull out a list of the reasons why if someone had to ask. Perhaps he had pissed off fate really badly, a time he couldn’t seem to recall. Or perhaps, not that he believed in it, in a past life he had behaved so reprehensively that he was cursed for the entirety of his reincarnated existence. At this point, anything would make more sense than his continual bad luck - make more sense than his life. Was he doomed to be miserable for the rest of his time on earth? Or would the woman he spotted from his window instigate a rapid spiral of change?

Word Count: 3,400

Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Reader

Warnings: None!

!! SPOILERS FOR ANYONE WHO HASN’T WATCHED THE MOVIE !!

Anxiety coursed through (Y/n) like a turbulent storm, its rage coursing throughout her body, numbing her fingertips. Her mouth was abnormally dry and her attempts at swallowing - to try and lessen the prominence of the drought within, were all in vain. Counting down the seconds in her head silently, her jaw ticked. Large multicoloured drapes burned into her eyes, their bright colours harsh if looked at for too long. As she stood behind them, backstage, the familiar, upbeat music filled her ears, a tune she had known since teenagehood. In person, the arrangement of instruments beyond the curtains sounded different. It was raw. Loud. Unfiltered. The difference was something she found she prefered, it’s authenticity shining through.

Despite the nostalgia, and the thrill of her dreams coming true, the song was hardly comforting, adding to the growing nausea in her stomach. Solidifying the presence of the knot within.

The fact she was there was surreal.

The crowd, in response to the anthem, went wild, clapping on cue, along with the song.

“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen!” Murray shouted. His renowned dance moves, which had him swinging to the beat, were perfectly timed.

Although (Y/n) was shrouded by the massive curtains in front of her, she could practically hear the smirk on his face. Sickly sweet and, dare she say, sickly fake. While she was eternally grateful to be where she was, the disingenuity unsettled her. It rubbed her the wrong way.

Good ratings meant more money, and more money meant fewer problems.

“Now, tonight, we’ve got an extra special guest,” he said.

(Y/n) swallowed.

She felt her fingers twitch in anticipation while the majority of the public oohed at Murray’s news.

“She’s a gorgeous woman…” a handful whistled, earning a soft chuckle from the host, “though I must say, she has an even lovelier voice.”

“It’s quite funny actually, I met her on the street the other day. I was blown away when I first heard her performing. And...I usually don’t do this, but I just had to have her on the show. You all know how much I love talent.”

“However, there was just one thing that left me confused. I asked her, ‘why on the streets?’” Murray gave a quizzical look, “with such a gift, you’d expect her to be in the clubs!”

“She shrugged her shoulders and told me, ‘you gotta start somewhere’.”

“Now while I respect that, starting from humble beginnings and all, I told her, ‘honey with a face like that, you don’t gotta go around singing on the streets for money,’ if you know what I mean.”

The spectators laughed, and (Y/n) rolled her eyes in response. Suddenly, she was glad she was hidden. She wouldn’t want her annoyed expression to give the wrong impression. She didn’t want to be labelled. The last thing she needed was to wake up and read some shitty news article painting her as a ‘diva’ and ‘ungrateful’. Gotham thrived on negativity, so once that was out there, she’d never recover from the defaming blow. Sexist jokes or not, fighting up against one of the most dominant television personalities in Gotham, as well as the media, was a deathwish careerwise.

“Now that’s enough from me, you’re all probably sick of my face. Please welcome, (Y/n)!”

Swiftly, the live band played their tunes, signalling her entrance. Murray directed attention to the infamous curtains, his arms stretching, his fingers wiggling towards the material. Screams of joy echoed off the studio walls.

At the sound, her hands raced to her form-fitting black dress, smoothing out the wrinkles before the curtain opened. When they did, they were slow. A cringe formed its way onto her face as the pully system squeaked along. As ready as she’ll ever be, she cemented a smile, hiding the wince, and walked through the drapes, deciding against waiting.

Feeling a little dramatic, her form hunched over into a bow. A leg darted behind the other, with one hand in front, another resting against her back. Wolf whistles decorated the air at her arrival, though they were promptly replaced with roaring laughter as she made her way towards Murray and planted two firm kisses on both of his cheeks. Eventually, the clacking of her heels signified movement from the older man as she moved to occupy the yellow chair next to Murray’s desk.

Murray made a face after her display of affection, a look although (Y/n) couldn’t see, with his back towards her, she knew it transpired because of the public’s response. She could only imagine the face: one of shock and surprise, or perhaps confidence, as he winked towards them. Either way, both weren’t hard to envision, and the thought made short, distinct, puffs of air release from her nose in amusement.

Shortly, he followed her lead and took a seat behind his table.

“You’ve got some flare kid,” Murray chuckled, and (Y/n) could tell a genuine smile had replaced the false one. A twinge of pride wriggled in her chest at the realisation.

“Are you nervous?” Murray asked suddenly, his eyes flying to the hands in her lap, fidgeting, “you seem nervous.”

She shot the audience a look, her teeth clenched as her eyebrows flew up.

“Yeah,” was all she said, her tone coming out high and unsure.

Laughter.

“You’re already doing great. This your first time on live television?”

The reminder that this was live exacerbated her anxiety, her leg threatening to bounce. The pressure was on; if she screwed up, everyone would remember.

“Pretty much,” a hint of fear wavered her voice, and the laugh that followed was shaky, “this is really surreal.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he flicked his wrist at her, “it’ll be second nature the way you’re headed.”

Her hands flew up to her cheeks, a tinge of pink coating the area while she tittered, “thank you, but I’m not so sure of that.”

“So humble!”

Murray adjusted himself in his chair, his leg crossing over his other. He leaned forward towards the singer, form angled away from the onlookers. His concentration was solely on her.

“So (Y/n), what have you got planned for us tonight?”

A diffident expression crossed the woman’s features as she recalled her song.

“One of my favourites. Put On a Happy Face by Tony Bennett.”

Murray nodded.

“Interesting choice. But, a classic.”

His formerly interlocked hands were thrown into the air, giving a signal to the band. At this, (Y/n) stood up from her seat, and headed towards the already arranged set up towards the end of the stage. Once she arrived, she gripped the cylindrical microphone with both hands, its body supported by a stand. The object was cool against her heated fingertips.

The music started, the funk infectious and the woman’s hips began to sway.

----

Arthur barely held the gasp within him when he gazed upon (Y/n) ’s form, her flattering black dress a spectacle to behold. Her bow, cute and pure, converted the gasp he was restraining into a lovestruck sigh.

He was sold, struck by the arrow of the little rascal Cupid himself.

She looked just as good on TV.

He found it endearing how honest she was, admitting to her nerves. In his eyes, she was genuine, not like the scum that riddled Gotham’s streets; not like those who laughed at him; not like Randall.

Similar to a child who was urgent to take in his favourite cartoon, he moved himself closer to the screen, a meter away at best, as he sat cross-legged. The tickling sensation of excitement shot throughout his slender body.

As the music started playing, the overly happy tune seized him. When the camera panned on (Y/n) ’s walking form, he took in every little detail. The sigh she let out when she reached the microphone. The wobbling of her hands, which she tried to hide by clutching the device. The movement of her throat, suggesting a swallow. The jaw that clicked.

Arthur saw it all.

Then, she started singing.

Gray skies are gonna clear up

Put on a happy face

Brush off the clouds and cheer up

Put on a happy face

The spectators interjected, drowning out a portion of the lyrics as they released sounds of support.

As Arthur leant into his tv screen, he was absolutely convinced nothing could deter his eyes, his hypnosis. Not even the whining of his mum, who had been entirely obstructed from viewing the screen.

He hadn’t even realised she was there, he’d forgotten all about her.

Take off the gloomy mask of tragedy

It’s not your style

You’ll look so good that you’ll be glad

You decide to smile

Arthur wished he was there in the room with (Y/n). In the crowd. To see her pretty (e/c) eyes glance over him and shoot him a wink. Or perhaps a smile. Anything - like the acknowledgement she gave him days prior. Just something to know that he really existed. That he wasn’t riding through life like a doormat - invisible, stepped on, beaten up and chucked around. No one really noticed the object, nor cared to, as it dejectedly rested below the door. Day after day.

Pick out a pleasant outlook

Stick out that noble chin

Wipe off that “full of doubt” look

Slap on a happy grin

Arthur began to grin when she saw her nerves were starting to leave her. Oh, how badly he wanted to applaud her. Encourage her.

And spread sunshine all over the place

And put on a happy face

One hand released the microphone, moving to her face as she traced the outline of her upturned lips, a short, accidental giggle slipping out. It made Arthur’s heart swell!

The band complemented her style perfectly. Their contrasting deep voices were melodic as they harmonised with her humming.

Gray skies are gonna clear up

Put on a happy face

Brush off the clouds and cheer up

Put on a happy face

Arthur found his form lightly swaying to the tune, his grin extending from ear to ear, impossibly deeper.

She was really into it now, and he could tell she could feel the music rushing through her, now a conduit for the art. When he saw the confidence which had manifested, growing with each passing second, his mind swarmed with joy, his mind conjuring a bundle of soothing words he noiselessly projected through the cubic barrier before them - to her.

And if you’re feeling cross and bickerish

Don’t sit and whine

Think of banana splits and licorice

And you’ll feel fine

She disconnected the microphone from the stand, bringing it under her chin. Quickly she departed from her spot with a small spin, strutting across the rest of the stage - something that got the fans rowdy; wooing. Her body swung to the beat, shoulders moving with her.

I knew a girl so gloomy

She’d never laugh or sing

She wouldn’t listen to me

Now she’s a mean old thing

Now incredibly expressive - antithetical from when she first began - she accompanied her singing by miming the lyrics. A fist rocked below her eyes imitating tears in a burlesque manner, and a fake frown contorted her features. Though, no matter how sad she pretended to be, Arthur knew just by the twinkle in her eyes that she was bursting with happiness.

So spread sunshine all over the place

And put on a happy, happy face

Put on a happy, happy, happy face

During the final verse, she had moved closer to the camera, dragging out the closing note with a high.

Oh, come on bubby, smile, it’s your birthday!

She made direct eye contact with the lens and winked.

Arthur’s chest tightened at the action, and he couldn’t help but take it personally; as if the playful act was directly meant to be for him. Him and only him.

Applause nearly deafened Arthur as it reverberated around the room, projecting shockingly loud for such a small device. Scrambling, his hands tried to lower the volume. Unfortunately, in his rush, his clumsy hands instead knocked up against another button, changing the channel entirely in the process.

Regrettably for Arthur, the noise emitted only worsened. Although the tv was no longer on the Murray Franklin show, it was now on a channel playing an old war movie. Explosions and the earthshaking noises of artillery filled his crappy apartment, gunfire jolting his poor, unexpecting form. Letting out his shock with a shout, and a string of curses, his hands automatically moved to cover his ears - a reaction he midway stopped; gaining some control, he felt the device vibrate beneath his fingertips when they finally discovered the volume button. When he had readjusted the strength, he returned back to the station, free from the clamour, the show now on commercial break.

He sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

Why was he so fucking clumsy?

Even the smallest things he couldn’t seem to get right.

Gentle snoring shifted his awareness from his self-deprecating mental exchange, and when he looked over to the noise, he saw his mother asleep in her chair. Her head was tilted against her shoulder, her mouth open. It was a sight that made him laugh through his nose; something that managed to halt the negativity which began to swarm in his mind, like a vicious cloud of hornets.

Arthur didn’t know how his mother could one minute be the lightest sleeper on earth, then the next, swing to the other extreme. It was a miracle she slept through his fuck up, but then again, if she were in a deep sleep, he was confident enough to bet she’d sleep through a natural disaster.

It was honestly impressive.

Emitting a soft groan as his palms pushed himself up from his sitting position, he trailed from one end of his apartment to the other. He opened one of the squeaking cabinets near the bathroom, the small storage space containing miscellaneous items. Though, it mostly harboured their modest collection of towels and blankets. As his eyes skimmed the shelves, from top to bottom, they soon fell onto what he was searching for. On the very bottom, his hands gripped onto an old quilt. It was soft to touch, though when he moved to collect it, he felt small pricks against his flesh as his arms maneuvered to fit its length.

Feathers.

The floral pattern, which was a chaotic blend of reds, pinks, whites and cremes was gaudy and straining to look at. Arthur guessed it was a victorian design, and it was quite apparent that it was a style he wasn’t fond of. He didn’t think he ever understood the things his mother liked. It was definitely a selective taste.

Shaking away his absentmindedness, and the staredown he was giving the blanket in his hand, he moved back to the living room, rounding behind his mother’s chair as he gently placed the cover against her. She was still snoring, some of them morphing into snorts. He honestly did try to contain his giggling, but most of it slipped out. To try and lessen the ache in her neck she was bound to wake up with tomorrow, he lastly righted her position.

The upbeat music coming from the tv began again, letting Arthur know his favourite show had returned. Hurried, his lips pressed up against his sleeping mother’s forehead before returning back to his spot in front of the tube.

“Welcome back, everyone! If you’re just tuning in, we have the lovely (Y/n) with us.”

For what was probably the 100th time, the crowd responded to Murray, who was sitting back at his desk, gaze set towards the camera.

“And I’ve got good news for you, kid!”

(Y/n) looked up at the host from her chair, eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you-”

Murray interrupted.

“I’ve set you up with a few clubs. We can’t let talent like yours go on without reward, it would be a disservice. On behalf of Gotham city, I think we can all agree we need some joy in these troubling times, and your presence just seems to radiate it.”

(Y/n) was evidently stunned. Suddenly, to her, some of his awful jokes had been worth it.

“This isn’t a prank, right?” she turned to the audience, eyes expanded wholly making the audience explode into chuckles. Arthur found himself joining in.

“I assure you lovely, we wouldn’t do that to ya.”

“Your first gigs gonna be at Pogo’s comedy club. And yes, although it is a comedy club, they’ve made an exception. It’s best to start small and work your way up into the bigger names.”

Arthur’s chest constricted.

He went there all the time!

He could see her perform!

Talk to her!

Finally have the chance to introduce himse-

“So what do you say, darling?” Murray piped up, his eyes giving her an encouraging glance.

Arthur leaned forward, nose about to touch the screen in anticipation.

Her hands found her cheeks as she tried to conceal the spreading heat. Even in darkness, she was convinced the crimson flush would be bright enough to light up the room. While Murray had said a few off comments here and there, things she didn’t agree with, he truly had been welcoming to her. She thought maybe, just maybe, she had been too harsh on him.

“I-I don’t know what to say?!”

Please say yes - please say yes - please say yes.

“You could say, yes?” Murray shot her a playful look.

The woman finally nodded, adrenaline and joy manipulating her quaking frame, “yes! Yes! Thank you so much!”

Arthur’s fists shook in the air, a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding, released.

(Y/n) got up from her seat, shooting up like a rocket as she made her way behind Murray’s desk. He followed her actions and removed himself from his chair, and accepted the hug she pulled him into with a ‘whoa’.

“Well, there you have it, folks! Pogo’s, Friday night, at seven. Be there or be square!”

With a little whisper to (Y/n), she was sent off, back to the area with the microphone.

“Goodnight, tune in next time, and always remember-”

Instantly, the legendary keyboard tune started playing, and (Y/n) prepared herself to sing once more.

“-that’s life!” Arthur mimicked.

For one final performance, the camera panned away from Murray, setting on (Y/n) as the credits rolled. Arthur relished in the sound, the lyrics hitting his very soul.

That’s life (that’s life), that’s what people say

You’re riding high in April, shot down in May

But, I know I’m gonna change that tune

When I’m back on top, back on top in June

I said, that’s life, (that’s life), and as funny as it may seem

Some people get their kicks,

Stompin’ on a dream

But I don’t let it, let it get me down

Cause, this fine old world it keeps spinning around

He sunk into the numbing feeling of the lyrics, forcing himself to close his eyes. He didn’t even realise the song was nearing its end until she reached the final verse.

My, My!

With the expression of dazed euphoria, Arthur opened his eyes, watching her part from the microphone, the credits now over.

“Thank you,” was the only thing she said, her beaming expression the last thing Arthur saw.

The show ended.

Arthur, who was abandoned by the gentle, radiant hue of the cube before him, was consumed by the darkness. It dwelled within the room as the device had been switched off by his lingering hand.

He didn’t know how long he sat in silence for. His mother had finally stopped snoring.

He didn’t want to watch television; didn’t feel like it. He wanted to soak in the episode he’d just witnessed - flick through the memorable moments for the rest of the night.

He wanted to think about what he’d say to (Y/n) when he finally met her officially - he wanted it to be perfect. While the little wave she gave him days ago would have been such an insignificant action to most, it wasn’t to Arthur. It was real.

And the fact that he knew it was, reeled him in like an unsuspecting fish speeding to bait.

Well and truly, Arthur was bewitched.

The sombre air surrounding him - a mood that always seemed to cling to him - and the dim blue hue which encompassed his apartment, strangely didn’t feel so bad for once. Hell, he didn’t feel so bad for once.

With the image of her smile repeating in his head, he didn’t feel so...

Alone.

#arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #joker x reader #joker 2019 #joaquin phoenix joker #x reader #joker imagine #fanfiction series

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catxsnow · 4 years

Text

THE NEW ROBIN D.G.

Summary: You and Dick like to goof off in the batcave sometimes

Warning: fluff

A/N: I was feeling something humorous. Robin!Dick

Word count: 1.6k

You had known Dick a lot of years. In fact, you had known him since his first day at Gotham Academy when you were somehow stuck having to show him around the school. You thought that it was going to be a waste of an hour of your day when in fact, it had been a pivotal point in your life.

Dick Grayson was your best friend, your lover, and your protector.

He was there for you when the bullies at school teased you, he was there for you when you needed affection, and he was there for you when the dark streets of Gotham threatened you. He truly was everything you ever needed and more. Living a life with Dick was full of surprises, adventures, and love.

You had just found out about his secret life of being Robin just a few weeks ago. To be honest, he had no intentions of telling you that early. After working late at the library, you had to head home in the dark with no one but your phone as your companion. As always, you called Dick to keep you company on the walk.

He was out on patrol when you called but with Batman nowhere around, he figured that it was pretty safe to keep you on the line - and thank god he had. Some thug was trying to snatch you and your money - Robin showed up just in time to save you and as soon as you were safe he had brought you in for a kiss.

You were shocked at first but upon getting a close look at him, the way that his lips moved against yours - you knew that this was your boyfriend. He didn't care that he had spoiled his secret, he just cared that you were safe in his arms.

After learning that he was Robin, you spent a lot of time with him in the batcave. You wandering around while he worked out or sat on the chair next to him as he scanned over the computers. No matter what it was that he was doing, you were entranced. You spent a lot more time with him afterwards and he was ecstatic that you were with him all the time.

Watching him train was one of your favourite pass times. You knew of his past at the circus, The Flying Grayson's. He was so graceful as he leaped around, flipping at every chance that he got. You were amazed by his skills and everything that he could do.

However, when he spent hours upon hours looking at a computer screen? That was no where near as exciting. You found different ways to pass the time if you didn't just go home.

That night, you decided to jokingly put on his Robin suit.

You drowned in the material. The mask was the only thing that fit your face. His boots were far too large for your feet and if it wasn't for the tightened belt on the pants, they would have been down at your ankles. The top half was loose on you but you managed to make it work. His cape was ridiculously heavy and you had no idea how he made it look so easy to fly around in.

As quietly as you could, you sneaked up behind your boyfriend. Thankfully, he was too engrossed on the screen to even notice that you were walking behind him. He must have caught your reflection in the monitor because he suddenly jumped and whipped around. Dick looked like he was ready to pounce on you after thinking you were one of his foe's.

As soon as he realized that it was you - evident of your hair first of all - he burst into a fit of laughter. Never in your life had you seen him laugh this hard, his hands were on his knees and you were sure that he was going to fall over from his near-violent cackle.

He managed to catch his breath and look at you again without going into another fit. With the deepest, most monotone voice you could muster, you spoke, "I am the night."

Dick laughed once more. You knew that this was Batman's saying not Robin's, but you couldn't help yourself. Seeing Dick laugh like this was what you thrived for at the moment, it was rare to see him genuinely happy like this.

This time, you burst into a fit of giggles as well. Dick stalked over to you and pulled you into a hug. A kiss was placed on the top of your head as you tightened your grip on him.

"I think you might have to take my spot, you look too adorable in that suit," Dick joked. The fact that it was far too big for you made you look younger - and smaller than you really were.

"You're going to have to start training me then. More time together, we're probably going to have to get super handsy too - just to be thorough. Hot and sweaty alone time..." you continued on. "I think I kind of like this idea."

Dick placed his hands on your hips, though with the layers of the suit you could barely feel them there. "I think you might be on to something," Dick smirked. He tilted his head down so you could kiss him. Even with the suit coming no where near to fitting you properly, you still felt like a total badass.

His eyes sparked up meaning only one thing - he had an idea. Whenever Dick gave you that look it always went one of two ways - really good or really, really bad. There was never an in between with him.

"Wait here," Dick broke away from you. He scurried off out of sight and you giggled at his excitement. You rarely got the chance to goof off with him in the cave but you were glad that Bruce was busy with a Wayne Enterprise event that night. He wouldn't be pleased that you were dressed as his sidekick - not with so many dangerous weapons at your reach that you didn't know how to use.

You wondered where the hell your boyfriend ran off to. Looking around, you couldn't see where he went until all of a sudden a black mass landed right in front of you. Dick had followed your lead and dressed up in Batman's suit. Much like you, he was way too small for it. The cowl was loose on him and he didn't fill out the suit like Bruce.

"I'm Batman," Dick was able to nearly mimic Bruce’s voice. It was your turn to completely laugh at his antics. The two of you looked ridiculous in suits that weren't your own. However, it was nice to let loose with everything going on in the city.

"Looks good on you," You commented, being truthful. You tugged on the loose material so it look a little more fitting on him. Since learning the family secret, you always assumed that Dick would one day fill in his adopted father's shoes as Batman. "Think you'll take up the mantle one day?"

"At one point I did," Dick told you. He pulled the cowl off his head. You did the same with the small mask, playing with it in your hands. "I'm not like Bruce, I don't want my legacy to be in the shadow of his. I want to be something different, be my own person. I've been thinking about it for a while now."

"Wherever you go, Dick Grayson, you know I'm going to be there," you promised. If he wanted to leave the mantle of Robin then you were going to support him no matter what. You put the mask back over your eyes, "I am the better Robin after all."

"You're an idiot," Dick laughed, pecking your lips and grabbing the birdarang that you had pulled out of your belt before you hurt yourself with it. As much as he trusted you with just about anything, he definitely didn’t trust you with a deadly weapon in your hand.

"I'm your idiot though," you laughed. Dick wouldn’t trade anyone else for that spot either, being his idiot was reserved for you and only you. "Batman and Robin, taking over the streets once again. Can I drive the batmobile?"

"I don't think Br-"

"Bruce!" You cut Dick off from speaking - though you said the name he was already planning to say. Your eyes widened as you saw none other than Bruce Wayne standing before the two of you in suits that weren't your own. "Bruce, hi! Uh, we were just, uh, Dick?" You looked to him for help.

Bruce had a tight look on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look pleased that the two of you were joking around. Dick shrugged, he had nothing that would help the either of you in this situation.

Just as you thought that he was going to yell at the two of you, he did something completely unexpected. Bruce smiled. A teeth showing grin that brought more shock to you than figuring out that he was Batman. Bruce shook his head at the two of you and walked away, not bother to figure out what you were doing.

The moment that he was gone you let go of a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Dick seemed to do the same.

"I so thought we were going to get in trouble," you wiped your hand against your forehead which had gained a few beads of sweat.

"I think Bruce likes you more than he's like to admit."

“Maybe he’s just getting tired of seeing just you all the time.”

#dickgrayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson oneshot #young justice #young justice imagine #Robin #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #fluff #bruce wayne #batman #catxsnow writes

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