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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Note

Heeey! Can I request for the Father of Mine universe? Something along the lines of hickeys, maybe smeared lipstick all over their faces at an event, family dinner or something like that?

“Just skip it and stay here with me,” Jason offered as he leaned against the bathroom frame, shirtless and with his arms crossed.

He had been watching Y/N get ready for at least 15 minutes.

She was currently putting on blood red lipstick that went perfectly with her black winged eyeliner.

Jason wasn’t a big lipstick guy – mostly because it prevented him from kissing his girlfriend the way he wanted to. But he couldn’t deny that it looked incredibly sexy.

“I can’t. I promised Bruce,” Y/N explained as she looked at him through the mirror.

“There will always be other charity events,” he answered with a roll of his eyes.

But he’d had enough of keeping his distance and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He started peppering kisses on her shoulders since her dress was leaving the skin completely exposed and he just couldn’t help himself.

“You know,” she began, “you could always come with me.”

Jason stopped his kissing.

“Guess that’s a no?” Y/N sighed with a shy grin.

But she didn’t really care.

Y/N understood that Jason hated these events. To be honest, she might hate them just as much. But Bruce kept asking her and she tried to go when she could. Sometimes she needed breaks and her father understood that.

Jason ignored her question and his hands started roaming heatedly across her body.

“Don’t even think about it,” Y/N warned, immediately pushing him away.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Jason laughed innocently.

“Not yet,” she spun around and pointed at him. “But you were going to!”

“And is that so bad?” He asked with a crooked smirk.

“It is when I’m running late. And the reason I’m late is because you couldn’t keep your hands off of me an hour ago.”

Jason tilted his head and narrowed his eyes playfully. “I didn’t exactly hear any complaints…”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from laughing and shook her head.

No, there had definitely been absolutely no complaints from her.

“I won’t be there long,” Y/N promised.

Then she brushed past him and walked into the giant walk-in closet.

Barely even glancing at all the shoes, she grabbed a pair that matched her dress.

“Can we order pizza or something when I get back? I’ll be starving.” Y/N asked mindlessly as she slipped the shoes on, using the wall to balance herself.

Jason didn’t even realize he was staring.

But how could he not?

The dress was simple. Just a little black dress. It was a charity event after all. But it fit Y/N like a glove, hugging her in all the right places.

Her heels were at least 4 inches, putting her eye level with Jason – if not a tiny bit taller. She would be above the majority of men at the event, except for probably a small handful.

“What?” Y/N asked self consciously. “Too tall?”

“No such fucking thing,” Jason quickly answered.

Y/N usually wasn’t self conscious about her height. She kind of had to get over that back in high school when she was taller than most of the boys in her grade.

But that didn’t mean she completely stopped having slip-ups. Slip-ups that involved questioning her heels or outfit.

Thankfully, Jason was quick to remedy such situations.

“You just look so beautiful,” Jason added as he stepped forward and grabbed her hips possessively.

Y/N kissed him. “Thank you.”

But she opened her mouth to give another warning.

“You’re gonna be late,” Jason spoke for her. “I know. I know.”

Y/N tried not to laugh at her boyfriends desperation as she grabbed her clutch.

“Remember: pizza!” Y/N called over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

————

Bruce and Damian were waiting for Y/N at the venue.

Dick and Tim skipped, going to these things less and less as they became fully grown men with lives of their own.

“Thank you for coming,” Bruce greeted as he kissed her on the cheek.

Y/N was about to turn her attention to Damian and give him a hug.

“What the hell is on your neck!?” The boy cried out before she could.

She blinked in surprise, completely unaware of what her half brother was talking about. Self-consciously, her hand went to the sides of her neck, not sure what she should be hiding.

“Can Todd not keep his hands to himself for 30 seconds?” Damian growled.

That’s when it clicked.

Y/N had a hickey on her neck.

“Damian, lower your voice,” Bruce warned his son.

Meanwhile, Y/N started feeling hot from embarrassment.

“Father, make him stop,” Damian whined.

To her surprise, Bruce cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Damian, Y/N is a grown woman in a relationship. She can do as she pleases.”

It was the right answer, but Y/N was still sweating from the embarrassment.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she quickly mumbled, before disappearing to the nearest bathroom.

But Y/N swore she heard Bruce continuing to scold Damian for his rudeness and for embarrassing her.

When she reached the bathroom, she lifted her head to see that she very much did have a hickey on her neck. It was perfectly hidden in the shadow of her jaw, which was why she hadn’t noticed it while getting ready. If she had, she would’ve put 5 layers of makeup on it to make sure her family didn’t notice.

Thankfully, she brought some cover up with her and quickly started going to work.

After 10 minutes, it was invisible and Y/N let out a sigh of relief.

She pulled out her cellphone, glaring at it as if were her boyfriend.

“You better start behaving. Damian and Bruce just found a hickey on my neck. I’m so fucking embarrassed,” Y/N texted to Jason.

“Who cares?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course he’d answer with that.

“Call me old fashioned, but I’d prefer not remind my father and younger brother that I do in fact have a sex life.”

“A healthy, satisfied, and passionate sex life *,” Jason corrected.

Before she could respond, he texted again with, “Did you cover it up?”

“Obviously.”

“What a shame. Maybe it would’ve kept the spoiled rich boys away from you.”

“You’re on thin ice, Jason Todd.”

“Ooo. I love it when you use the full name. Gets me all hot and bothered.”

Y/N sighed and tossed her phone back into her clutch.

She’d given up on making Jason feel any bit of sympathy. That man would never feel guilty about showing the world how obsessed he was with her.

—————

Jason was reading on the couch when Y/N returned home.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted before returning to reading his book.

“Ugh. I drank too much champagne. I have the worst headache.”

“I’ll order some pizza,” Jason offered and pulled out his phone.

Y/N sighed in relief when she took off her heels and then she collapsed on the couch, laying her head on Jason’s lap as he placed their order.

Without thinking, his free hand when to her head and started massaging it, hoping it would help with her migraine.

“Hmm,” she hummed with her eyes closed. “That feels better.”

“Order has been placed,” he confirmed.

“Thank you.”

“Arrives in 30 minutes.”

She didn’t say anything, knowing exactly where he was going with it.

“What could we possibly do with 30 minutes?” Jason teased as he inched closer to her face.

She opened her eyes and giggled up at him.

“Ya know, I heard that sex helps cure migraines…”

“Does not!” Y/N yelled out.

Before she could argue with him further, his lips shut her up real quick.

For as large as Jason was, he managed to maneuver his body very gracefully, until he was hovering above Y/N while she lay comfortably on the couch.

“You look beautiful with lipstick,” Jason said it as if it was law. “But I like it even more when I ruin it,” he added with an almost evil smirk.

It was hard for Y/N to have a clever quip when he said things like that to her.

“How about I mark you up even more?” He threatened.

“Jason…” she warned.

But they both knew Y/N was pretending to be annoyed by it – or against it. When in reality, she kind of loved how obsessed Jason was with the idea.

Just when Jason hiked Y/N's dress up and was tracing her legs, someone cleared their throat.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and actually growled. Then he quickly lowered Y/N’s dress and tried to make her modest again.

Y/N covered her face and groaned. “Please, please, please tell me Bruce is not standing at the window right now.”

Jason smirked. “And Damian.”

Y/N pushed her boyfriend off of her and sat up to face them.

There stood Batman and Robin.

Tonight was just not her night.

“You have lipstick smeared all over you,” Damian pointed out to Jason smugly.

“I’d say one day you’d see the appeal, but I’m struggling to imagine anyone ever having that kind of interest in you,” Jason shot back.

“Jason!” Y/N scolded in a yell.

Then she quickly turned to Damian with a sympathetic look, “Dami, he didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I did,” Jason corrected. “What do you guys want?”

“Red Robin is missing,” Bruce stated darkly.

“So…go find him,” Jason replied.

“We need your help,” Bruce clarified.

Jason groaned and rubbed his face. “Fine. But we’re setting some fucking ground rules from now on. I’m sick of you guys invading our personal space. We have a door for a reason. Use it.”

Bruce just nodded.

Then he looked down at Damian and with a glare, got him to nod, too.

“I gotta change,” Jason told them, annoyance clear in his voice.

Y/N followed him into their bedroom, to give them a moment of privacy.

“You don’t have to be so rude,” Y/N sighed as she sat on the edge of their bed.

“They spent all night with you and now they have the balls to interrupt?” Jason shot back. “And I want my damn pizza.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I promise I’ll save you some.”

Jason was in his full gear now, Red Hood helmet tucked under his arm.

He took in a deep breath, tension easing off of him as he saw how cute she was looking up from the bed at him. Her lipstick was half off her lips, but she still looked beautiful.

“Promise you’ll be careful,” her tone was nothing but serious.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jason dismissed as he leaned down at kissed her.

"And be nice to Damian."

"Never."

Jason went back to the living room where Bruce and Damian waited.

“You might want to rub some of that off,” Bruce mumbled as he turned and jumped on the window.

Jason glared at Batman’s back as he reluctantly rubbed Y/N’s lipstick off his mouth with his gloved hand.

Then he looked at Damian. “Say another word about it and I'll skin you alive.”

Damian gave him a dirty look, “I’m not scared of you.”

–––––––––

Let me know if you liked it!!!

#father of mine #father of mine bonus content #Jason Todd x reader #jason todd x tall!reader #Bruce Wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #damian wayne x sister #batboys #batfam

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the-atlas-sister · 3 years

Text

The Dinner (Reign of the Supermen Conner x Reader)

Warnings: none

KEY

f/c = favirote color

y/c = you choose

"Wait what?" you exclaimed, staring at your father.

"He said the Kents are coming over for Christmas dinner," Damian said, glancing at you.

"I heard what he said Dami," you scoffed, looking at the younger boy.

"Well you did as-"

"It was rhetorical," you snapped.

"It was Clark's idea," Bruce said, walking into his room, you and Damian following. "Besides, it'll just be him, Lois, Jonathan, and Conner."

"Clark, Jonathan, and Lois are fine," you said leaning on the mirror Bruce used to fix his tie. "Connor is the problem. He's an egotistic manic flirt."

"I agree with Y/N," Damian said, standing behind Bruce. You cocked an eyebrow at him. "He's annoying."

"Just don't talk to him," Bruce said, turning around. "Now, can you please go get ready?" Damian walked out of the room, leaving you alone with Bruce. "Both of you."

You sighed before following the younger boy out of the room. You stopped at the doorway. "Please tell me Tim's going to be here," you said, looking over your shoulder.

Bruce shook his head. "He's on patrol with Dick and Jason."

"Of course he is," you mumbled before trudging to your room. You slammed your door before searching through your closet. "Why can't I just hide in my room?" you said to yourself before pulling out an f/c tank top dress with a knee-length twirl skirt and a little sparkle. (A/N You can be a feminist and still like glitter...) You then casually put your hair in y/c.

"Y/N," Damian said from your door. "The Kents are outside."

You groaned as you put on some makeup (or none if you don't wear any) before tugging on a pair of combat boots. "Do you think Dad would believe you if you just told them I died?" you asked, opening your door.

"No," Damian said with a poker face. It was hard to read that kid sometimes. He was like a 5'2 statue.

"What about, I slipped into a coma?" you joked, walking out of your room.

"He'd investigate," Damian said, walking next to you. "It'd be similar to when you pretended to be sick to avoid school."

"Oh yeah," you shivered at the memory. "He took me all the way to the hospital."

"He knew you were bluffing," Damian stated.

"World's greatest detective," you shrugged, walking down Wayne manor's large staircase.

"You both look nice," Bruce complemented, reaching us at the end of the stairs.

"We're sure I can't hide in my room?" you said as you walked to the front doors. Bruce sent you a stern look. "Guess that's a no," you grumbled.

Alfred then opened the door to reveal the Kents. Clark had his glasses on and wore a nice suit and Lois wore her hair down with a nice red dress. Jonathan wore a casual outfit (you assumed his parents couldn't get him into a real suit), jeans, and a t-shirt with the "family" crest on it. And then there was the egotistic manic himself. He wore what he always did, his suit and leather jacket.

"Clark," Bruce said with a small smile.

"Hello Bruce," Clark said extending a hand for Bruce to shake. Bruce did.

"Thank you for inviting us for dinner, especially on Christmas," Lois said with a kind smile.

"We're glad to have you," Bruce said kindly. "Come in." The Kents filed into the house, Connor coming in last.

"You didn't have to get all dolled up for me babe," he said as he passed you, sending you a wink.

"In your dreams Wonder Kid," you hissed, following the family. You noticed Jonathan trying to talk to Damian.

"Oh you know it," Connor said, rushing next to you.

You rolled your eyes as you walked into the dining room.

"Your house is gorgeous Bruce," Lois said, sitting down.

"Thank you, Lois," Bruce said, as Clark sat next to Lois and across from Damian.

"It's big," Jonathan stated, hopping into the seat next to Damian.

"Yes, very," you chuckled, sitting next to Bruce. "Maybe you and Damian could explore after dinner?" Damian sent you a pointed glare.

"Yeah!" Jonathan cheered.

"You and Connor could go with," Bruce said as Connor flew into the seat across from you with a smirk. "Make sure they don't get lost."

"Damian knows his way around," you said.

"And he knows where he could trap Jonathan if he annoyed him too much," Bruce whispered to you.

"But you know, just in case," you added hesitantly.

"Cool!" Connor said.

***after dinner***

"Let's go!" Jonathan exclaimed, jumping out of his seat.

"Fantastic," Damian said sarcastically, slowly getting up. You followed, noticing Connor send you a cheeky grin.

"What do you wanna explore?" you asked Jonathan as the four of you walked out of the dining room.

"How about the balcony?" Damian said, smiling slyly.

"They can fly dummy," you whispered to him. You noticed him roll his eyes. "How about the kitchen? I made some cookies this afternoon."

"Cookies!" Both of the Kent boys grinned.

"Yeah," you said.

"Can we have some of the cookies?" Jonathan asked.

"Of course," you grinned. "Come on." You lead them to the kitchen, not noticing that Damian had slipped away. "Here." You grabbed the cookie plate and placed it in front of the boys. Both of their eyes lit up before they grabbed a few, stuffing them in their mouths.

"These are great!" Connor said although you couldn't exactly hear him through all the cookies in his mouth.

"Yeah!" Jonathan agreed.

"Thanks," you said, smiling softly.

"Where's Damian?" Jonathan asked, looking around.

"I don-"

"I'll go find him!" The small super boy then ran out of the kitchen, blowing your hair to the side a bit.

"Looks like it's just us," Connor said, leaning on his elbows and wiggling his brows. A few crumbs flew from his mouth, making you cringe.

You stayed silent as you walked toward the door.

"Wait!" Connor said, flying in front of the door. He swallowed the rest of the cookies. "Why don't you like me?"

"Are you serious?" you scoffed.

"Yeah, I'm charming, good-looking, an amazing superhero-"

"Narcissistic, flirtatious, annoying," you listed.

"I'm not annoying," Connor said, frowning. "Or narcissistic. What's narcissistic?"

"It means you have a big head," you stated, crossing your arms over your chest.

Connor blinked before putting his hands on his head. "I have a normal-sized head," he said, confusion written on his face.

You laughed a bit, making him smile. "Your full of yourself, cocky, egotistic," you listed.

"I think it's called confident babe," Connor said, making you roll your eyes.

"There it is again," you mumbled, pushing past the super teen.

Part two?

#damian wayne #damian #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #conner kent #conner kent x you #conner kent x reader #conner kent x y/n #kon el #kon el x reader #reign of the supermen #death of superman #lois lane #clark kent #jonathan kent #jon kent #jon x damian

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soulmate-game · 3 years

Text

Useful Part 2

fluff with a little hurt and comfort. If you want answers as to the lack of angst, look through my recent posts for an explanation.

—* — * — * —* —*

“Wait, you have a WHAT?” were the first words that the rest of the Gotham-based vigilantes heard when they finally were able to track down where Damian had gone. Dick looked over at Bruce, who was noticeably tense. No surprise there, the man had just found out that he had a second biological child. One who was apparently a superhero already, without his intervention, and also apparently had a tragic background in the League of fucking Assassin Assholes. Not to mention that Damian’s track record with meeting siblings wasn’t great, even if this one wasn’t actually new to him. Nobody had any real fear of Damian relapsing on his no-kill rule, they knew he had matured far too much to be at risk of killing for something as immature as sibling rivalry anymore.

But there was still fear. Because this new Wayne was an Unknown Factor, and as a rule the Bats hated Unknown Factors. And they had no idea what the relationship between the two had been before they had been separated, or what it would become now.

“That wasn’t Damian’s voice,” Dick helpfully pointed out the obvious. Bruce only frowned, doing his best (and failing) to hide his anxiety about what they would find. Silently, the group inched forward to the edge of the abandoned building they were on top of so that they could look over at what was happening. What they saw was a girl, presumably the same one who had been in a ladybug onesie and had fearlessly begun to ask them to leave Paris— until she had laid proper eyes on Robin and fled, that was. That girl was sitting down next to an unmasked Damian, who had his arm around her shoulders and let her lean into his side. He even smirked cheerfully at her question before continuing to speak to her.

“A dragon-bat. I knew you’d love hearing about him, I’ll introduce you when you come visit the Batcave. His name is Goliath,” Damian admitted smugly. Despite the familiar attitude and pride behind his words though, his spying family couldn’t help but notice that he kept periodically rubbing the girl’s (they really needed to find out her name) shoulder in reassurance. None of them missed the tear tracks on both of their faces, or how red the girl’s eyes were. Clearly they had missed something big.

But nobody wanted to try to figure that out yet. This scene was too precious, too breathtaking for them to interrupt just yet. They had never seen Damian this vulnerable around someone outside of their little circle before, someone from the Time Before Bruce, no less. Most of the time, only Nightwing was able to see this side to Damian. And usually the roles were reversed, with Damian being the one consoled. They had never seen him in the position of the comforter before. The pillar of support.

It really cemented just how far he had come.

So they watched silently as the girl flinched, pulling away a bit and hunching in on herself. The laugh she let out was small and overflowing with self-degradation.

“You make it sound as if the rest of your family actually wants me to visit,” she replied sourly. Damian gently cuffed her over the head, frowning.

“Two things,” he held up two fingers from his free hand. “One: They will. They accepted me, and I was— well, you remember how I used to be. Once they actually meet you, and process the fact that there’s another Wayne now, they will bombard you with more welcoming than you will know what to do with. Two: It’s Our family, Marinette. Not mine, ours.”

Well, at least they had a name now. But it seems like they had bigger issues now, like Marinette’s clearly damaged sense of self. Jason and Tim traded knowing glances; it wasn’t hard for them to guess where, or how, she might have been damaged enough to think so lowly of herself.

They watched as Marinette shook her head.

“I don’t know. It’s one thing to try to… to get to know you again. We used to be close before… everything,” she haltingly argued, voice small and frail and uncertain. But she never once looked away from Damian’s eyes, trying to convey as best as she could what she was feeling. “But they’re different. They don’t have any reason to trust or like me, Dami. And I’m bad at, well everything, but especially,” she waved her hands frantically as if indicating the whole situation they were in. “I mean, listen to me! I can barely articulate right now, and I’m talking to someone I’ve known my whole life! I’m a mess. Nobody wants a mess.”

It was Damian’s turn to snort, and he pulled her right back into his side. “Please. If anything, that’s exactly the type of child Father goes looking for. We’re all a mess. Especially Father, trust me.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” she accused suspiciously, but sank into his sideways embrace anyway. Damian chuckled.

“No, I’m being honest. He’s terrible at emotions, not that I really have much room to talk. We all are pretty bad with them. But he’s the most obvious when it comes to that issue,” Damian smirked over at his sister conspiratorially. “For example. He still tries to tell people that he works alone, and pushes people away because he has this intense desire to protect, but doesn’t know how to say “I don’t want you to get hurt, stop worrying me,” so instead he says “Go away, I don’t need you,” only for us to see through that nonsense and remind him that the amount of people in his team is in the double digits already. He doesn’t want to admit he cares about us and is vulnerable—”

“Sounds familiar,” Marinette teased with a watery grin, startling a short laugh from her twin. He nudged her a little roughly (but not to roughly) and playfully glared at her. Marinette just giggled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied with a grin before waving his free hand in dismissal. “Anyway. Another example. He has no idea how to tell a stranger, “hey, I’m your father and I will not reject you. In fact, I’m completely willing to adopt you right this moment and whisk you away to Gotham and relative safety and hire an entire team of therapists to help you and buy you half the world if you asked for it,” so instead he and the rest of our emotionally constipated family just lurks on the edge of a building in broad daylight eavesdropping on us and expects us not to notice.”

“Wait what,” Marinette’s gaze instantly whipped up towards the sky, taking only half a second to locate the aforementioned eavesdroppers. Everyone except Bruce at least had the courtesy to duck down and pretend not to be there when they noticed she had seen them, leaving Batman standing seemingly alone on the concrete roof. Marinette blinked once. Twice. Then turned to Damian. “I’m gonna blame the fact that I didn’t notice them on emotional turmoil, because there is no way I’ve gotten THAT rusty.”

Damian smiled, but didn’t laugh. He knew that was a deflection to try and distract from Marinette’s quickly resurging self-consciousness. Her hands were already trembling again, and the fear from only minutes ago had resurfaced. The insecurity. He could practically see the words “I’m not good enough,” written in her irises.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, standing up and pulling her with him. “If anyone has to worry here, it’s me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Marinette whisper-hissed right back, eyes wide in disbelief and confusion. “You’re— You! Mister Perfect!”

Damian rolled his eyes, and his self-deprecating smirk matched the laugh Marinette had given just a few minutes earlier. “For the League, maybe,” he shrugged. “Never the Wayne family. Which is why I know you’ll be fine. If they put up with everything I’ve done and still call me one of them, they’ll accept you with barely a second thought.”

Marinette’s next argument was cut off by the sound of a dozen soft footfalls stirring up dirt not far ahead of them. The BatClan had landed from the rooftop.

Marinette gulped.

But if there was one thing— one thing she still remembered from her days as Marie Al-Ghul, it was how to fake pride and confidence. She straightened her shoulders automatically, lifted her chin, and pulled away from Damian’s supporting arm around her shoulder. Damian let her.

A little bit of old resentment flared up in him as he saw Batman walk up close enough to comfortably talk with them. Resentment that he no longer held onto, but that had haunted him nearly every night of the first two years he spent with his dad. The realization that maybe his twin was the one that was meant to be a Wayne. Marie had the blue eyes, the compassion, the more specifically detective-oriented mind. The calm head. Sometimes. Marie was exactly who he imagined when he thought of a naturally born member of the BatClan. Stubborn, clever, morally just. She had risked immediate death just because she refused to fight him, for crying out loud. Because she didn’t want to hurt the boy who used to be her best friend. The only ally she had ever had, growing up.

Meanwhile, he still had issues reigning in his anger sometimes. He had too much blood on his hands, he was more of a battlefield tactician than a long-term strategist. Still stubborn, but also completely unaware of the pain he brought others with his words or actions a lot of the time. He used to be such a rage fueled little demon, and thinking about how his sister fit the classic Wayne outline more thoroughly than he did had made him destroy more than a few practice dummies in frustration.

But now, looking at Marinette trying so hard to appear strong and proud when he knew she was still so shattered inside, relief overpowered the old and dull resentment. This was what she needed, he could sense that easily. She, just like him all those years ago, needed Bruce and the others to start to heal her and reforge what the League had badly molded.

“... Marinette, I suppose?” Damian nearly facepalmed at his father’s awkward attempt at a conversation starter. Marinette herself was clearly too keyed up and overthinking things to even register any amusement at the lame attempt, merely nodding with an overly serious expression on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Monsieur Wayne. Or that’s my name nowadays, that is,” She stumbled a little in her response before clenching her fists and forcing herself to continue as calmly as she could muster up. “My birth name was Marie Al-Ghul.”

Bruce’s eyebrows visibly furrowed underneath his cowl. “Was?”

“I…” Marinette finally looked away, shame creeping back onto her face. “I was explicitly told that I was stripped of the Al-Ghul name and would be killed if I ever dared lay claim to it again. So I not-so-legally changed it. And I was later adopted.”

Several sharp gasps or the hiss of breath through teeth bit through the quiet breeze. Nobody was necessarily surprised, Marinette could see it when she looked through her eyelashes and examined the winces and sympathy on the faces of the vigilantes before her. Batman’s shoulders were stiff, as if someone had paralyzed only his shoulder blades.

“And the people who adopted you?” Batman pursued. Marinette couldn’t read his tone very well, but it sounded vaguely angry so she quickly raised her hands in a placating gesture and her eyes widened significantly.

“They’ve been amazing! They don’t know anything about my past, or who raised me, but they are endlessly patient with me. I mean, honestly! Sabine caught me when I was trying to steal one of her gold bracelets in Hong Kong— and I know I’ve never been as good of a combatant as Dami, but I’ve always been better at sleight of hand and stealth so honestly that’s impressive— and she saw my dirty eight-year-old face and for some reason decided, ‘yeah I want this one as my daughter’ and roped Tom right into it and next thing I know they somehow tailed me to my hideout? I still don’t know how the hell they managed that, but Tom had a huge plate of steaming buns and I was so hungry and suddenly it’s two years later and I’m adopted and we’re on a plane to Paris—” Marinette threw up her hands. “I still don’t fully grasp what happened sometimes.”

She belatedly seemed to realize that she had just gone on an entire breathless rant at the speed of sound, and slapped her hands over her mouth before lunging into a deep bow. “I apologize! I spoke horridly out of turn!”

To her surprise though, she was met with a soft laugh instead of a scolding. She jerked in surprise, whipping her head up only to see Batman holding a hand over his chin to hide his large grin. It only took another second for the boys behind him to laugh a lot LESS softly. Nightwing strolled over casually and swung an arm around both her and Damian’s shoulders, playfully nudging her brother with his knee.

“I think she fits right in, don’t you little D?”

“Of course,” Damian scoffed, though his eyes were playful. “She is a Wayne by blood. She ‘fits in’ more than you strays.”

“Dami!” Marinette whipped back to him and puffed out her cheeks. “That was uncalled for!” she barked. Damian held his hands up in surrender.

“Relax,” he said as soothingly as he could manage. “They know I’m joking,” he dropped his hands and a knowing smirk took over his face. “And besides, now you’re relaxed so my plan worked,” Marinette could only blink at that. She… did feel more relaxed, actually. “Also. I told you you’d be accepted easily. They already consider you one of us.”

“Wha— there’s no way—” she frantically looked at each of the older men around her, but each of them just shot her a smile or grin and a short nod. Her shoulders and jaw both fell, and it broke a little of everyone’s heart.

Marinette looked so utterly shocked, bewildered to be accepted as if it was still something profoundly foreign to her. And there was that disbelief in her eyes, that distrust that screamed that she expected some sort of lie here. That told that she thought this would all crumble away at any second. If anyone had any reservations about bringing her into their inner circles, it vanished right that moment. She needed support, or she’d crumble away and they all knew it.

“How about we start by talking about the situation with Hawkmoth?” Red Robin spoke up, walking forward to stand beside Batman. “I assume that’s a little more in your element?”

Damian silently vowed to thank Tim later for that. In a silent, completely anonymous way of course. Couldn’t have Tim thinking they were friends or something now, could he? Marinette instantly straightened up and nodded, her confidence returning with a little more sincerity this time.

“Yeah. Yeah, let me transform again. It’ll be easier to explain.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was three weeks later, on Marinette’s third now-weekly visit to the Batcave, when the question finally came up. Jason had asked to spar with Marinette for the first time, having seen her in action as Ladybug and wanting to test the girl when she didn’t have superpowers to rely on. Damian hadn’t been down in the cave to warn him, and the result was Jason’s gut sinking as Marinette scrambled as far away from him as she could, eyes wide and chest heaving in the beginnings of a panic attack.

“Shit,” Jason muttered before he quickly knelt down and did his best to talk her down, to calm her until her breathing slowed and her pupils were back to normal. It wasn’t long afterwards that Marinette started hugging herself, refusing to look at him. But he wasn’t going to just back down, he wanted to solve this issue. If even the mere suggestion of a spar was enough to set her off, he needed to figure out why and fix it.

So he carefully lowered himself so he was sitting only a foot away from her, resting his arms across his knees casually.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t think it would be a sore subject. That’s on me.”

Marinette just shrugged, but didn’t answer him. She just buried her face in her arms and took a shaky breath.

Jason let the silence linger for a while before trying again. “Does this have to do with certain Asshole Assassins?”

That startled a slightly hysterical bark of laughter from her, and she had to wipe away a few tears when she raised her head and finally turned it in his direction slightly. Not enough for her to be looking at him, but just a subtle turn to show that she was listening and speaking to him. “Yeah.”

“You know, you never told us why you got disowned,” Jason tried to make his words as casual as possible, but wasn’t surprised when Marinette still stiffened and took a sharp breath. He didn’t push. The stage was set, and he’d wait until either she took the opportunity to open up or told him to leave well enough alone. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and her foot tapped on the ground a bit. Clear signs of her anxiety around the subject, and Jason’s hopes vanished a little. He would probably have to wait longer for her to be ready to share.

But, to his pleasant surprise, he was wrong. She took another few minutes to gather her thoughts, but she did eventually open up to him.

“I refused to fight Damian,” she admitted. “It was… We were seven. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight to the death, but it was a very important spar. We were using live weaponry, and we were told to fight until we couldn’t anymore. Whoever fell first would be relegated as a mere soldier, and have to fight for status like any other assassin in the League. The winner would officially be named as G— as Ra’s Heir. I didn’t want to fight, because I knew Damian would win but I also knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as Ra’s probably expected if I gave it my all like he wanted. I knew both Damian and I would be heavily injured if I did as he asked, and it wouldn’t be worth it. If I misjudged anything, any single hit, I could have accidentally injured Damian permanently and ruined his worth in Ra’s eyes, and that wasn’t an option. I didn’t care that throwing the fight was as good as giving up my life, because at least I could be sure that Damian kept his. I could make sure that he was treated well, or as well as anyone could hope for in the League anyway. I could, with only a few words, make sure he became indispensable. Ra’s and Talia never liked me as much as Damian anyway, I figured… I figured it was nobody’s loss,” She swallowed heavily, clenching her eyes shut. “I was always just the spare. The extra. Damian was their crown prince, the one with actual value. Even to me. I saw him, and I saw everything I wanted to be. I… I tossed down my weapons and let him stab me, because I figured I owed it to him for being such a failure in comparison to him. That I owed it to him to do everything I could to make things easier for him, since I was just an unnecessary obstacle—” strong arms wrapped around her, and she turned to sob into Jason’s chest as he just silently held her.

“Idiot,” Damian whispered, making Marinette jump. Her twin sat only a few feet away, though only Jason would have known when exactly he had gotten there with them. He shook his head at her. “I never would have gotten as far as I did without you,” he whispered, looking up at the cave ceiling. “You were the only real rival I had. When you left, everything was either too easy or nearly impossible, nothing was the same as trying my best against someone who was just as good as me. And when I got here and met the others, I didn’t think any of them were worthy of taking your position, you know,” he scoffed a bit as he got lost in his memories. “That’s why I hated Tim for so long, I think. He reminded me of you so much that I wanted nothing more than to punch him for daring to replace you—”

“Heh, the Replacement twice over, huh?” Jason joked. Damian chuckled with a small eye roll.

“Plus, he just has a really punchable face,” Damian added, trying to distract from the emotion behind everything he had just admitted. “Part of me thought you were dead. The other part refused to believe that. And seeing Tim and how some of his mannerisms were the same as yours,” Damian shrugged a little. “It stung. Especially that second year, when I started to regret that you never had the chance to come here and join them with me. Meet them with me.”

Marinette sniffled. “... Who are you and what have you done with Dami? He’s never this sappy.”

Damian flicked a pebble at her head with a good natured glare, successfully diffusing the serious air a little. Marinette wouldn’t ever be normal, and it would take a while before she was no longer fragile, but she could get there. Especially now that her bridges with her brother had been mended, and and a whole new family had cropped up to help support her.

She was glad Damian had convinced her to try, again.

#maribat #platonic daminette #sibling daminette #bio!dad au #bio!dad bruce wayne #ml x dc #mlb x dc #Useful

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

Holiday Party

Damian Wayne x reader

He’s about 16 yrs old here.

Warning: Christmas? Kissing

Christmas series 4

You were early. Damian looked out his door to see no one around and he rushed downstairs to meet you at the door. You were being dropped off by your older brother who gave Damian a look from the front seat of his car that all but said he’d mess Damian up if he hurt you. Funny to think about your brother trying to beat him up but he would never consider it. Damian opened your car door for you.

“Beloved, you’re early,” he said with a grin. Your brother gave a rough hey and Damian’s face dropped and he gave a curt nod. “I’ll have Alfred drop her off so you won’t have to pick her up,” Damian told him. Your brother nodded again before leaving.

Damian barely held your finger with his own as he walked you up to his room. He didn’t want his brothers to see him being affectionate. He pulled you into his room and engulfed you in a huge hug. He wasn’t short little Dami anymore but had been hit by puberty like a bus and was almost 6 foot tall. He smelled like cologne and his sweater was so freaking soft. You felt the fabric on his chest with your hand and he stiffened and coughed a little. Oh yeah, he could feel that. You flushed.

“So you want to watch a movie?” Damian said pulling away.

“Yeah. Sounds great,” you said sitting on his bed pulling your shoes off. You slid up the bed to lay on his pillow as he grabbed his laptop.

“Drake doesn’t know but I’ve set it up that every film he downloads, I get a copy too so I’ve got a bunch. Though his taste is pretty sappy for some of these,” Damian said wrinkling his nose.

“Probably to watch with his girlfriend. Or maybe he’s a sap,” you laughed. Damian climbed on the bed and laid the laptop on the other side of you. His arms temporarily caged you against him and you couldn’t help but think of him on top of you. Damian laid back as the film started playing. He put two pillows behind his head to watch from behind you. You laid on your side and he wrapped an arm around your waist loosely.

The film was probably great. All you could think of was how close your boyfriend in the softest boyfriend sweater was right beside you. You slid farther back until your back hit his chest. He inhaled audibly but didn’t move. Damian cursed himself. You had definitely heard that.

You ran your hand along the arm of his sweater as the movie went on. He smelled a little like soft cologne and spiced tea. Everything was fine until there was a sex scene. Nothing graphic but enough to where you were both very aware of your situation. Damian slid his body a little back from you making a little space between you and him.

You turned to look at him and he couldn’t help but brush his lips against yours. You slowly turned in his arms until you were making out while laying on your side. Damian held your face softly with one hand. Your fingers slid into his hair. His tongue slipped into your mouth gently just exploring you.

The door to his room opened.

“Master Damian, your father needs you in his study at your earliest convenience. Also... do take care with your visitors. You are only 16,” Alfred said, looking pointedly at the ceiling before leaving. Damian flushed on his tan skin. you covered your mouth and giggled, embarrassed.

“At least it wasn’t your dad,” you said. He nodded as he stood up.

“I won’t be long. Just watch the movie and I’ll be back as quick as I can,” Damian said and you noted that his lips were pink and maybe even a little swollen from kissing.

“Yeah, no problem.”

It took all of 1.7 minutes for Bruce to notice his son’s lips. His eyes narrowed a little and he looked critically at Damian who was staring at the computer screen.

“Damian, you are of the age where sexual education is important. You are practicing safe sex, yes?” Bruce asked in an even tone as if almost casually but really he wanted to seem calm. Damian twisted so fast to look at his father.

“I am not,” he said quickly.

“You aren’t??” Bruce asked shocked. “That’s very dangerous-“

“I’m not having sex. At all,” Damian said completely red. Bruce calmed.

“None? Because condoms-“

“Father, I’ve been taught. And if I do have sex I will be safe but I’m not now,” Damian said. He refused to look anywhere but the screen. “How did Alfred tell you so fast?” He complained.

“Tell me? Is there something to tell me? You know what? Don’t answer that. I trust you. There is a bowl of condoms under the sink in the bathroom off my study. All of the boys use it and it stays full. No questions asked. And the family doctor is very discreet for any questions you might have,” Bruce said delicately.

“Okay. I got it. Thanks. But please stop. Tell me about the case,” Damian practically begged.

——————————

It was not a few minutes but a full 2 hours later that Damian came back to his room. You were asleep. A movie played in the background and you hug his pillow. Damian smiled a little before waking you. It was almost time for his brothers to arrive. You sat up quickly. You’d never fallen asleep at his place.

“Sorry I was so long. Family stuff,” he said vaguely. He did that all the time. “It’s almost time for the party.”

“Oh I need to get ready,” you sat up. You’d planned to get started a little earlier. You didn’t dress fancy around Damian; he didn’t care. But his family’s Christmas was fairly formal.

“Is this okay?” You asked 20 minutes later. Damian nodded with a little smile.

“You look beautiful in anything, beloved. But this is exceptional,” he said and you flushed. His way with words. “It’s time to go down stairs.”

Damian took your hand and you walked downstairs. His eyes lingered on you longer than necessary. Somehow Tim and his girlfriend and Duke had beat you both downstairs. Damian pulled out a chess board and Tim and Bruce once again dragged work into every room they entered.

“I won’t go easy on you,” Damian warned. He was far better at strategy but your moments on the board were incredibly erratic to the point that he couldn’t predict your next move.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. If you did, I’d expect a body snatcher,” you said and he hazarded a small smile. Damian didn’t want to appear too pleased. Bruce was watching him while maintaining conversation. You understood his weird stoic family dynamic enough to ignore it.

Damian won 3 out of 4 games. You could admit that your win was more luck than skill but you took it. Dick and his girlfriend arrived and the party moved to the dining room.

After a few minutes, a man you had never seen showed up humming to introduce himself and his date. The butler seemed very happy and for a minute you wondered if it was his son. No, this was the mysterious brother who was always fighting with the family.

“Dami, who is that?” You asked whispering.

“Jason Todd, one of my father’s wards. And I suppose his girlfriend,” Damian said. You nodded and watched as they sat down. Later in the evening, the eldest, that Damian had even called his brother, proposed to his girlfriend.

You were given a small glass of champagne and you looked at it quietly. Did they forget you and Damian were 16? Not exactly legal. But you didn’t say anything and you both drank the tiny amount of alcohol with everyone else. Damian squeezed your hand and gave you a tiny smile.

The party moved to the parlor with a billiards table and a dart board on the wall. The adults were served more alcohol and pudding was served informally. A tasty sticky cake that you dare not asked the ingredients was quickly eaten. You and Damian sat on a loveseat in the corner where you could watch the others play billiards and other games. Tim and Jason played a heated game of 9 ball. Jason was a natural. Tim was all strategy.

You leaned against Damian’s shoulder as the storm raged outside. You were full and the room was warm.

“It’s far too dangerous to drive out tonight. It’s turned into a blizzard so you all will stay here. There are plenty of rooms and beds for everyone and anything you could need,” Bruce announced to the group. Jason sighed and Damian opened his mouth. “I’ll call her parents to let them know. Don’t worry Damian.”

Damian relaxed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You began to doze as the pool games played. He ran his fingers along your outer arm and watched from the corner of his eyes as you fell asleep. He enjoyed your body warmth and soft sweet scent subtly.

An hour later you woke as you were slowly being moved. Strong arms cradled you and you could smell Damian’s pleasant unique scent strongly. You gripped his arm as he carried you out of the room. He hushed softly to let you go back to sleep.

“You got him shot?!” One of the women in the room yelped and you jolted awake.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep, beloved. Don’t mind my stupid brothers,” Damian said quietly. He gently laid you on his bed and pulled you in the covers. His soft sheets quickly lulled you to sleep.

While you slept, he grabbed blankets and settled on the floor. Half an hour later, right as Damian was falling asleep, Bruce opened the door quietly. He saw the boy on the floor, nodded, and shut the door.

#fns #christmas series #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #robin x reader #dc #damian wayne imagine

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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years

Text

Moonlight II

Genre: DC/Marvel Crossover

Relationship: Older!Damian Wayne x Adopted Stark!Fem!Reader

Requested: No (Only a few requests are open, please see pinned post for details)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, swearing, canon typical violence

Description: You are the adopted daughter of Tony Stark, Damian is the son of Bruce Wayne. Your two fathers hate each other which by extension should mean that you and Damian are on less than friendly terms. The issue? You’ve been dating for little over a year and have been keeping it a secret. What will happen if your fathers figure it out?

A/N: I actually hadn’t planned on this ending the way it did, but as I was writing it this is just how it happened. Enjoy!

Morning light shown through your window the next morning a few minutes before your alarm went off. Your mind drifted back to the night before with Damian sneaking into your room and inviting you out for an afternoon with his brothers. Excitement coursed through you at the thought of finally meeting them. You quickly got up and began preparing for your day, you were almost done when there was a knock on your door.

When you opened it you discovered Pepper standing there with a bright smile on her face, “Good morning honey, Tony and I were just about to have breakfast, did you want to join us?”

You glanced back at your clock and saw that it was only eight thirty, you had plenty of time to eat before going to meet Damian, “Sure Mom.”

You grabbed the rest of your things before joining Pepper. It had taken you awhile before you had started calling Pepper “mom”. When Tony had first adopted you, you weren’t sure what he and Pepper wanted. It had been some time since you had had a family and you weren’t sure what Tony’s motivations were. Did he just want to look good to the press? Did he want to ease a guilty conscience? Did he just actually want a kid?

Then Morgan had come along. You thought for sure that that would be it for you, they had their own kid now, they wouldn’t want you. But that they hadn’t treated you any differently and you came to think of Morgan as your own sister. You were fiercely protective of her and she loved you to death. She was currently staying with Peter while you and your parents were in Gotham.

Tony greeted you with a hug and a kiss to your temple and began blabbing on and on about the gala the night before. Your mind drifted to Damian and how good he had looked in his suit. Then it went to the stairwell and the night before in your room, you only broke out of it when Tony cleared his throat, “Earth to Y/N, you still with us kid?”

You chuckled nervously, “Sorry just got a little lost in thought is all.”

“Care to share with the group?”

You shook your head, “Oh I was just thinkin’ about all the things I want to get done today. We leave in two days so that’s not a lot of time to see the city.”

“You could always come back later with your friends,” Pepper suggested. “I’m sure a vacation would be good for you.”

You smiled at her, “Yeah, you’re right, it would be nice.” You glanced at the clock on your phone and saw that it was creeping closer to nine thirty, you had to be at the park by ten to meet Damian. You stood and said, “Thanks for breakfast, but I want to go ahead and get a headstart on today. I’ll see you at dinner.” You kissed Pepper on the cheek and gave Tony a hug before dashing out of the hotel room.

Tony looked at the door you had just exited from and said, “I don’t think she wants to be around us any more.” Pepper merely patted his arm and went back to her breakfast.

You on the other hand were rushing to the park that Damian had mentioned. You were a little worried that someone may see the two of you together, but you honestly also couldn’t care less. Sometimes you were tired of hiding the truth from everyone. You loved Damian and you wanted the world to know that fact, but you worried about what Tony would think or do when he found out. You also wondered if Bruce would be understanding or if he would forbid his son from seeing you as well.

You shoved those thoughts from your mind, you didn’t want them affecting your mood any. Today was going to be a good day. And when you made it into the park you immediately saw Damian, he had a baseball cap and sunglasses on trying to hide who he was, but you knew. You could spot him anywhere. He had spotted you as well and you noticed a smile growing on his face as you raced over toward him. Your arms wrapped around him and he gently lifted you off the ground a few inches.

“Hello beloved,” he whispered in your ear before placing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Hi,” you said, a grin stretching across your face.

Someone cleared their throat and you could have sworn your heart stopped. You had been caught. It was too good to be true. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Dami?”

You looked over his shoulder and saw his three brothers standing there all three of them with amused expressions on their faces. Damian practically growled at their words. Knowing that his brothers knew about the two of you made things a little easier. It was like Peter knowing that you and Damian were dating. The two of you needed someone to turn to when things were tough.

You had almost told Pepper one day when you and Damian had had a fight. You needed a motherly figure to go to, but you weren’t sure how she would feel about the two of you together. She wasn’t like Tony, but would she lie to Tony? You weren’t sure, so you decided to keep it a secret.

You had gone to Natasha despite never really talking to her.

She was in the training room at the Avengers' Compound and you approached her nervously. “Nat, could I talk to you for a moment?”

She had paused what she was doing and turned to you, giving you her full undivided attention, “What can I do for you Y/N?”

You rubbed your arm and said, “If I share a secret will you promise not to tell Dad?”

Natasha’s interest was piqued, “I mean as long as you aren’t in any danger then yeah I can promise not to tell him.”

“I’m dating Damian Wayne,” you said and you watched as her eyes lit up. “Oh God, please tell me you’re not going to use this against me?”

She chuckled, “I promise not to tell him or anyone else. How did this even happen?”

You launched into the tale of how you and Damian had been sworn enemies, always competing against one another and how it had turned to friendship and then to what it was now. You told her about the fight that you couldn’t even remember now, and she gave you her opinions.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you all,” you told them with a bright smile. “Damian talks about you a lot and I’ve been begging him to let me meet you all since you found out about our little affair.”

“They were supposed to give us a few moments alone before ambushing you,” Damian said, his tone clearly stating how unamused he was with his brothers. “But clearly they didn’t take my feelings into account.”

“You’ve been keeping her to yourself for over a year now,” Dick said, his easy going smile never slipping from his face. “We just wanted to meet her.”

Tim nodded his head in agreement, “Don’t get mad, Dami. She’s only here for a few more days and then she’s on her way back to New York.”

You poked Damian on the side, “They have a point, Damian. I don’t mind meeting them now, we have plenty of time to be alone together.”

He still looked disgruntled but you let the boys show you around Gotham. They had an SUV with tinted windows to hide who was inside. The boys were recognizable and so were you. The five of you would be on the front page of all the gossip magazines by tomorrow and everyone and their mother would know that maybe you didn’t play into the whole feud your fathers had going on.

You could see the headlines now:

Real-life Romeo and Juliet with Children of Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark

Y/N Stark and Damian Wayne Making Headlines as Secret Affair

How Long Have These Star-Crossed Lovers Been Together?

You wondered how long it would take Tony to kick you out of the house and never speak to you again. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Tony, he deserved to know. It was just that you didn’t know what he would do when he found out the truth. You knew how much he hated Bruce Wayne, and to be fair Tony didn’t think straight on a lot of things when emotions ran high. He would definitely say something that would hurt and he might regret later.

But knowing your father he would be too proud to admit that he was wrong.

Damian noticed the look on your face and nudged you, “You okay?”

You smiled and took his hand in yours, “Yeah just thinking.”

“About your dad?” He furrowed his brow, the two of you had had many talks about your fathers and their reaction to the two of you coming clean about how you weren’t really enemies.

You leaned your head back and blew out a breath, “I’m just… worried.”

Damian squeezed your hand and said, “Whenever you want to tell him, I’ll be there to support you. And if you want to tell Father first we could while you’re still here. He may put on a show of hating Stark, but I don’t think he’d begrudge you.”

“Damian’s right,” Dick said from the driver’s side. “Bruce looks like he would be the type to throw a fit and tell Damian to get out, but he’s actually not that big of an asshole.”

You laughed, “You saying Stark is an asshole, Grayson?”

“If he doesn’t I will,” Jason turned and grinned at you making you laugh. “No offense.”

“None taken, I know my father can be less than welcoming and let his mouth get him into trouble.” You didn’t have enough fingers to count the times your father had gotten into trouble because his mouth had gotten the better of him. “I just wish I knew if he would be okay with us. That he wouldn’t let the feud get in the way of realizing how happy I am.”

Leaning over Damian kissed your cheek. “So should I set a course for the manor?” Dick asked.

“It’s up to you,” Damian said. “Father will be discreet.”

Taking a steadying breath you said, “Let’s do it.” The boys cheered and Damian once again squeezed your hand to let you know that he would be with you every step of the way.

#Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader #Damian Wayne x Stark!Reader #Damian Wayne x Reader fluff #Damian Wayne x Reader angst #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne fanfic #Damian Wayne fanfiction #Damian Wayne fluff #Damian Wayne angst

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 2

First

Interdimensional travel? Awful. Don’t try it at home. It’s a lot like how one would imagine getting sucked up a straw: you get squished and pulled until you come out the other side a goopy mess.

Speaking of goopy messes: Tim keeled over and threw up.

He ignored the yelling right next to him because, honestly, he couldn’t even bring himself to look up at the moment. The bright light of this world -- apparently it was daytime here, ew -- hurt his eyes even through his sunglasses and he really didn’t want to move from where he had curled up in what seemed to be grass.

But, eventually, he did. He pushed himself up onto his knees and squinted over at her.

Ladybug had detransformed at some point and was now wearing an old t-shirt and some sweats… and she was apparently fighting off a baby. Damian kicked, screamed, and wiggled in her hold as she tried her hardest to trap him in the blanket again.

“... how are you losing to a baby?”

She sent a glare at him and then mumbled a curse as a tiny fist connected with her face and Damian wriggled away from her.

“Let me think about that, Red. What could go wrong if I, a meta used to fighting other metas, tried to use force against a human child?”

Okay, yeah. It was probably for the best that she hadn’t tried anything.

Oddly enough, when Tim walked over and replaced Marinette, Damian started behaving immediately.

He frowned, tipping his head to the side confusedly. He picked up his younger brother and stood up. “Why’d he start freaking out?”

She did the exact opposite of standing up, opting to spread out in the grass and glare at the sky. “I don’t know. He just started freaking out when I tried to put the watch around his neck.”

“Weird,” he mumbled.

“Yeah.”

He took the time to look around properly for once. They were in a park but it must have been a weekday because there was hardly anyone around. The only people that had paid them any mind were a group of teenagers -- probably ditching, he thought -- that were staring at them with wide eyes.

Tim glanced at a street sign to make sure the common language was English before sending them a glare. “It’s rude to stare, y’know.”

The teenagers quickly looked down at their phones. Tim knew better than to believe that they were actually paying attention, they had the same posture that a lot of lookouts did, but whatever. No one would believe them, anyways.

He gave her a few more minutes before he adjusted his hold on Damian and offered a hand up.

Ladybug took it with a faint smile and he pulled her to her feet. She grabbed their discarded suitcase and they started walking aimlessly.

“Okay, we’re here… but we still need a cover.”

“Um… you’re the one that’s good at hacking, right?”

He nodded. Damian reached a hand out of the blanket and began touching his hair. He was too busy wondering what to do to really mind.

“Great. How about… we’re the kid’s siblings?”

“We can pass as his parents. I mean, it’d be a teen pregnancy but it wouldn’t be bad,” said Tim. “We still had him at eighteen-ish.”

She shook her head. “He’s darker than both of us, it wouldn’t make sense. Maybe I had him with some… darker guy and now you’re my boyfriend? No, that feels racist for some reason. I’m his half-sister, our parents died, and you’re my boyfriend.”

Tim frowned. “Why am I always the boyfriend? He’s my brother.”

“Well, frankly, you look nothing like him. He and I, at least, have similar noses.”

He scowled. It made sense but it still annoyed him. “Fine. I’m your husband, though. I want to have at least some rights.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Guess that’s good for tax benefits, too. Better get me a cute ring.”

“Okay, but the diamond is going to be fake.”

“Cheapskate.”

“Cheskae,” Damian said, yanking Tim’s hair like the little shit he was.

“See, he agrees,” Ladybug said with a victorious grin.

They went up to a hotel (Red Robin had tried to talk her into a five-star one but she managed to bring it down to a two-star when showing him the cost) and tried to reserve a room.

“May I have a name for the reservation?” The nice lady at the front counter said, smiling at them.

Red Robin glanced up from where he was awkwardly bouncing with the baby in his arms to shoot her A Look. It was unfortunate that she had no clue what the look meant. She considered the question for a moment before eventually saying:

“Dupain-Cheng.”

Red Robin relaxed a little so she was pretty sure she had gotten it right.

She hesitantly took the baby from him -- the kid had apparently forgotten about his earlier freakout because he was just as weirdly still as he had been back in Gotham -- so he could pay.

The moment they got into the hotel room she fell back in the bed. The baby squirmed a little on her stomach to get comfortable before joining her in her laziness.

Red Robin sighed and sat next to them, resting his head in his hands. “Okay. We’re going to need supplies for him. Do you want to do a supply run or should I?”

She shrugged a little, much to the baby’s dismay. Have you ever had a baby babble angrily at you? It’s very cute.

“You’re so helpful. Thanks, Ladybug.”

“No problem,” she said as if she couldn’t hear the blatant sarcasm in his tone. Then she pushed herself up to squint at him, the baby sliding down to her lap smoothly. “Wait, are we still going to be using codenames?”

He frowned. “Obviously.”

“... for fifteen years?”

“Obviously.”

She rolled her eyes. “Great, so when we take the kid back we’re going to explain to him that, on top of all the adjustment of moving to a different dimension, he needs to now use a different name for you, and messing up isn’t an option. Also, I feel like people are going to question two random people called ‘Red Robin’ and ‘Ladybug’ at some point.”

Red Robin frowned, clearly thinking hard, and then nodded slightly. He removed his glasses and looked at her with an awkward smile. “This is Damian, I’m Tim.”

She raised her eyebrows because he was looking at her expectantly and she really didn’t know what he wanted from her. “Uh… am I supposed to know you?”

“I mean… kinda?”

She squinted at him for a while before shrugging. “That one guy? Timothy --.”

“Yep!”

“-- Chalamet?”

He looked oddly hurt now. “You think I look like Timothy Chalamet?”

“I mean you both have the same sickly Victorian boy look about you.”

“... for the sake of our fake marriage I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that. I’m Tim Drake.” She still didn’t show any hint of recognition (probably because she didn’t recognize him) so he groaned and motioned to Damian. “This is Damian Wayne.”

“Wayne? Like Waynetech?”

“There you go,” he said.

She grinned at him. “It’s not my fault you made me guess.”

He huffed a little. “Alright, fine, then who are you, then?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“... who’s that?”

“A nobody. Like secret identities should be,” she said, giving him a smug look.

He rolled his eyes. “I feel like this is going to be a long fifteen years.”

“Shouldn’t have dragged me into your mess, now you gotta deal with the consequences.”

He stuck his tongue out at her. She returned it. So did the baby.

It was decided that Marinette should be the one to go on a supply run since Tim needed to start making identities for them.

… it would be a lot easier if there wasn’t a baby crawling all over him. She’d better get a crib while she was out because he didn’t know if he could deal with a baby smashing the keys for much longer.

“Dami -- no, stop, I -- I swear to god -- you’re a baby okay I can literally just drop you and you would -- please stop --,” Tim cut off his irritated rambling when Damian nearly got them on a good few government watchlists by smashing the keys at the wrong time.

Fed up, he grabbed the kid and set him on the ground. It’ll probably be fine. He only needed to do a few quick things, anyways.

He was shocked to find that there was a version of him in this world. The idea of a Tim who didn’t do vigilante-work was foreign to him. He had apparently stayed with his parents and was now working towards a business degree. This dimension’s Tim wasn’t nearly as famous as he was and the three of them had landed in Texas so it was unlikely that he would be recognized but he would prefer not using the name if he didn’t have to. Just to be safe.

Damian didn’t exist, as far as he could tell, but Bruce Wayne did and he was still famous so it wouldn’t be a good idea to use his last name either.

There was a version of Marinette, too, but she was currently in France helping her parents run their bakery. Very little chance of her getting recognized.

So, he decided to use her last name for all of them. Quick and easy. He’d have to tell her that he changed her birthplace to New Jersey when she got back to the hotel but he doubted she’d have much of a problem with that.

… oh. His phone was ringing. Apparently he could tell her now.

He picked up and wedged it between his ear and his shoulder as he worked at finding them a few social security numbers to… ‘borrow’.

“Yeah?”

“How big is the baby?”

Tim blinked a few times. “... baby sized?”

“No. Like… what size diaper do you think he would use?”

He scoffed. “Do I look like I would know the diaper sizes?”

“Do I look like I do? Just… how old do you think he is?”

Tim looked over the edge of the bed to where Damian was currently shaking Kaalki like she was a maraca. Kaalki, for her part, only looked vaguely annoyed as she bounced around in his tiny baby fists.

“I dunno. Like… a year-ish? Just buy one of everything we can see what fits.”

“Fucking hell I forgot you were rich. You said a year? I’m using that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay -- OH SHIT DAMIAN NO!”

He tumbled out of bed and raced over to Damian before he could stick his finger in a socket. He didn’t really know if that was enough to get shocked but this was not the way to find out.

Damian was apparently very annoyed about him foiling his attempt at dying because he squirmed around in his grip and yelled incomprehensibly. Tim ignored the baby fists trying to knock his teeth out -- his teeth had faced far worse before -- and scooted across the ground to his phone.

“-- to god, Tim, what happened if you don’t answer I will run over there --.”

“It’s fine. Just get… you know the things that cover electrical sockets? Make sure to get some of those,” he said, tipping his head back to rest against the bed so he could kind of relax despite the ball of anger in his arms.

Marinette groaned. “Fuck, you can’t just scare me like that.”

“Yeah, you were the one that suffered the most during that.”

She scoffed but he swore he could hear a tiny laugh hidden under her mumbled ‘shut up’.

He smiled a little.

She didn’t hang up, probably expecting to ask him something else soon, so he listened in idly as he tried to calm Damian down enough to start working again.

She mumbled to herself while she looked for things. Some of the speech was normal but most of it was pretty much as incomprehensible as Damian’s babbling (admittedly, it probably didn’t help that he was only half paying attention).

“... tty trai… now?... oh... alright… oh, great, does she work here?” She murmured to herself. Then, louder: “Hey, lady --!”

“We’re in Texas,” he reminded her. “People are expected to be more polite down here.”

He was too late. Someone started yelling on Marinette’s end and, if the tiny sigh of annoyance was anything to go off of, it wasn’t her.

The yelling lasted approximately five minutes before someone intervened.

He heard her speak in rapid Spanish to the employee and, to his surprise, he could actually understand every word of them talking shit about the lady who had screamed at her. He didn’t know what to think of this outside of pulling the phone away from his mouth so he could try and roll an r. He was delighted to find that he had gained that ability as well. He continued rolling his tongue.

Damian stopped his squirming and gave Tim a confused look… and then he started to giggle. He twisted around in Tim’s lap and started trying to mimic the sound.

He tried to hide his smile as the two of them kept making r sounds at each other. He didn’t think he’d succeeded at keeping his face relatively neutral, but he didn’t really mind.

~~~~~

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess

#made a complex story with distinct arcs and heist vibes #and then released a story about two idiots raising a kid #and somehow i was surprised that people liked the second one better #i know im good at fluff its just really draining to do it all the time #but i rely so much on feedback at this point for serotonin that now I'm doing both #idk what ill do when school starts up tbh #into the unknown #maribat #timari #timmari #timinette #shutterbug #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #marinette dupain cheng

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itsnothappening · 2 years

Text

the story of love: first date | daminette

summary: damian and marinette on their first date.

ao3 | wattpad | masterlist | prompts | series masterlist

first - previous - next

Marinette was getting ready for her date with Damian.

She bit her lip nervously as she appraised herself in the mirror. She was wearing a white top with a belted skirt paired with black heels – not too high, mind you, she would trip and fall otherwise – and her hair was down.

“Do you think I look fine?” she asked Penny, who was sitting by her.

Penny smiled at her. “I think you look wonderful Marinette. And I also know the date is going to go swimmingly because you have put so much effort and time into it.”

She had answered Marinette’s next question before Marinette could even ask it.

Marinette nodded, slightly more reassured as she picked up her purse and checked the time.

She yelped when she realized she had only 20 minutes to get to the Manor. “Penny,” she said frantically, “We have to go! We’re going to be late and then everything will be ruine-”

“Marinette, calm down,” said Penny, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we aren’t going to be late. Let’s go.”

18 minutes and 39 seconds later (Marinette had been counting each second), Marinette was waiting in the Wayne’s living room with literally the entire Wayne family.

Needless to say, Marinette was panicking internally.

“So,” said Jason, breaking the silence, “Where are you taking Demon-spawn Pixie?”

Marinette’s lips tugged up as she remembered where they were going. “Can’t say,” she told Jason flippantly.

“Aw, why?” whined Dick.

She grinned cheekily. “Can’t have you spying on us, can I now?”

The crestfallen looks on their faces (specifically Dick, Jason, Tim, Barbara and Stephanie) told Marinette her guess had been on the mark.

Stephanie opened her mouth to say something but before she could Damian came walking out.

Marinette had to remind herself how to breathe when she saw him. He was wearing a casual pair of jeans with a white shirt and black jacket on top of it.

It was simple, but it didn’t make him look any less handsome.

“Will the two of you stop staring at each other?” said Stephanie, trying to hide her snickers.

Marinette immediately blushed at being caught. “I uh-” she stuttered.

Any excuse she would make up was cut off when Jason walked up to Damian and glared at him threateningly. “Now, Demon-spawn. Let me make one thing clear. Hurt my Pixie Pop and I’ll make you regret it. Do you understand?”

Jason was so close to Damian he was almost nose-to-nose with him.

In response, Damian scoffed at him. “Of course, I won’t hurt her Todd, are you insane?”

Marinette stood up hurriedly before things got out of hand – it was never a good idea to leave Jason and Damian alone for a long time.

Dragging Damian away from Jason, she smiled nervously. “We’re leaving now, andwe’llseeyoulaterbye!”

As they were walking down the (enormous amount) steps, they heard Barbara call out, “Oi Damian! Curfew is midnight – better be home if you don’t want a search party!”

Marinette giggled when Damian muttered, “They’ll be following us right after we leave – it doesn’t even matter.”

“And no funny business, you two!” yelled Tim, amusement clear in his voice.

Marinette resisted the urge melt into nothingness.

As they sat comfortably in the car, Damian apologized for his family’s behavior. “I am so sorry, Angel. I didn’t think they would act like that.”

Marinette shook her head at him. “It’s perfectly fine, Dami, it was actually kind of funny.”

“No, it wasn’t,” said Damian obstinately.

“Yes, it was,” Marinette teased him. “Admit it.”

Damian shook his head and changed the subject. “Where are we going?”

Marinette grinned mysteriously at him. “It’s a surprise.”

Because Marinette had asked Damian out, the two of them decided she would organize this date. The next date – if there was one (hopefully, in Marinette’s opinion) – would be organized by Damian.

“Please?” asked Damian.

Marinette giggled and shook her head.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Damian was resisting the urge to ask Marinette again and again where they were going.

It didn’t do much to squash his nerves, though. He really hoped he did everything correct, though he suspected that it was already over because of his idiot siblings.

“We’re here!” said Marinette brightly as the car slowed to a stop.

Damian leaned forward eagerly. “Really?”

“Yep!” Marinette grinned as she opened the car door.

Damian looked around eagerly as he walked out. He was pleasantly surprised to see they were at annual carnival that Gotham hosted.

“Well?” asked Marinette. “What do you think?”

Damian smiled at her and honestly said, “I love it. Though, I’ve never been to a carnival,” he added as an afterthought.

Marinette gaped at him in horror. “You’ve never, ever, ever been to a carnival?”

“No.” Damian admitted, wondering if she was disappointed in him.

He was surprised when she beamed at him and grabbed his hand. “Well, then, I should show you around, shouldn’t I?”

First, they played some of the carnival games – all of which they won, of course. They were looking for another one – hand-in-hand, though none of them noticed – when Marinette squealed and pointed at a teddy bear hanging on one of the stands.

“Oh my god, Dami!” she squealed. “That’s so adorable!”

Even Damian had to agree with her, it was adorable.

“Can we please, please, please play that game?” Really, how was he supposed to say no when she looked at him with those eyes?

15 minutes later, Damian was presenting the bear to a squealing Marinette, who promptly tackled him into a hug – squeezing the bear in between them.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she kept on saying.

Damian chuckled at her enthusiasm and pointed to an eating stand nearby. “You’re welcome, Angel. Shall we go and eat something now?”

Marinette’s eyes lit up as she saw where he was pointing. “The food stands! Come on, I want you to try so many things!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the stand.

By the time they were done eating, Damian had to admit, carnival food was definitely amazing. The two of them had eaten a variety of sweets and something called king cakes. They had tried 5 different flavors; cheesecake, blueberry, Chantilly, cheese and cinnamon.

Damian had to say cinnamon was his favorite flavor.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Marinette asked him something. “Do you want to go on the Ferris Wheel?”

He nodded eagerly.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Marinette was having the time of her life.

She could safely say she had never had so much fun before. Plus, this was the perfect ending to a date. A ride on the Ferris Wheel.

She and Damian were chatting about some of the games they had played, when Marinette gasped, awed by the view they had.

She stopped talking immediately, hoping to soak up the view in the few precious seconds she would get. Only, she didn’t get a few seconds. The Ferris Wheel stopped.

“What’s going on?” Marinette held onto Damian’s arm to steady herself.

Damian smirked at her. “I paid the guy downstairs 50 extra dollars if he would stop it for 5 minutes when we were at the top because I knew you would love the view.”

She beamed at him. That was so thoughtful of him.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said taking it all in. The masses of the people, the tall buildings, the surreal color of the sky, everything.

“Yes, it is,” said Damian’s voice distantly.

Only, she didn’t know he was looking at her.

◇─◇──◇─◇

As Marinette dropped Damian off, the two of them stood awkwardly on the curb. Eventually, Damian ventured out to make conversation, “I really enjoyed the date, Angel,” he offered.

Apparently, this was the right thing to say because Marinette smiled hopefully at him. “You did?”

Smiling, he nodded and asked, “Would you like to go on another?”

Marinette beamed at him and nodded. “I’d love to!”

Damian couldn’t help but smile dopily at her too.

As he walked into the Manor, Damian was bombarded with his siblings (and not-siblings).

“How did the date go?” “Did you have fun?”

Damian ignored all the questions and just smiled.

“Oh my god,” Everyone stopped talking when Tim said that. “Demon-spawn’s in love – look, he’s not even listening to us!”

Damian eventually told them what happened – not in too much detail, though.

And he also endured their teasing but the thing was…

Damian didn’t give a damn.

#daminette #maridami #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #first dates #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #carnivals #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra wayne

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minimoxha · 3 years

Text

Batfam Valentines Day Special

The batfamily takes Valentine’s Day very...very seriously.

Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wyane, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wyane, Y/n L/n(Batmom), Alfred Pennyworty

Warning(s): None

1,579 Words

Not edited.

(A/N I know Valentine’s Day passed but I got this idea after it so...deal with it.)

All throughout Wayne manor, everyone was preparing for the day known as Valentine’s Day. They were moving so fast it made it seem like they were competing. Probably because...they were. Why? Because today was Valentine’s Day and they all wanted to give you the best day but every one of them wanted to do different things. So when Jason first joined the family, it became a competition to see which one could give you the best time with them.

You woke up to the sweet smell of French toast, a smile Turing on your face. You knew what day it was, possibly one of your favorite days other than Christmas or your birthday of course. Damian was the first to come in your room, Laing down and cuddling with you. No matter how people saw him on the outside, he was a soft and cuddly bear on the inside. “Good morning Mother. You’ll spend time with me first, right? I am your favorite so it’s only natural I go first.” Damien Gloated, making you emit a small giggle. “Dami, I told you that it was dickies turn this year.” You said making the young boy groan in response and get ready to lift up but relaxed his body again once you started to run your hands through his hair. “Who’s cooking for me Dami?” Damien answered your question by counting to five on his fingers. Once he got to five, Jason came through the door holding a tray of food, Bruce with a card and flowers, dick holding cups and apppe juice, (Apple juice is better than orange.), and Tim holding coffee cups.

All four of the men walked into the room, Joining you and Damian on the bed, not before saying good morning to you. “Flowers? For me?” You teased, smelling the roses. “They were from me” Bruce admitted, a smirk crossing his face making Jason roll his eyes. “So who gets you first, ma?” Jason asked. “Hm...Dickie.” You smiled at your oldest, making him mirror his expression and everyone else groan. It was sweet really, instead of spending time with their friends or significant other they wanted to give the day to you. All of you had busy schedules so these were one of the days they could spend a lot of fun time with their mommy. After everyone finished eating, dick gave you an outfit and waited outside your door for you to change. “So you know that musical you wanted to see? Well I Got tickets, the best seats!” He cheered. You squeezed from inside the room, quickly opening your door. “My outfit looks great on you.” He smiled. You were wearing High waisted black pants and a gray hoodie with no hood that was a little too big for you.

Dick was right, they were amazing seats. The both of you were in Love with the musical and tried to keep yourselves from singing but failed, earn dirty looks from the people around you. (I didn’t make more because idk but if you want short tories on how the details went during everyones time with Y/n tell me))After you left the theater, the both of you got slushies and cinnamon rolls (Even though it was 11Am, your dentist is pissed rn) and then he returned you home and went to his brothers ti gloat and tell him how the defenitly won and had the best time with you. Next was Jason, right when you walked in he got you and took you back out. “What do you have planned fir me today, JayJay?” You asked following him after he grabbed a bag onto his motorcycle . “You can choose between a Monster Truck Rally and Paint balling Ma.” He said. “Paint-balling” Nodding, he drove off to a paint ball arena with you holding onto his back. He arrived at the place and signed in. The both of you were taken into the back where you got a run down and gear. “Dickies going to be pissed that his outfit is covered in paint.” You giggled, putting on your gear along with Jason and listening to the rules. You didn’t follow them though. The both of you DEMOLISHED every kid, adult, and teen, only getting a few paintballs on yourself. Then it came down to you and Jason. He stalked around you, trying to be be intimidating but failing with a smile. “Theres only room for one paintballer in this town” He said, faking a country accent.

“Well then, It’ll have to be me!” You yelled, shooting three at him then ducking under a rock. He successfully dodged your attacks making the game go on for what felt like forever for the bystanders but just a couple minutes for you. It seemed like it was going to go on forever until Jason tripped on a rock and fell, giving you the chance to shoot him right in his butt. “Suck it, Jay!” You yelled, doing your victory dance in front of him. Jason smiled, he loved seeing you in this mood. With work, and watching from the batcomptr, you were either on edge or stressed out of your mind, And once you got competitive, you stayed competitive until you won. Constantly, challenging your family to games. “Ill beat you next Time, Ma’” Jason laughed, fist bumping you and standing up to sling his arm around your shoulder and walk to the changing rooms with you. (Not the same one) “Guess what we got the Replacement and Demon Spawn to do for ya.” “Hm I Don't know Jay, What.”

“I got them to share your time and have a picnic with you.” You sighed then answered, “Jay, I’ll be surprised if there still is a picnic by the time we get there.” Jason laughed at your Joke, getting the both of you on his bike and driving to a beautiful forest. The sun was cutting through the trees who's leaves were falling off. There was an opening, where Damian had lanterns all around while the picnic blanket was in the middle of a flower bed. You got off of Jasons bike and saw through the trees, Damian and Tim arguing, on the verge of turning it into a full blown fist fight. Before things escalated, you stepped in and let Jason leave the three of you alone. “Boys, please don't fight today” With one last glare, they settled down. Damian opened the light brown basket and took your favorite dishes out. “We helped Alfred make all of your favorites, Mother. I hope you enjoy them” Tim opened the Saran Wrap. “Yeah Mom, I hope you like it.” Damian put a couple heart-shaped sandwiches on your plate and poured the drinks while Tim showed you this cool coding project he had been walking on. “So mother, isn’t this the best out of both of the trips they took you on?” Damian asked, smiling slightly after biting into a cupcake and clearly enjoying it. “I had an Amazing Day with all of you, I won't pick favorites.” You smiled and ruffled both of the boys’ hair. They were amazing children no matter they're faults. The rest of the picnic was amazing, the both of you eating until you couldn’t eat anymore and Joking around. For the first time in a while, you saw a Huge smile on both of the boys’ face. After, Tim called Alfred and he picked the both of you and took you to get your hair done, nails done and a nice dress that they (surprisingly) agreed on. They showed up at the manor and rushed Batmom to the backyard where bruce was standing in a candlelit circle. Inside it , was a couple speakers and Bruce right in the middle. His hair was slicked back and he was wearing a nice suit that matched your dress. He raised his hand out toward you and you excitedly took it.

“May I have this dance?” He smiled, pulling you into his chest. His cologne, being all that you could smell. “you may” The both of you danced like nobody was watching, because nobody was. It wasn’t like the dances you would have at formal events, where you had to dance like professionals. No, it was your own little dance party with only the two of you. You didn’t have to worry about people watching or taking pictures. After about 5 songs, the dancing stopped and Bruce slid a ring on your finger. It was a crown with the tips and middles having diamonds inside of them. “Bruce...this is beautiful” you smiled as you looked at it. Bruce snuck his hands around your waist and put his chin on top of your head. Him being the tall man that he was, he had no problems with hugging or cuddling with you while standing. “Let’s be honest My love, I gave you the best day , yes?” He smirked. Bruce was always very cocky but you found yourself more attracted to him after each word he uttered to you. “You’ll never know, Dear” You teased making him playfully sigh. “I’m the worlds greatest detective, I already know.”

“God, I love all of you so Much” Like every year, Each one of your boys always found a way to surprise you or just make your life better. They meant the world to you and if you could keep life like this you would. This was perfect. Absolute perfection

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friggsdc · 3 years

Text

Title: little delinquent pt i

part i | part ii

Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort

word count: 3000~

It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” he tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

a/n: Terry as a baby tho with an overly protective big sis/mom reader… I can’t get this out of my head lol. Also batfam are very close with bat!sis reader in this, so lotsa fluffy sibling intimacy. Because I want the fluff haha.

(it actually turned into more plot than fluff sighs)

idk pairings/haven’t thought of that, I just didn’t know how to tag it so i used pairing tags??? lol despite that, I don’t feel comfortable putting Damian, Bruce, nor Terry in the tags ee;;;; Jason’s not in this chapter but he’s in the tags anyway sighs, he comes in around ch3.

A light lit up on one of the many monitors in the cave, a box popping up not a moment later with the alert, attracting the costumed people in the room. Bruce was second to the computers, Tim immediately making certain that the alert said what he thought it said, “Good. She’s back.” He sighed heavily, relieved before trudging towards the car port. Sure he was upset, they all were, but at the moment they were just glad their sister was back and alive. She’d get quite the talking to about scaring them all like this, especially from Tim and Bruce, later.

It almost felt like an eternity as her bike came into view, skidding to a comfortable stop with minimal sound. She took a moment to adjust herself, and they didn’t miss the small form clinging to her frontside. It was aggravating how slow and careful she was being, how slowly she got up from her bike as if the young child she had with her was the most fragile treasure. She shifted so that the bundle was curled up in her arms, messy black hair hiding most features as their face buried in her shoulder, frightened. The kid had to be about a year old or so, they assumed, quiet and trembling in her hold.

Damian stood next to their father, annoyance on his face as he bit back harsh words. Of all the people in the world, like Alfred, his sister was someone he never wanted to hurt. He couldn’t even imagine such a thing. “You turned off your comms,” Bruce stated, she only nodded, not usually one for hiding what she was up to. He went to open his mouth again, but Damian’s cold tone beat him to it, “you were missing all night.” She nodded at him again, lips pursed to keep herself from saying anything.

She was struggling with her feelings right now, incredibly upset at the way her family was staring at her, as if she herself were a child. It was really hard for her right now to be the loving big sister she’s always been since coming to live at the manor. All she wanted to do was forgive them for their mistrust, or to tell them everything to take that distrust away. She hated feeling like a bad guy, and she did her best to stand firm on how she felt, but her resolve was crumbling fast in their presence.

You couldn’t help it, your family had that kind of effect on you, always weak to them and their needs.

You would always forgive them. Always.

Tim was first to rush over, quickly pulling you into a hug (careful of the boy), and a slight tremble in his tensed hands kept you from pulling back. He rested his head on the shoulder opposite the kid’s head, arms refusing to move as the other three strode over. “Stupid, where were you?” Tim mumbled into your shoulder, your response was to bury your cheek in his hair, “I was… we were so worried. You don’t just go dark on us like that, especially not on me, you know that.”

He shifted his head to look you in the face, foreheads pressing together. Reaching up, he gently took off your domino mask so your eyes could meet, him doing his best to stare you down. A silent conversation began, your somewhat desperate look of, ‘I’m sorry, I have my reasons,’ and his shoulders sagging a little, ‘I’m still not happy about this.’

It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment, the latter speaking up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” Dick tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

“Hey, uhm…” Dick coughed nervously now, stomach flipping and looked between Tim and Bruce, “has she… ever made a face like that before?” Tim frowned, shaking his head, “you actually upset her. That’s an accomplishment, Richard.” Tim went to change so he could follow you, wanting to know everything about what you had been doing and where you had been. “I… meant it to be humorous…” Damian just scowled at him, “it was in poor taste, Grayson,” he turned, wanting to change before following you and Tim, curious. Dick just sighed into his hand, knowing he’d have to make it up to you later, or the others would hold it against him.

“Babybat, too? Ugh.”

Usually you handled his joking around without much issue, what the heck?

“Good job. Whelmed yet?,” Bruce turned back towards the bat computer, intent on discovering things himself (and to alert the others, still out looking, that you were safe). After all, there was only going to be so much you’d say (call it a father’s intuition). Dick frowned at his father making fun of him, unamused, “...haha” He grumbled and went to change, following after his siblings with a yawn finding it’s escape (they’d been frantic all night, looking everywhere).

“You understand we’re not letting you out of our sight after this, right?” his ears perked up at Damian’s tone, uncertain if he was joking or not. Rounding the corner into a smaller sitting room, he stopped before leaning broad shoulders against the doorframe. “That’s terrifying, Dami.” Dick grinned at the glare his youngest brother sent him, eyes turning to you and the child on your lap apologetically, “Sorry, about before.”

You only waved your hand as if to dismiss the earlier conversation, a sign that Dick took to push off the wall and walk over for a better view, “So, Terrence, huh?” You only nodded, stuck in your thoughts, thinking things over. All your attention was kept on the child snuggled up against you, staring at the other’s in the room with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Dick’s brow raised now that he got a good look.

“Okay, I know I said I was sorry, but…” Damian’s fingers strained to not curl into a fist as he gave Dick a hard, pointed stare, but he didn’t go farther as your hand patted his arm. “Black hair and blue eyes,” Tim sighed at Dick, “I’m just saying.” He shrugged, stopping himself from wondering aloud if the family was cursed.

You could only huff in exasperation as you buried your face in Terrence’s hair, the child wiggling to look up with huge blues. You smiled down at him and leaned back into the cushions, letting him rest against you at an incline, bouncing your leg lightly. His small hands readjusted to grasp onto your shirt, head using your chest as a pillow while he kept watching the men and scrunched his nose.

“So, where’d he come from?” Dick sat across form you, seeing as Damian was sitting next to you on the small couch, Tim in the chair to your other side (all your recon gear was in a pile on the floor next to you). A frown settled on your face, staring at the floor as you kept your face buried in the child’s hair, then shook your head. Stubborn. Tim frowned at you and the child, arms crossed in contemplation, and Damian was staring at the child wide-eyed in amazement (he was so inexperienced). Dick crossed his arms and leaned back, biting the inside of his cheek, “…hey,” your attitude was worrying him, you’d never been this closed off before.

Your eyes shifted from the floor to look at Dick, cycling to Damian and then to Tim, straight faced with having made your decision (even though you had already made it hours earlier). Looking to your family, you took a deep breath to brace yourself, “he’s mine.” All three of the men stiffened, Damian shaking his head, “you weren’t pregnant. Impossible.”

When your eyes met his, he squinted slightly, your head tilting forwards, his turning away, “tt.” Dick was a bit jealous at how you had such a strong connection with Tim and Damian, wishing he could join in on the exchange of expressions (unfortunately, his innate big brother intuition with his siblings only took him so far. Living in Blüdhaven meant he wasn’t as involved in family as he wanted).

Tim was being incredibly careful as he sized you up, taking in the kid’s appearance and the way you were keeping your eyes on the men like a hawk. Damian had relaxed next to you, shifting his weight to lean against your side as he began poking and prodding at the child. In turn, Terrence just tried to grab at Damian’s fingers with his small hands, at times trying to bite him when his finger booped him on the nose (Damian noticed and started turning it into a game, as if he were playing chicken with a cat and it’s claws).

Terrence became a bit more comfortable, too focused on Damian’s antics, and he let out a small laugh, causing Damian to freeze in place. He hadn’t expected it, too absorbed in the game he had made up and instantly his ears turned red, suddenly self-conscious. The finger that had been frozen in place was hovering dangerously close to Terrence’s face and, taking the invitation, the child bit down. He would have yelped if he hadn’t been so well trained, barely able to contain himself, Damian jerked his finger out of the child’s biting range.

Dick cracked a smile and you did your best to not laugh, Tim however was studying his youngest brother, it was cute when he acted his age.

“So, he’ll be staying here then?” You nodded at Dick, “think B’s gonna be okay with this?” you shrugged, it wouldn’t matter, you’d refuse to give the kid up, “So…” Dick shifted, failing to keep his face straight, “Damian’s not the baby anymore.” As wary of the kid as he was, he couldn’t pass up the moment to tease his favorite brother.

“…Grayson,” Damian glared at Dick before reluctantly looking at the kid, silently agreeing. He wasn’t the baby anymore, “we… will need to outfit a nursery room, then.” Dick couldn’t hide his smile, letting it spread on his face at his younger brother’s quick acceptance, “guess I’m gonna hafta visit more often then if I want to be the best uncle.” Both Tim and Damian’s heads turned in unison at Dick, eyes narrowing in a way that made Dick want to step back, nervous.

“No way, I’ll be--” Tim was cut off,

“As if you could be better than me, Grayson,” he sent a pointed look at Tim, “I will be the best uncle.”

You were just glad your brothers were taking this so well.

“Sure.” Tim deflated a bit as Bruce walked into the room, looking at his boys before turning to you and the child, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak with—” Just like Tim, he was cut off, “I won’t tell you anything about him.” Bruce frowned at your stubbornness, not liking that this was how you chose to respond to the situation. “You’re not getting out of this, we’re going to have a talk,” he stopped himself, correcting his remark after a moment’s thought, “…a few talks, actually.”

“No.” you frowned and he crossed his arms with a more serious ‘I’m your father, do as I say,” look about him. “It’s not up for debate.”

The brothers just looked back and forth, opting to stay quiet instead of getting involved. It did no good when the two of you got stubborn with one another.

“You can’t take him from me.” Your father’s stare softened slightly, shaking his head, “we need to discuss that, too.” Honestly, he wasn’t as interested in whether or not you kept the child, the problem was how quiet you were being about him. Something wasn’t right about the situation, and his preliminary searches came up with nothing.

He only had a first name, it wasn’t much to go on.

Terrence was staring at Bruce, one of his chubby little hands left your top to shove his thumb in his mouth. The unwavering stare the kid was giving him… if he didn’t know any better, Bruce would think he was being challenged. It took all of Bruce’s will power not to look down at Terrence, he wasn’t great with children, let alone an infant. He was broken from his thoughts of whether or not the kid actually was challenging him, or if he just had no clue about what to do in this situation (he didn’t want to admit it though) when you finally replied.

“You won’t find out where I was.” It was a statement.

He studied and trained hard to make hiding from anyone and anything look natural, you seemed to have been born with the (suddenly annoying) skill.

“Your thoroughness is worrisome.” He sighed, feeling this was going to be a bit… difficult.

The siblings all shared an amused laugh before Dick got back to his feet, another yawn escaping, “I’ll be in my old room, need some post-mission Z’s.” He felt like a zombie walking out of the room, hoping he’d beat the sun before it got too high. “See you and the kid in the… morning…?” He had almost no interest in trying to make his brain work, already resigned to bed.

“Then, you as well.” Bruce nodded to Damian and with a sigh, he stood up, “alright, father. Good night,” before Damian could leave the room, you were suddenly standing by his side. “Rest sounds good right now,” you avoided Bruce’s disappointed look, watching as Tim rocked forward from the chair to his feet before stretching.

Giving out a small hum, you quickly retreated into the hall with Damian, waiting for neither Tim or Bruce (mainly Bruce). As you left, Bruce turned to Tim, questioning what was going on, “Sorry, but…” he started, “I have no clue about this one…” Tim scratched the back of his head, staring at the floor sheepishly. He felt at a loss, not having been given the silent treatment by you since you were kids.

You were literally in each other’s business all the damned time.

Damian walked comfortably next to you, eyes drooping (even though he’d never admit it), and you dropped him off at his bedroom door.

“Night, Dami.”

“Good night,” you gave him a small hug, ruffling his hair as his ears flushed for the second time that night. “You’re lucky I’m going to sleep…” he huffed, hair now a complete mess. He entered his room, leaving you alone to the halls, “I think a quick shower would be nice…” you were walking towards your room now, intent on getting comfortable and relaxing before getting some shut eye. Dick was right, it was an exhausting night.

Hand on the door of your room, staring at the child struggling to stay awake in your arms, you shook your head.

It was worth it.

And you’d do it again. Every time.

Tim entered the room hesitantly, no knocking, he was certain you wouldn’t answer, anyway, but he checked to see if it was okay before closing the door behind him. Looking around to gather his bearings, as you had the light off, curtains drawn, and it was nominally darker than the halls, he spotted the top of your head over the edge of the bed. Quickly, quietly, he crept over to stand a few feet from you, but your eyes stayed on the sleeping child in your lap, refusing to look up.

He settled himself closely next to you, sliding down to sit on the floor and leaning against the side of the bed, shoulder rubbing your own. He looked to the child in your lap as well, then gave a small hum before lightly nudging you.

He wasn’t able to see well, but after adjusting to the lack of light, it became easier to understand his surroundings. It became easier to see your features, to see the kid in your arms, and it was easier to grasp the way you frowned in anticipation when turning to look him in the face.

He wasn’t certain why, but he braced for something, suddenly uneasy.

Your lips moved to form the word, no sound coming out, too terrified the walls would listen in, ‘Cadmus.’

Tim’s eyes widened in panic, the child’s big blues flashing in his mind, and it suddenly felt like everything was coming together. It was the one piece of useful information he was missing, the one piece that you made certain they wouldn’t be able to follow when you disappeared for the night. He looked to the sleeping child in your arms, then back up at you, brain going into overload. How...?

He understood now.

His hand found yours, squeezing tightly, reassuringly.

You slumped against his side, relieved.

He understood.

#tim drake x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #bat!sis

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iphoenixrising · 3 years

Text

More on the Robinpile Soulmate au

You know, babes, people and their wonderful, encouraging comments on that work in progress are fucking beautiful, so.

I’m going to put a little snippet down that’s probably going to rip at your heart strings and spoil the story a bit for you if you decide to read this small bit. So, just FYI Spoiler.

But, if you’d like a little more on how that story is going to go, welp. here you are *bows*

Note: not formatted or beta read.

After so much careful planning and preparation, Plan C is a go.

Robin is running over rooftops, scanning every shadow for a hint of Red Robin in Gotham. Nightwing and the Red Hood, Black Bat, Batgirl, and Signal are all in crucial parts of the city, on the lookout as well.

He, Jason, and Dick have spent weeks preparing for this, hoping their last-ditch effort would be enough to convince Tim his time as Robin hadn’t been in vain, that he was still, would always be a Bat.

That is the goal tonight, not to try convincing him to give them a chance as soulmates because that is likely impossible, but they could start a much more important mission, to try in their own ways to give him back something they’d all taken. To try to show they knew what they’d done to him, and perhaps could start them on the road to make it right.

(He hopes there’s still a chance.)

Fabrication didn’t take long, but the coupe de gras certainly did.

Word Red Robin would be in Gotham on the down-low gave them a chance to finally act, and Oracle promised them she would do her best to stall their soulmate until Robin could get to him.

And it’s a pang of pain, a lightning strike, when he catches up with Red on the roof of the Wallstone Apartments. The memory of the cut grapple line in the foreground of Robin’s thoughts.

“Please help,” Robin makes himself fall off his grapple to his knees, bent over, panting. “Red Robin, please.”

(Not all of it is an act, not with how hard he was running to get to Red before he vanished into the city.)

The older vigilante kneels by him, out of immediate reach.

“Where?” Is Tim’s Red Robin voice, a hand almost reaches out, clenches tight at the last second to draw back, and Robin sees the aborted move, has a flare of hope.

“Cannery Row–” and Robin rocks to the side, looks up at that closed expression, dares to let the fluttering in his chest give him strength.

Hands and arms around him, steady him, pull him up on his knees. He thinks about the grip Red Robin has on his shoulders to hold him up, how tightly Tim is able to hold on. A finger taps his mask so the whiteouts slide up, taking away some of his nightvision. He’s not concussed, is perfectly fine, but through his research, an injured (seemingly) teammate in need is one of Tim’s weaknesses.

“Robin–”

“We need you, there is too much happening in the city tonight. We are all stretched too thin,” and there is nothing but the truth in his eyes, his demeanor, the way his gloved hand tightens in the cape over Red’s shoulder.

“All right, stay here, call Hood or N to pick you up–”

But Robin staggers to his feet, “I can’t. I must get you to the safehouse. Everything we need is there.”

He keeps himself from a triumphant bellow when Red Robin paces him to the edge of the roof, grapple already in hand.

Luckily, Cannery Row is close enough they don’t have to go far, just their past hanging between them, the connection that’s agonizingly cold and silent even when they’re side-by-side.

Robin lands it this time on the roof of the familiar warehouse. He taps the comm unit on as he touches down, hopes Red won’t notice.

They climb through a service elevator shaft, the two of them prying open the doors once they hit the underground floor.

“Give me the details,” Red’s whole body tense as they lower themselves down into the darkness.

“Black Bat is in the Central Business District, Hood is by the Iceburg Lounge, Nightwing is in the Diamond District. Father is tracking down leads for a case, Batgirl is on her way to the Steel Mill. We still have no coverage for the situation in the City Hall District, but you cannot go alone.”

When they get the doors pried open, when Red Robin was close enough for his cape to brush against his, the underground is revealed in shadows, just as he, Jason, and Richard left it a few hours earlier.

(This is a newer Batman Incorporated holding. Robin is banking on the fact Tim might not know this, his heart starting to beat harder, faster when they get closer to the first stage of Plan C.)

The lights kick on as planned, and in the large expansive floor, a drop-cloth-covered something waits.

That’s all.

Red Robin is looking around for anything, searching for traps, evidence, something to give him an idea of what he’s walking into, back pressed against the elevator before he starts to step out.

His vigilante instincts aren’t going crazy, but he stays close to the shadows as he sneaks out, leaving Robin behind in the elevator shaft to stay or follow.

(Where Damian has the next step in the plan waiting, a duffle bag he’d hidden in the panel of the elevator shaft. He’s fast and silent, throwing off his gloves, gauntlets, cape, and utility belt–)

His instincts still aren’t blaring dangerdangerdanger and his wrist computer isn’t picking up any foreign tech when Red Robin finally gets to the drop-cloth with a frown, wondering if they’ve come across a piece of shady tech or something.

Which is really the only explanation for why Robin would come to him at all, everyone else busy in Gotham notwithstanding.

He grips the cloth and pulls hard, muscles tense for whatever fuckey waits for him underneath.

When he gets an eyeful, his knees go terribly weak for a long painful moment as he stares at–

The Red Bird.

“Oh...fuck,” because his eyes are instantly hot and full, making him blink rapidly behind the whiteouts.

And it gleams in the overhead lights, red and black and shiny, looks like it did the day Bruce showed it to him in the Cave, ready to tear into the night.

His chest hitches and the possibility this could be a cruel joke hits him hard enough to choke.

(It’s because he rejected them. This sick shit is because he refused to let bygones be bygones.)

“Open the door, Tim. Everything you will need tonight is ready for you.”

It’s Dami’s voice echoing behind him, not Robin’s, and Red can’t bring himself to look away, too many things churning in his brain pan around the shock and anger and regret and grief. It might be stupid for him to reach out, to make his wobbly knees work, to open the door with a bigger hand than the last time he did this.

The inside is immaculate, even after years of disuse that Red Robin has to wonder how and why and what the absolute fuck is happening here?

But on the seat, folded neatly with all the bells and whistles, the shuriken R on the red tunic gleams bright in the halogen glow. His throat gets tight when he realizes it’s his original red, gold, and green–the colors of joy.

The colors from the best years, before it all started to go horribly wrong.

A noise comes out of him, something low and pained before he can rein it in, before he can remind himself he’s already moved past the point this should still mean something.

(But it does, it always has, it’s always meant so much, especially back when he was just a kid in a silent, empty house. It meant he had a place, a purpose, a presence at his back when things got to be too much, too overwhelming.)

And it’s stupid how helpless he is, how some part of him –small and weak as it is– can’t stop himself from reaching out to touch, to grab, to try to hold the fuck on.

(Not because of the name itself, never that, but everything he’d lost the second it had all been taken away. A final nail in the coffin, back to being that boy in an empty house.)

When he reaches for the suit, he holds it in both hands like he’s seeing things, chest stuttering on a breath when the scent of new leather and Kevlar proves he hasn’t been drugged or the sleep dep severely fucking with him.

Stepping from the shadows, no longer in Robin but a black suit of some nameless ninja, Damian Wayne is holding the hood and face covering he’s going to wear for the night, waits until he sees how his soulmate will react to this possibly disastrous plan.

He takes careful, tentative steps closer, taking in the hunched shoulders, bowed head, reaching into the Bond when it is ice cold in his chest.

“Wh-what the fuck is this?” Hoarse and painful from his, their Tim. And Dami’s hands automatically reach out in desperation to comfort before he remembers himself and hesitates.

Even if the Bond on his side is closed, cold, silent, Damian breathes in and attempts to send calming, soothing feelings, tries to let his own emotions, his hope, his affection, his protectiveness, his respect, his reverence for this man be available should the Bond at any moment open even slightly.

His soulmate’s rigid control to close himself off from them comes from years of training, of trying to protect himself is such a point of pain that some part of him thinks the three of them together could crash through if they tried, could break down those walls by force.

But he’s here tonight, had worked so hard with N and Hood and Father and Batgirl and Black Bat and Oracle to plan it all, set it all up, because he’s different now, has learned what his actions had cost him, has realized he can’t go back to the old ways.

Instead, he hopes they will have this last chance, will give Tim enough reasons to open up without fear, without pain.

(“It started with taking the cape,” Dick thinks aloud once the three of them are together after a long night, finding comfort, “he thinks he was kicked out of the family, so...this shouldn’t have been about soulmates in the first place.”

“I do not understand, Beloved,” Dami yawns, buried himself deeper against Jason’s chest.

“It’s not about gettin’ him like that, Sweets,” Jay replies, stroken a hand through his hair. “Might never happen…”

“But, we could give him back some of what we took. He could finally come home again–”

Dami’s eyes open, “we...could give him back his place in the family. Or at least try to do so. Is that what you are saying?”

“Hm,” Jay grunts out, arms stealthy when he wraps them both up, rolls to put himself in the middle, “sounds like we godda last resort, now don’t it?”

“We’ll call it Plan C since it’s our last chance.”)

Plan C, indeed.

“Tim,” and he gives them only a few feet of space, no domino, no hood, no face coverings, no masks, holds up both hands in what he hopes is a peaceful gesture.

Red Robin spins with a growl, muscles tense in fight or flight, ready to throw the fuck down because why fix up the Red Bird and bring it here of all places? What game is this? Haven’t they broken him enough?

But Damian isn’t in the tunic he was wearing less than ten minutes ago, and Red Robin stops cold at the obviously planned costume change. He takes a careful step away from the very familiar suit Damian is wearing now, one that looks crazily like B’s when he was Tengu, trying to get himself back enough to take the cowl from Jean-Paul back when shit was crazy but even then he still had Nightwing at his back and–and…

What is wrong with him? He hasn’t thought about any of this in years.

But still. But still, his eyes go to the gleaming Red Bird, and those better times well up from within, a place so deep, he’d convinced himself he’d left all of it behind.

(Nightwing and Spoiler, school and the Cave, new baddies in Gotham to throw more crazy into the Rogue Gallery mix, teenage angst and sidekick wins, people at his back and front even in the worst of times. Being Red for the Titans was good, so good, but not ever the same. Not like it was when he was that Robin.)

He’s still holding the tunic in both hands, fists clenching it tight like something would have to pry his hands open to take it away (again) when what he really needs to do is throw it back in the Bird and get the absolute fuck out of here. Because this isn’t his anymore, apparently never should have been if the last few years were any kind of indication on the Tim Drake policy.

“This is cruel, even for you,” is snarly and low, is simmering anger trying to cover up old pain, pissing him off even more because he’d finally gotten to the place where he could forget for a while.

(And he’ll get there again. Even after all this.)

He makes his fingers unclench, throws the tunic back on the driver’s seat, but none of that covers up how hoarse his voice is, how tight his chest feels.

Dami just moves one hand, slowly pulls out his phone, thumbs the pass code to unlock the screen, and turns the device around to show Red what’s doing on the main screen.

His brain doesn’t process the image that’s him, one of the few existing pictures from years ago when he was still with Young Justice, the one of the core four making stupid faces, torn up from whatever space battle they’d just come back from, half-insane with sleep deprivation and injuries, only back to the planet for moments to celebrate not dying with pizza and Zestis, arms thrown around each other with rips and bruises and blood still staining the uniforms.

Why the fuck it meant something to Damian is the real question.

“I was wrong, when I came to the Tower,” Damian takes a tentative step toward him, still holding the phone out like a distraction that was really a message. “I told you I wanted to know this man you are now. The man that is one of my soulmates. However...however, I was wrong, Tim. You were my soulmate even back then. You were mine, and even if you weren’t, you were already part of the family when I came to Father, and I did not even give you a chance. I did not see how important you were, what lengths you went to make that symbol your own. I was terrified, young, foolish, but that is no excuse. What I should have been doing all this time is learning who you were back then before I attempted to approach you. Only by knowing that boy could I hope to understand this man.”

Wait, what now? How is this happening right now? All the awful things he’d secretly wanted to hear from the blood son, another chosen one. Another crux of his tangled emotions.

“I already told you I don’t need fucking soulmates. I rejected you.” He bites out, trying to breathe, trying to shove those emotions back down where they belong, trying to pretend the sight of the car, the tunic, the things he used to call his own, can’t touch him anymore.

(But it still has power, so much fucking power to break him down to this, that scared kid in an empty house.)

After all these years, he’s moved on...right?

“I know, Beloved,” Dami puts his phone away, green eyes never leaving Red Robin’s tense form. “But this? Tonight? This has nothing to do with soulmates.”

Which is absolutely not what he expects to hear.

“Tonight is about my predecessor, Beloved, not my soulmate. This is for the Robin that stood in Gotham before me,” and it’s gentle in ways Red Robin never imagined Damian could be, not with him. “This,” and Damian sweeps a hand over the car, the suit, “is for the brother we never should have driven away. The one who gave this name his own brand of honor and power, the one who carved a place for himself in the family. Not as the third Robin in line, but as the first Tim Drake.”

Red Robin’s hands fall enough to be less of a threat. Other than that, he isn’t moving, is listening even if it’s grudgingly, even if it’s with disbelief, even if it’s with skepticism, and Damian smiles softly, so softly, at this beautiful, broken man before him.

“My place?” Is hoarse, a warmer edge that isn’t blank coldness, isn’t so much control. “In case you missed it, my place hasn’t mattered in the last few fucking years–”

“Hasn’t it?” And Dami’s eyes are so green, dark jade that catches in the light, easy to pick out. “Hasn’t it mattered?”

The obvious drawback is an opening, a misstep in the detective’s assumptions that Dami takes the opportunity for what it is.

“I know how it must seem,” and he makes himself stop stepping forward when every instinct in his body screams to approach, to reach out, to take this man in his arms, to whisper endearments, to apologize until the tears dry, until Tim’s arms can unlock, until he can start with the smallest measure of belief with splashes of powerful violet.

“I know the years we’ve let you draw further away. I know there’s been disdain and cruelty until that’s all there was between us. And I did not choose to acknowledge it, my wrongdoings. It was easier to hide, Tim, just as it was for Jason and Richard and Father. We were cowards, but not once in all these years have you ever been simply forgotten.”

And here is where preparation for their detective is perfectly done when Damian whips out his utility belt computer and quietly holds it out, his hand trembling ever so slightly.

The evidence is there in clips of Todd sneaking into a familiar penthouse apartment with a bag of coffee in hand or taking a First Aid kit from under the kitchen counter to restock it, it’s there when video shows Richard in the Batsuit, in Nightwing, in Officer Grayson, in workout clothes, in jeans and t-shirt with both hands always pressed to the glass case with Tim’s first Robin suit, it’s there when Father sits on the bed in Tim’s old room over the years with a familiar shining, shuriken R flipping over the fingers of one hand. It’s there in the attempted hacks of Titan’s Tower when the Batcomputer pings with alerts of a bad fight for the Titans. It’s there in all the protocols when Ra’s starts movement against Red Robin, when their worst enemies are cataloged to the nines and contingencies from each member of the Batfamily are so obviously ready.

(With some pride in himself, Dami is the one that came up with the plan to take down Brother Blood, while Jason’s shoot-now-ask-questions-later is crucial to dealing with The Light. Grayson’s experience with the Fearsome Five, Father’s methodical touch to deal with The Insiders.)

It’s there in the smallest details they’d silently done over the years (these things happening without the need to point out how necessary and does Damian ache with the knowledge how easy it could have been to reach out so many, many times), could be enough at a glance to start the seedlings of doubt in Red Robin’s firm belief his place has simply been forgotten.

And Damian hears it in the catch of breath, a soft inward draw. He can’t see behind the whiteouts of Red Robin’s mask, but he hopes, hopes there might be a spark of indecision.

“You were never forgotten.” Gently, Damian reaches out slowly, just enough to close gloved fingers over the screen. “But, you don’t need to hear it from me, Beloved, you need real proof and that we shall provide tonight. Get changed. You’re needed.”

Conflicted as fuck, Red Robin processes as much as he can in that few minutes, muscles in his shoulders unbearably tight. “I’m not going to just patrol with the Bats, especially under your name.”

“It is not as simple as patrol, I’m afraid. We have several Arkham escapees, a possible gang war, and several other take downs lined up,” which is the absolute truth. “I did not lie when I said we needed your help with the overwhelming criminal activity in the last twelve hours.”

Carefully planned twelve hours for one night they’ve been putting into motion for months.

With the computer in hand, feeling more vulnerable than he’s felt behind the mask in years, Red Robin grits his teeth because only the Bats can do this to him. “I can still help the hell out without the bullshit emotional manipulation. Let me guess, this is Dick’s idea.”

“All of us had a hand in it, actually. The Red Bird itself was my idea. Jason and Father helped to restore it to its former glory. Dick, however, had the idea to make it authentic with the suit.”

“Do you even know how messed up this is for me?” Tumbles right out when he wants cold fury, when he wants to snarl at the obvious manipulation at play–

(while being stupidly impressed they actually seemed to know him to put all the pieces in place, make him play right into their hands with a well thought-out plan. Fuck.)

“The point of all of this, Tim, is to give you one last Robin Ride.”

Cue being at a total loss here because what multiverse did he fall into? Seriously, this can’t be his world, not when those words popped out of Damian’s mouth, and along with it, so many possibilities looming right in front of him.

At the same time, dread crawls up his throat, spills bitter into his mouth.

“Even if you never want us, we will, as you said, learn to live with it.” Damian fights to keep it neutral as just the thought of continuing on in this way as they have for weeks, always aware of the empty spot where their fourth should be, makes him cold all over. Still, this cannot be for them, not if they are serious about setting things right in the only way they can. “Even if that is the case, Tim, I...we. We still want to give you this,” his hand sweeps over the Red Bird again.

Because it’s all so much in one go, things he never thought he’d hear, never could have thought would be offered. Unconsciously, his eyes go to the gleaming fender behind the whiteouts. “None of this is– I brought the Bird back years ago so B could remake it for you.”

And Dami chances one more step closer, “but it is yours, Tim. Father made it for you, to keep you safe, and it will always be yours, Robin or not. It should have been given back to you long before tonight, and for that, I apologize.” He tries smiling just a little, “but, better late than never as they say.”

Red’s got nothing for that, for any of this, stares helplessly while Damian pulls on the hood and face covering, only his green eyes visible.

Red’s jaw is tight, clenching down because he finally gets it. He isn’t going to wake up in the Tower, asleep at his workstation, thinking this is a terribly embarrassing message from his subconscious.

“You will need this,” and Damian holds out a hand again. This time, a Batcomm rests in his palm. “The others are waiting for you, Robin.”

“I-I can’t–” because this is fucking real, this is really happening. As much as he’s sure Damian is bullshitting him about this not being a soulmate thing, his eyes are still getting hot, his chest aching, his throat tight. “I can’t do this.”

“You can,” Damian counters gently. “We...I owe you this. Dick will argue he does also. Jason as well. We cannot give you the things we have taken, not completely. As much as I wish we could change things, overcome our own insecurities to remind you that you will always have a place…” Dami sighs, “we cannot go back, either. Not really, but in order to go forward, we can give you the proof you need to see you have always had a place. So, just for tonight, Tim, be our Robin again.”

Damian doesn’t give him time to formulate a reply while he feels like he just got fucking stabbed hearing that out of the current Robin’s mouth.

“This is wrong, this isn’t–”

Damian lays the Batcomm on the top of the car and slowly backs away, melting into the shadows.

“On the contrary,” echoes around him and the lights go out in the underground, only a section of them lighting up the Red Bird. “This may be the one thing we’ve gotten right.”

The flutter of paper he hadn’t noticed is on the ground from where he’d tossed the old/new suit.

The chime on his wrist computer is a surprising upload of locations in Gotham pinging his algorithm, indicating a little vigilante action wouldn’t be amiss. Damian apparently wasn’t lying about too many fires and too few Bats. But, there’s too much happening in hot spots, and he won’t make the most crucial if he’s swinging. He needs a Ducati or–

His eyes go back to it, another symbol of his best days. Back when he could call himself a Bat, and it wouldn’t have been a lie.

Under the mask, Tim Drake breathes out, shuttering through the old pain that lights up his brain pan.

He could turn right the fuck around and walk out of this warehouse with his heart still in check, with his emotions back under control. He could reject this attempt as sure as he’s been rejected for years.

But the tiny part of him that’s always mourned the loss of his tunic is a stronger voice this time, and his hands twitch in his gloves before moving to pick up the discarded suit again, to look at those short sleeves, the green gloves, the shuriken R that was his design – not Damian’s or Jay’s or Dick’s but his.

The suit blurs and Red Robin realizes it’s because his eyes are spilling over behind the whiteouts.

#winter writes #robinpile soulmate au #just a bit more #ANGST #be aware #this is how my life is going #chippon is really patient with me #please give chip your love

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Camp Crystal What?

summary: Camp Crystal Lake is a fine and dandy place to spend your summer, said no one ever. You are inclined to agree with that and so are Damian and Jon.

a/n: I am back from retirement with a REEEEEEAAAAALLLLY long crack fic. (This is long as shit by my standards. Leave me alone.) This was co written and edited by my wife @littleredwing89. She was also the biggest enabler for this. I tried to give reader some executive dysfuction but I don’t think it worked out well. We’ll see. This is my first super sons fic please feel free to roast it.

warnings: This really self indulgent and really long. You would think I would have more gore in a slasher film based fic. No. Apparently not.

masterlist

Jon cackles, his chin lifting only slightly from its perch on your shoulder just enough for you to fully hear the petty sound. You tilt your switch, sticking out your tongue in a vain attempt to avoid Damian’s blue shell. You cry out, throwing your arms up in exasperation as the shell hits you just as you were about to cross the finish line. Your outstretched prosthetic arm nearly hitting Jon in the process, not that you felt too bad about that considering…

“Yeah! Got ‘em, Dami!” Jon says, high fiving a smug-looking Damian beside you. You glare at Jon, who was still leaning against you like you weren’t about to bite his head off. “Whose side are you on?”

“Justice!” This draws a snort out of both Tim and Jason who were both sitting in the back.

“No, you’re not!”

“Yes, I am!”

“He is, (l/n). You needed to be cut down to size," Damian declares, subtly brandishing his screen showing Rozalina doing a little victory lap in her kart as her little star guy floated around her. You pout at him, puffing your cheeks like an unruly chipmunk as you cross your arms over your chest. This only serves to make Damian all the smugger and Jon all the more gleeful at your loss.

You turn the full force of your ire on Jon who was smiling innocently at you, big blue eyes sparkling reminding you of your husky, Yoohoo. You’re about to say something scathing but stop instead deciding to stew in your loss and sulk as you hand Jon your Switch. You’d think he would be more prepared since he was the one who insisted on coming with you to this camp. Now that you think about it, why were they here? All you remember is telling Jon that you couldn’t go visit him over the summer because your parents were sticking you in a summer camp while they go abroad for something and the next thing you know is that you’re in an SUV with Jon, Damian, Damian’s older brother’s, and their friend(?). Whatever she was to them Damiam never adequately explained like everything else. Though you suspect she was Dick’s wife judging from how little they cared whether the other invaded their space. The lack of a wedding ring made you unsure.

You let out a little huff, melting into your oversized Gotham U hoodie, letting Jon lean on you despite your sour mood and touch aversion. You lean against him in return and watch as Yoshi zips past Rosalina in mild petty satisfaction.

You all file out of the car, drowsy and irritable. You muss Jon’s bed head into an even more tangled mess. Neither of you tells Damian about the streak of drool on his face. Tim shuffles the three of you towards the convenience store while Jason politely explains to the mechanic that he’s wrong, Dick orders lunch at the diner and makes a call back to Gotham presumably to make sure Wayne industries isn’t burning down.

Over your shoulder, you can see Jason’s form working hard not to look threatening. It’s not working or maybe the mechanic was shaking because Faust isn’t even trying to hide the irritation wicking off of her.

“He wha-” Tim pinches the bridge of his nose muttering something about Mr.Wayne. He looks pained. Tim hands you a wad of one-dollar bills as his voice takes Timothy Wayne's public speaker pitch. All of the Wayne’s seem to have three voices. Their Wayne voice, their vigilante voice, and their normal voice. Mr. Wayne has the most distinct voice. Dick’s was honestly really hard to distinguish.

You count the wad of cash in your hand as Jon grabs a basket from the pile. You note, with amusement, that at least five of the bills had variations of ‘don’t buy cereal’ written on them in distinct handwriting.

“Kent, are you planning to put the entire store in the basket?”

“Nah, just the good stuff.”

You marvel at the amount of food Jon managed stockpile in your basket while you were distracted.

“Uh, Jon, we don’t need that much.” Plus, I don’t think we can eat all of that.

“They’re right,” Damian chides, making Jon pout.

After a healthy amount of debate, two almost food fights, a near fistfight, and your attempt at puppy dog eyes, you finally narrow the snacks down and even have enough money left for slushies. You shrug at her, adding more blue than necessary. There weren’t rules against this. Plus, it was tastier this way.

“Dami, what flavor do you want?” Jon shouts from the slushie machine. Beside him, you swirl a mix of red, green, pink, and blue slushies. The lady at the counter was wrinkling her nose at you the way Dami is wrinkling his nose at Jon.

Jon’s big cup of neon blue smoothie dropped to the floor in a loud clatter.

“You’re all doomed! He’s coming. He’s coming! That place is cursed!” The scraggly man screams as he shakes Jon. Damian’s lip tries not to curl in amusement as you both watch the scene unfold. Out of context, this was horrifying. In context, it was hilarious especially considering how badly Jon is acting. The clerk at the counter looks appropriately horrified. You look at Jon, feeling a twinge of worry. He’s not in danger. You know that but you can’t help it.

Your concoction flies into the man’s face in no time flat and Jon scrambles to your side as soon as the man drops him. You step in front of him bracing for further confrontation but the man simply walks off muttering about something you couldn’t hear over the beating of your heart.

“Exactly, why am I in the back?” Jason whines, unfolding and refolding himself, not quite sure where to place what limb in the cramped back row of the SUV. You let out a giggle which earns you a rather harsh glare from an already irate Jason. Damian glares back at him for you, in an oddly protective gesture, and you can’t help but feel strangely smug about it.

They glower at each other for a few minutes. Jason, probably knowing this was a stalemate, turns his attention towards the front of the vehicle, sharp green eyes narrowing at the rearview mirror. “Shouldn’t Faust’s short ass be in the back with Timbo and the Three Tiny Terrors?”

You hear an amused huff from the front along with the loud crinkling and shuffling of the map. Faust glances over her shoulder, the bright mischief in her eyes contrasting with the rich brown of her skin. You wonder if everyone in Damian and Jon’s lives were all this pretty. An almost smile quirks on the edges of her lips as she says “You didn’t call shotgun~”

Jason hisses something colorful behind you. Tim, beside him, is chuckling either from Jason’s misery or, based on the defeated cry coming from Jon, having just nailed Yoshi with lightning. Could be both. It was likely.

Jason, looking positively annoyed, unfolds himself and violently settles his feet on Tim’s lap. Tim yelps then says something close to a swear word. Jason grins lazily looking more like a cat as he leans back. This time Jon cries out in joy, the victory music blaring from your switch. Again, Tim hisses something edging towards a curse word. Jon wriggles out of his seat and fist bumps Jason who returns the gesture enthusiastically. In the reflection on the windshield, you can clearly see the amusement in Dick’s smile. Even to your right, Damian seems amused if not outright gleeful at seeing Tim’s misery. You couldn’t quite tell. You weren’t a master of reading Waynes yet. You would turn to Jon but he wasn't fluent either. Faust told you that it would take a while which just meant that you would never master it. Reading people was hard enough as it was. There was always something difficult about interpreting social signals. It was so easy to get them wrong and when you add in the complication of being a vigilante you just found yourself frustrated. You slump into the seat feeling the frustration writhing under your skin. Jon noticing your frustration eases up and gives you a little more space.

"So, what's with the map?" Tim asks, throwing Jason's feet back at him and handing you his switch. Faust wrinkles her nose at the offending piece of paper. "Well, Dicktopus here insisted on the authentic road trip atmosphere complete with bad cell signal, a map, and oh right, getting lost." Dick gives her a look which Faust just shrugs it off.

"Like what? The Goofy movie?" Tim asks incredulously, his brows wrinkling in the rearview mirror as he gives Dick a withering look.

Faust snorts in confirmation. Jon’s face crumples in confusion. You make a small hiccupping noise mimicking the noise that passes for Goofy's laugh and you see as the bleary memory clicks into place. "You mean the old movie we watched last night?"

"It's old but gold," Dick defends fervently, earning him an indulgent smile from Faust and a withering look from Damian. Damian shrinks into his seat unwilling to expend too much effort defending his mentor's taste in movies despite him enjoying the movie. You did too but you wanted to see how this would play out. Behind you, Jason shifts, a shark-like grin plastered across his face. " Just because that's the movie you modeled your life after, Big Bird, doesn't mean it's good."

Dick makes this affronted noise that makes him sound a little like he's squawking. "It's a good movie and you know it!" Dick says earnestly, scowling at a still cocky Jason through the reflection in the windshield. You see Damian, Jason, Faust, and Tim's eyes meet in the rearview mirror, all shining conspiratorially. You and Jon give each other a look, each looking like you're bracing for disaster.

"Dunno, Dick, I think the second one was soooo much better," Tim pipes up finally. It sounds like the spark lighting a trail of gunpowder towards a powder keg.

"I have to agree with Drake," Damian says honestly sounding pained.

Faust rewards him with a conspiratorial smile which makes Damian ease a little. The gesture from what you understood roughly translated to 'it was for the greater good.' "So much for your taste in movies, Dickens," Faust teases, poking a finger at Dick’s shoulder.

"You're one to talk!" Dick says, rolling his eyes childishly.

Faust twists her body to look at all 5 of you, winking at you and Jon as if she was about to perform a magic trick, which wasn't off the table since she could actually pull weapons from her tattooed skin. "You guys loved Lake Placid, right?"

Playing along, you each gave varying sounds of agreement til Dick finally threw his hands up in exasperation. "HEATHENS!" Faust looks pleased as punch at this reaction. You giggle as Dick groans into the steering wheel as you slow to a stop in front of a cross-section.

"Traitors all of you," Dick says, resting his arm on the back of his seat and giving all of you a halfhearted scowl. He kind of looked like Yoohoo when you refused to give him treats.

You all bask in Dick’s misery. You even catch Jon giggling at Dick’s frown despite himself. The rest were completely unrepentant. They don't even bother to hide the self-satisfied smiles on their faces, least of all Damian who vehemently protested to being subjected to such drivel. This is, of course, ignoring the fact that he had watched the movie with the same rapt attention as you and Jon. You all enjoyed the movie just as much as Dick did but it was much funnier to gang up on him.

Dick continues to argue his point as all of you offer, frankly, bogus arguments that you say with as much conviction as Dick levels against you. The banter continues in a rather jaunty rhythm until a fallen tree forces the car into a rather abrupt stop.

"Shit!" Jason hisses at full volume as his knees hit the back of Damian’s seat which draws out a soft 'oof' from Damian which quickly reshapes into a snarl. Tim and Damian give Jason a look of mock sympathy. Jason raises his middle finger in a vaguely familiar gesture.

"Jason!" Dick says, cutting off your train of thought much to your frustration. You contemplate hissing some colorful words yourself.

Jason grunts, probably rubbing his shins. "They've heard, said, and done worse." You hear Jon protest beside you but it's quickly cut off by a 'not you' from somewhere.

Then it hits you. "Oh yeah! Dami did that hand thingy when he drop-kicked someone during lunch," you admit conversationally.

"Dami!"

Damian gives you an absolutely betrayed look. You shrug at him not entirely sure what was wrong. You shrink a little and Damian pulls back a little but still glares.

"Didn't you hear him say the F-word?" Jon adds. You blink at him, running through your memory like a film reel and turning up nothing. "Some of us don't have super hearing," you supply with no real anger behind it.

"Ope, sorry, (y/n)." You shrug at him congenially as he smiles sheepishly at you. No harm no foul.

"Kent!"

"Oh- Uh, sorry, Dami."

Damian doesn't look appeased at all by this.

“Ok, so we’re just gonna skip over the fact that he drop-kicked someone?” Tim asks, raising a brow and you find yourself thinking, “Well, yeah. He’s Robin. That’s kinda his thing.”

Jason snorts beside him, seemingly less irritable now that Dick’s attention was directed elsewhere. “He didn’t get caught soooo..”

“Jason!”

“Jason, we’re not supposed to be obvious about being terrible influences.” Faust jokes, now redirecting Dick’s ire to her. You can’t tell if that was intentional or not but either way she seems to be enjoying how Dick’s expression makes him look like a carp gasping for air.

“Why did you tell them?” Damian hisses, albeit softer than he normally does. You frown at him confused. You thought it was spectacular and you really don’t know what was wrong. You really wish they’d explain it. Maybe you should speak up but would that be rude? You stare at Damian trying your hardest to convey your confusion but you’re having trouble shaping your face into the correct one. You try to keep in mind the face Jon makes when Damian tried to explain quantum physics to both of you.

Turning away from her argument with Dick, Faust looks at you pityingly before speaking and putting her hand up to Dick’s face lightly pushing him back. “Relax, Baby Vamp, I would’ve gotten it out of them sooner or later,” Faust says, looking at you with the same stern look Mr. Pennyworth gives you when you try to steal cookies. It kind of reminds you of the Penance Stare from Ghost Riders but with less flaming skulls and more implied disappointment.

“Tim was the one who ate the last few pieces of the brownies Mr. Pennyworth made for Jason.” The words flow out of you like water from a cataract. Faust waves her hand theatrically as if she had just demonstrated a magic trick. Again, you’re pretty sure this was one. You wince fully expecting Tim to have the same caustic reaction as Damian. But when you turn to look at him to apologize, Tim already had his hands up in front of him defensively. On the other side, not far enough away for Tim’s liking, Jason looks livid, steam coming out of his ears.

“Those were mine, asshole!”

“You eat them every time you’re at the Manor!”

“When I’m at the Manor! Which is what? Once every three months?”

“Two,” Tim deadpans, holding up two fingers.

That was the wrong thing to say, you realize. From the way they’re staring at each other, you’re a little afraid they’d come to blows as Jason surges forward.

“Tim, Jay, I will turn this car around if you two don’t stop.”

“Please, continue.” Dick shoots Damian a ‘you are not helping’ glare but Damian simply answers with a warning one. They all look ready for a brawl and all you want to do is curl up into your oversized hoodie. You play with the frayed edges of your hoodie hoping you’re radiating your discomfort.

And like an angel of mercy, Faust clears her throat. “(Y/n), Jon, help me clear the road.” The statement leaves no room for argument and you and Jon breathe a collective sigh of relief.

Jon lifts the tree with ease. It was an oddly healthy tree, freshly cut. Something about it made your stomach turn. “Jon could have done it alone. Why bring me?” You ask, distracting yourself from the strange feeling by fiddling with the joints of your metal hand which only made you more conscious of how pointless it was to bring you along. Faust glances towards the car. The boys are still bickering. She then glances down at you with a wry smile. “Waynes bickering is really funny from a distance.” Your eyes glance at the light scar on her running down her clavicle, disappearing into the line of her shirt. You doubt it’s from any of them. You really doubt it. The Wayne kids were chaotic, especially the girls, but they’re never- Well, they can be hurtful but not that way. Not that you’ve seen anyway. You shake your head and glance at the car and watch them argue. Their gestures are animated and loud enough that you could almost hear the bickering going on. This liveliness settles your stomach.

You spend a few minutes out there waiting for them to settle down. It was long enough for you and Jon to start debating the existence of Gummy Bear shaped aliens and for Faust to weigh in with her humble opinion. Dick honks at the three of you to tell you it was, relatively, safe to come back. Tim, Damian, and Jason were all sulking in their respective corners while Dick gives you and Jon an apologetic look. Jon simply shrugs as if to say it was normal for brothers to argue but you found it hard to picture Conner ever being that mean to Jon or vice versa for that matter. Faust rolls her eyes at the sulking birds, a fond smile quirking on her lips. Dick gives her a look that was usually followed by the words ‘I miss not being the adult’ which she graciously answers with a smile that plainly says ‘me too.’

In the corner of your eye, you see something- a shadow- move in the woods as you drive off, Dick’s story about space aliens falling away into the background. You turn to Jon who looks at you confused and a little concerned. It was clear he didn’t see it, whatever it was. You turn to Damian but see he’s still stewing. You blin and the shadow is gone. A sticky feeling of dread settles in your stomach.

There's pressure in the car.

The camp is, well, loud.

Louder than you were expecting and full of rowdier children than promised. You wince slightly, ears ringing. You and Damian sigh already knowing that you were both going to be absolutely exhausted by the end of this. You turn to Jon, shoulder slumping, only to find him beaming as he watched the other kids run around. There were alot of days you envied Jon and this was one of them. Damian looks at Jon with utter disbelief. You shrug at him as he wrinkles his nose at both Jon and the hooligans running around. Your lip quirks into a scraggly smile fully understanding.

“This is going to be repulsive,” Damian hisses.

“Lighten up, Dami.”

“Nah, he’s gotta practice being dark and brooding, so when he gets to be the big bad bat he can do the whole brooding thing all-natural,” you joke, using your finger to mimic the ears of Batman’s cowl.

“Please, say that louder. I don’t think the supervillains heard you,” says Damian sarcastically, nose upturned.

Jon grins at you in a challenge. You raise a brow, crossing your arms. Your brain cell takes a vacation.

“HE’S GOTTA-” Damian clamps a hand on your mouth. You glare at him. His eye flicks to Jon who is sucking in a breath. Damian is throwing his other hand over Jon’s mouth when one of the counselors waves you over. All three of you blanch at the color of the shirt.

You all stand in an odd misshapen circle. Damian looks incredulously at the tacky camp T-shirt he’s been forced into while Jon does not contain his laughter. You joke about how a bowtie would definitely class it up which earns you a rude gesture that just makes you laugh harder.

“Alright kiddos, it’s time to introduce ourselves!”

Damian froze under the weight of their collective gazes, the hint of a smile on his face fading. Sometimes being around you and Jon made him forget. Well, not really forget. It was just easier not to think about it when you two were around. Damian feels himself shifting, realigning himself to 5’ 2” of cold arrogance.

It should have scared you just how easily the warm fondness on his face smoothed out giving way to this cold calculating face. It did on some level; on some level, the efficiency of Damian’s face muscles scared you. Sometimes you had to wonder if it was just him or if his brothers had the same knee-jerk reaction.

You roll your eyes as if nothing worrying had happened and bump your shoulder against his. A smile twitches on his lip and the ramrod shape of his spine curves a bit. Jon snickers, not trying too hard to hide it, which earns him the full force of Damian’s ire but you and Jon know all too well that Damian’s just being prickly. You step forward, shoulders broadening, nudging a glaring Damian behind you redirecting everyone’s stares towards you. It’s uncomfortable but you don’t mind. Damian huff behind you but doesn’t protest any more than that. You smile amicably or as amicably as you can. You need to remember the correct shape.

Introductions go off without a hitch.

Jon, like always, has no trouble stirring the crowd.

You make an impression when your introduction careens into a tangent about angelfish.

Behind you, Damian scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. Contrary to popular belief, Damian did have a tendency to be nervous, especially around new people. This is compounded by the fact that Damian wasn’t really versed in dealing with people his own age which just put him on edge.

Thankfully, all three of you get sorted into the same cabin. The cabin is chaotic in a familiar, childish sort of way with pillows flying everywhere and kids jumping up and down their bed. Jon immediately jumps into the fray. Damian follows soon after Jon hits him with a pillow square in the face.

“Woman up and face me, Kent!”

You look up to the sky and smile in amusement. This is going to be an interesting summer.

The room is solid.

Your eyes incandescent in the darkness. The air crackles in anticipation of the storm.

A silver streak of lightning tears down through the heavens and crashes down into the lake.

A strange dislocation in the universe has emerged.

Your eyes shut.

Your ears pop.

You do not hear as something mangled rises from the water.

You wanted to say this was a horrible idea. Though, you’re not sure how to phrase that without implying they’re idiots. You’ve been hanging out with Damian too much. He’s starting to rub off on you and you’re mildly concerned.

You’d told them that the whole fight was your fault. Ok, not entirely. You simply told the kid off when he was making fun of Jon and you were not gonna stand for that. The kid shoved you, Damian 'accidentally' broke his nose, and the next thing you know is that you’ve been shoved into a random group of campers.It’s been a week but you still weren’t familiar with a lot of the people in the camp. The man with kind eyes said this would be good for you. You really would have preferred staying at the campgrounds, cleaning and doing whatever with the people in your cabin.

“Alright, kiddos, you guys can go swim while me and Jos go check something out in the woods.”

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t!”

You sniff and bite your tongue, playing with the hem of your shirt.

"You sure they're gonna be ok?"

"What you think they're gonna disappear like Cat?"

Your ears perk up at this.

"Well, I mean-"

"She probably just ran off with one of the town boys."

This was probably the best time to bring up child endangerment protocols or the fact that you’re not even dressed for swimming. By the time you string the correct combination of words, they’re gone. You sigh and huddle yourself into a tree. It’s not like you’re dressed to swim anyway even if you wanted to.

You hug your knees as you flatten yourself against the tree, making sure your prosthetic limb is tucked beneath your normal one. You watch the others as they horse around looking like they’re really enjoying themselves. They probably didn’t realize you were there or did they even notice you join the group. Doesn’t matter really. Right now you would prefer to sit under the tree than risking your arm. Mr. Fox had explained that since it was still a prototype it was delicate.

“HEY!”

You jump. Your skin feeling very confined. You turn to the voice. Jesse, you think.

“Sorry. Could you- can you say that again?”

She rolls her eyes at you and you suddenly doubt the politeness of your speech but no you were pretty sure that was the correct way to say it.

“I said ‘can your arm go in the water?’.”

Oh.

“No?” You were half sure it couldn’t. You haven’t really tested it since it was easier to bathe without it. She gives you a skeptical look and yanks your arm towards her. You yelp. “Hey! What are you-” Your throat tightens when you find yourself at the dock. It’s shaky. The slightest shifting made it move.

You turn your heel mumbling an apology but your arm is yanked back. The grip is stronger now. You look back and see two people holding on to it. “Let go!” you say, trying to wrench yourself free. “It’s- it’s not a toy,” you add but they don’t budge.

“You’re being a baby!”

“C’mon (y/n)!”

“Let’s see how well robots can swim!”

You scream as they throw you into the water.

You thrash your limbs around, grasping for something, anything but all you can feel is the viscous emptiness deforming and reforming with every splash.

You cry out.

The water muffles your screams along with the distant sound of laughter and heckling.

Your mouth is filling with water.

Your lungs. Your lungs are burning.

Your chest aches.

You can’t breathe.

Help!

Please!

Someone!

It hurts.

Your vision is pulsing. The edges are going dark.

Your limbs are going numb and falling to pieces.

The world is sinking.

It’s so dark.

It’s too cold.

Why are you alone?

Where are they?

You don’t want to die like this.

You feel a large hand fish you out by the scruff of your shirt. It tosses you onto the shore; the force as you hit the ground knocks the air (water?) out of your lungs. You heave, gasping like a fish. A large silhouette hangs over you, cold dread licks up your spine but you note a lack of panic. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen.

Your vision comes back in pieces and by the time the world puzzles back together, you’re alone. You’re alone and shivering like a wet rat. You look around, brushing wet hair out of your eyes and you realize you’re not entirely sure of the way back. You curl in on yourself. It does nothing to warm you but you were desperate to feel whole and safe and ok.

You aren’t entirely sure how long it is before Jon and Damian find you or just how they managed it but you’re thankful when someone drapes a heavy towel over your head, muffling the scattered sounds around you. Shakily, you pull the towel over your face. It hides the tears well enough. Your loose hanging limbs tighten around you. You want to shrink, small enough to smooth over the trembling in your body. You know they’ve saved people from drowning before. They’ve saved people from far worse. Heck, they’ve been through far worse. You desperately don’t want them to think of you as weak, as less but here you were trembling. You’re unable to steady your own breathing. Frustration rises in the back of your throat. It is a welcome change from the nonstop medley of panic that’s been shoved on you.

A hand settles itself on your head, the movement stiff, light, and controlled. The pressure increases a touch when you don’t protest. Damian radiates awkwardness as he attempts to ruffle your still-damp hair. You smile up at him through damp hair. Damian simply grunts as he continues to avoid eye contact by staring out at the empty lake.

Jon plops down next to you kicking his feet out in front of him. He gives your space but he’s just close enough for you to lean against if you wanted to. On his shoulder was your ratty oversized hoodie. You tug at his sleeve to ask for it. He hands it to you. You slip it on, not caring that you were still soggy. The familiar, loose weight of fabric against your skin made you feel whole and safe and marginally ok.

Jon presses a hand onto your back mimicking the experimental way Damian had patted your damp hair. He listens to the steadying rhythm of your heart, his own easing back into a calmer rhythm. Damian raises a brow at him and he gives him a thumbs up. Damian’s shoulders loosen and Jon can’t help the snort that comes out of him. You look at him startled and Damian gives him the ol’ Damian glare which makes him laugh out loud. Your eyes flicker to Damian and then roll your eyes, crow's feet wrinkling in the corners of your eyes. You twist your mouth into a weird squiggly line in an attempt to smother a laugh in fear of incurring Damian’s wrath. Jon highly doubts you’d be able to. Damian was, in fact, a big old softie. Sure, he acts grumpy all the time but spending so much time with both Dick and Faust has made him pretty mushy by bat standards but Jon wouldn’t dare say that out loud, at least, not when Damian looked this close to throwing him into the water.

You spend a long time soaking up the quiet before heading back. Jon slings an arm around you but pulls it back when he hears your heart stutter. You pinch and tug at his sleeve and mumble an apology. You see Damian shoot Jon his version of the Pennyworth look.

“Sorry, (y/n).”

“‘S ok,” you rasp quietly.

You three walk along the shore towards the cap. You feel too tired to even blanch at the odd feeling of wet socks as you pad along the path. You walk in silence which is interrupted by a bird call here and there with either you or Jon occasionally asking Damian to translate. He does but for some reason some odd reason, they keep calling you idiot or imbeciles. You watch Damian’s eyes flick here and there. You know he feels it too. The odd feeling of being watched. The rustle of leaves echoes eerily in the stillness.

The counselors, mercifully, let you skip out on the rest of the afternoon’s activities. You curl up in your cabin, warm and very comfortable in the pool of fabric created by one of Mr. Kent’s hoodies which Jon ‘accidentally’ packed. You rolled your eyes at him but accepted it gratefully. You make a mental note to thank him with the mill house cookies you ‘accidentally’ bought at one of the rest stops.

You flip through the yellowing pages of the book in your hand. You aren’t quite sure how to describe how inappropriate it is to give a drowning victim a book on the complete works of H.P. Lovecraft. Then again, it was better than reading Moby Dick. Plus, you’re enjoying yourself trying to find a man who is about as stealthy as a Green Lantern. You’ll have to ask Damian or Jon. Damian’s more likely to have met a Green Lantern but he’s also more likely to give you a boring and entirely inaccurate answer.

You go back to the fish people. Do Atlanteans walk like that? Maybe. It feels odd somehow moving around without your prosthetic limb. Lighter but infinitely more unstable.

“Do you think they’ll find Cat?”

Your ears perk up. Your eyes flick to the window and you see two counselors leaning against another cabin. You shuffle awkwardly somehow moving the mass of cloth quietly. You squish against the wall making sure they can’t see you.

“Cat just ran off. You know how she is.”

“That’s what Raz said.”

“Yeah, where is he?”

“Who knows he’s probably just fucking around in the woods. Doing Bear Grylls shit or something.”

“Hope he comes back soon.”

“Do you really wanna deal with that horny jackass?”

“No but he’s the only decent cook. Do you really wanna taste what awful concoction Ratty has for us?”

Your stomach curdles remembering Ratty’s terrible improvisation of Doro Wat. Ratty said it was their grandmother’s recipe but you doubted it. Unlike the one Jason made for you one time, it was bland. It wasn’t even close to spicy. The vegetables were overcooked while the chicken was somehow undercooked. In short, you had nearly died twice since you got here.

“Nope. I’d rather starve. Isn’t their cooking like a human rights violation?”

Starvation would be a kinder death.

“Yeah. Anyway, I tried asking Jos. Apparently, Raz and a bunch of the other Lil shits have been fucking around in town.”

“Is that where Jackie disappeared to?”

“Probably.”

Ok, so the counselors have been dropping like flies and you have yet to notice. You should probably tell Damian and Jon. Something about this seems wrong.

“Are you ever gonna stop glaring at them?” you ask, plopping on to the log letting your empty sleeve hang loosely off to your side.

“Depends, have they apologized?”

“Ye-”

“Sincerely?”

“Well-”

“Then no.”

“Ok, but does Jon have to pout at them?”

“I’m not pouting!”

“Wait… That’s your glare?”

“Yeah?” Jons says furrowing his brow.

“Batcow’s given me better glares!”

“Again, (l/n) is right.”

“Thank you!”

“Dami, who’s side are you on?”

Damian’s lips curl into a cat-like smile, the kind you saw on Selina. “Justice.”

Jon throws his hands up defeated. You give Damian a low five as he settles beside you. Jon takes the seat on your other side still pouting.

"Do you kids know the rules to surviving a horror movie?"

The chattering dies down and you all fall silent, turning your full attention to the counselor. Your counselor lets out an absolutely delighted squeal, clapping their hands. You don’t miss the absolute dread on your other counselor’s face.

“Ok so, rule 1: Be a virgin-”

“Ratty!” Dawes, the counselor with dread on her face, squeaks elbowing Ratty, Ratchet. “Couldn’t you have worded it differently or you know, not at all?!” Ratty, the horror enthusiast counselor, rubs their arm and sticks their tongue out at Dawes who looks like she’s going to age ten years during this conversation.

If you thought Dawes was pale before, she nearly turns transparent with the next few words that leave your mouth. “What’s a virgin?” you blurt out. You desperately want to curl in on yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t know. It was just your mouth runs faster than your mind. The kids around you snicker and one of the boys behind you claps you on the shoulder, laughing loudly. You lean on Damian, hiding behind him slightly. Damian shifts so he’s shielding you more.

Dawes sputters out her answer. It’s hard to understand. You watch the others searching for clues for an appropriate reaction.

“It’s a person who’s never had intercourse,” Damian deadpans and you nod quietly.

Dawes’ face lights up like a Christmas tree while Ratty’s twists into pure joy. Damian rolls his eyes as the other kids laugh even louder. It takes a moment but your cheeks heat up realizing the gap in your reaction must have given them the wrong idea. You pinch the bridge of your nose and you sigh. You see Jon snort at you and you stick your tongue out at him.

“See, Dawes, they know.”

“What about keeping them innocent?!”

“I’m not getting paid to do that,” Dawes drags her hand over her face as Ratty shrugs,” ’sides, this is life skills.” Dawes slaps Ratty on the shoulder again making them whine at the impact. “Ok. Ok. Fine. Fine. Jeez, you hit like a son of a- Oh wait, have any of you heard about Camp Blood?”

This gets you all to quiet down.

“Camp Blood? Isn’t that like a video game?”

“It’s like a local ghost story isn’t it?”

“Wasn’t that the one with the fish-”

“It’s not the fish people.”

“Let me tell the story!”

“Ratty, you never tell the story well. You keep making weird voices and you can’t even keep a straight face.”

“SLANDER,” Ratty shouts, throwing up their hands.

“Pffft, you also gonna tell us you can cook a 5-star meal?”

“Ok. Ok. Fine. I’ll just tell it to them straight.”

“What? As straight as Dawes?”

“Pffft, we’d go in circles.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true!”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“What’s the thing about Camp Blood?” Jon pipes, putting a hand over Damian’s mouth probably sensing the sharp remark he’s about to say. Damian licks his hand and Jon pulls away waving his hand like he’s been burned. You snort then blanch when Jon rubs the spit on to your hoodie.

“Gather round children-”

“Ratty, they’re in a circle get on with it.”

“I AM TRYING TO SET THE MOOD.”

“Jesus, ok. So, a looong time ago there was this kid named Jason Voorhes. When two counselors were fu- OW! Jeez, Dawes- Ow! Ok, fine. While two counselors were distracted, he drowned-”

“Sounds familiar,” snipes Damian. An apologetic look crosses Dawes’ face, a confused one on Ratty’s, and sheepish one on Jos’. You squeeze his and Jon’s shoulders.

Ratty shakes their head. “Anyway, they never find the body so his mom comes back and hacks the new counselors into pieces as some soft of demented justice for her kid.”

“That’s a bit of an overreaction,” Jos laughs awkwardly. The glares on them do not waver. You elbow Damian and kick Jon’s foot. Damian ignores you while Jon gives you a look of mock hurt. You roll your eyes at him and attempt to elbow Damian a second time. Again, nothing.

“The thing is one of the counselors actually manages to decapitate Mrs. Voorhees. She disappeared two months after though. Legend has it that Jason still roams the grounds of Camp Blood seeking revenge for his mother.”

The air is humming, thick with the roll of thunder and the premonition of a storm.

There is a dislocation in the universe.

Your ears pop.

You look at Jon who looks vaguely like his mother when she’s sniffed out a story. You look at Damian who is already sussing out every detail of the story. Your eyes meet and you all nod.

“It has to be someone using the urban legend as some sort of cover. Or! Or maybe they’re using the urban legend to mythologize their killings,” you say, through a mouth full of contraband chocolate chip cookies.

Damian snatches the package from you taking a piece.“(l/n), that’s ridiculous-”

“Yeah, we don’t even know if they’re dead yet,” Jon protests, snatching the bag from a scowling Damian.

“What are the odds they’re still alive?”

You all fall silent. “We assume they’re still alive until we see proof of the contrary,” Damian says firmly. You and Jon nod. The movement feels heavy.

“But what if the Jason ghost is a real thing?”

“Possible.”

“(l/n), don’t indulge him.”

“Jon is literally part alien,” you protest

“Jason has come back from the dead and Faust literally has moving tattoos,” Jon adds.

“YOUR DAD IS LITERALLY BEST FRIENDS WITH A 5000-YEAR-OLD AMAZONIAN AND A DUDE WHO CAN LIFT BUILDINGS.”

“Ok, fine but we should eliminate the more mundane explanations first,” Damian concedes accepting another cookie.

“I think we have. It’s too rapid and obvious to be a human trafficking operation.”

“We should find the counselors first.”

“Yeah, that’s a start.”

“Where should we start?”

“Abandoned cabins would be a good start,” you suggest trying not to perk up.

Damian glares at you and you wither. “(l/n), you’re not coming with us.”

“You say this like (y/n)’s gonna listen,” Jon laughs.

“ET has a point,” you say, grinning and opening another packet. You offer Jon the first cookie as thanks.

“Can’t I at least be a cool alien?”

“Nope.”

“Will you two focus?”

“Yeah. No.”

Damian pinches his nose. You completely understand why people think Damian makes a convincing fifty year old. “(l/n)...”

“Ok, fiiiine. I’ll stay out of it.”

“Don’t even think about sneaking out.”

You frown and nod.

You tiptoe through the brush, one metallic arm wrapped around you, the other hanging limply to your side flashlight clasped tight in your metallic hand. Camp Blood isn’t too far. You silently survey a few cabins finding nothing particularly interesting aside from cobwebs and potentially dead animals. The air is musty and decayed. You sniff and rub your nose as you walk through the camp guided only by strips of moonlight. If you were to run into a murderer now, you would only have your flashlight to defend you. You didn’t like those odds.

You’re a deer in headlights.

Dry mouth.

Skin going cold.

A scream burbling in the back of your throat.

The lumbering figure is coming closer.

You know he can see you.

Your feet are fused to the ground.

The light of the machete winking at you from a distance.

The world turns into a blur when your back hits the rotting wood of the abandoned cabin.

“What did I say about sneaking out?” Damian hisses, arm pressed on your neck. You blink. A flood of relief crowds your chest.

You sling your arms around him and he stiffens. You explain away the surprised little yelp as something animal and not something from your friend. “I didn’t sneak out. I went to the bathroom then I wandered off,” you mumble.

“How exactly is that different?”

“Less tiptoeing.”

"Funny."

"It is."

"Have you seen Kent?"

"Sadly no."

"Shit- Don't tell Grayson."

"The fact that you swore or the fact that you somehow lost Superman's kid"

He glares at you and you can't help but shrug.

"Both."

"Fair," you say, pausing for half a breath.”Did you find the hostages?”

Damian’s face falls then hardens then you know better than to ask him.

“We should find Jon,” Damian says finally. You flick your eyes and shake your head pushing down the urge to make fun of his slip. You’ll tell Jon later.

You two walk together, shoes in hand. It was easier. Maybe after this, you’ll ask Tim to teach you how to sneak around.

The sound of crashing wood fills the still night air. You and Damian freeze.

“JON.” Damian is the first to launch himself towards a cabin. You shamble behind him, plodding through the muddy earth as fat droplets of rain splashing down. You would have blanched at the squishing but all you could think about was Jon.

“Jon!”

“Dami! (y/n)!”

“Are you ok?”

“I’m in a hole. What do you think?”

You look him over as best you can in the dark. Damian seems to be having a better time. “You’re not in pain, so yeah.”

Jon huffs, shifting around in the pile of clothes. His nose wrinkles.“This jumper smells like something died in it," he says holding up a particularly old looking sweater. It's blotchy with various stains around the neck.

“Check for a pulse!” you shout, earning a sharp jab to the rib from Damian. You glare and rub your chest.

“Guys, I don’t wanna alarm you but I’m pretty sure there’s a decapitated head down here”

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Damian asks incredulously. Your skin drains of all color and warmth.

“Do you want the good news or bad news?”

“That’s not-”

“Where in that pile of bloody clothes did you get good news?”

“Good news is he’s not here,” Jon says, eyes sweeping around.”Bad news, he’s actually real.”

“Stop messing around and get out of there, Kent!”

“Jon, come on! Fly or something!”

“My powers are going-” Jon jumps. But only manage to just fall back down. “I can’t fly.”

Damian groans. He pinches his nose and goes off to look for something to pull Jon up with.

“Why do you think your powers aren’t working?”

Jon shrugs. “Magic?” This place is cursed.

“We are dealing with a ghost,” you shrug back. You all freeze. The sound of distant footsteps making your heart race.

“Dami!” you hiss, over your shoulder.

“I can’t find anything!”

“Wait,” you say, unfastening your arm and reaching down to Jon. Damian grabs hold of it with both hands and you two start pulling Jon up.

The footsteps are getting louder, closer.

"Hurry!" you hiss quietly.

Your hearts are racing.

You pull, Jon getting closer.

He’s almost in arm’s reach.

The man is getting closer.

You can hear his breathing.

You pull Jon up, feet kicking. You wrestle him into a hug with one arm, making a little happy squeal into his hair low enough that only they can hear. Damian nudges you with your arm.

“Well that was scary,” Jon whispers into your shoulder. Damian smacks him upside the head. You laugh but cut yourself off when you see Damian stiffen. “RUN!”

You all scramble up and begin to dash away. You look back over your shoulder, machete winking at you, hockey mask visible in the dim light.

You stumble, feet getting tangled in roots. You yelp, bracing for impact and possibly dying. You feel arms scoop you up. You squeak. “No one gets left behind, soldier,” Jon says grinning.

“How are you still a goof when we’re about to die?” you laugh incredulously.

“He clearly gets it from his father.”

“ Pfffft, probably or maybe it's an alien thing.”

“Are you really gonna make fun of me, right now?” Jon protests, shouting over the rain.

“You two! This way!” Damian points to a small hole in the hillside.

“I’m too tall for that!” Damian glares.

You snort. “Just duck.” Jon scowls at you then sighed.

You all slide into a small crevice and hunched together.

“What’s the plan?”

��Jon, are your powers working?”

“Kind of?”

“Ok, that’s one thing we have going for us,” Damian hands you a phone. "You call while we distract him."

"Why do you have to distract him?"

"Ask him yourself, (l/n)."

Your eyes sweep up to the tall figure. Your mouth goes completely dry.

"Fuck."

Jason brings his machete down in a swift arc light. You grab Damian by the scruff of his shirt. The machete embeds itself into the wall, getting caught in the process. Your moment of relief doesn’t last long when Jason lunges for you. You scream as he catches your arm. With a soft click it detaches and you scramble away and out the hole into the pouring rain. He’s hot on your heels. You hear a loud thud. You look over your shoulder. Jon’s resting against the wall, head slumped. You see him throw Damian to the ground. You call 9-11 as you hurl your shoe at him. The dial tone is ringing. When you look up again, Jason is heading towards you. You stumble barefoot trying to get away. Predictably, you fall, foot catching on another tangle of roots.

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone out there?”

“Please help,” you whisper as Jason raises your arm to the sky. Your life flashes through like a film reel. Your breath is caught. Lightning flashes.

You watch the lightning cut through the heavens. The silver streak of light connecting might your arm and by extension Jason. The arm explodes. Shrapnel flies everywhere. Jason bursts into flames. The smell of burning flesh cutting through the air. You watch in open-mouthed horror as another bolt of lightning hits. He falls body fried to a crisp. You wretch the smell still strong.

"Kid! Kid! Are you ok?"

"No…" you gasp, bile lining the back of your throat, "please,hurry. We're at Camp Blood."

You’re cold and wet and forced to huddle into one blanket since the officer who responded only had one on hand. Damian is talking on the phone. It’s hard to make out amidst the pouring rain, so you settle in letting Jon rest his head on your shoulder as he drifts to sleep. The officer said the rest of the force is coming to collect the bodies. The camp is most likely gonna be shut down for the summer. You weren’t keen on spending the entire summer with your cousins.

“I’ve informed father that you’re staying with us for the rest of the summer.”

“Informed?” you laugh, relieved, ”good luck telling Jon that.”

You both eye him. Jon snores into your ear and you can’t help but smile. “He’ll be fine.”

Bonus

The map in Jon’s hands crinkles loudly as he shuffles through it trying to find the correct route. You know the route. You memorized it before you even set off. You did it instead of studying for finals. It was certainly more entertaining than studying for a US history final when you already knew it was just gonna be about the American Revolution, World War II, and probably the Vietnam war. You hold back the snicker threatening to spill from your lips when, with each crinkle of the Dollar Store map, Damian’s brow twitched. Yes, this was the purpose of the map. It was most certainly doing its job well.

“You think they’ll still have the same dumb camp activities?”

“You say this like you weren’t squealing to try all of them.”

“Was not!”

“Dunno, Jon, Dami has a pretty good memory.”

Your car rolls to a stop in front of a cross-section. You drum your fingers against the steering wheel before you let curiosity override your self-preservation.

“How did you convince Dami to come along?”

Jon tilts his head at you in question. “I didn’t,” he says slowly, “I thought you did.”

Your passenger goes deadly silent. You both twist your bodies to look at him. Jon gives him a knowing smile while you give him a reassuring one that says ‘it’s ok you can tell us’. Damian avoids all eye contact like the plague, glaring at the window like there’s a particularly interesting speck of dust on it.

His eyes narrow. And you have the odd urge to follow his gaze.

The trees shift.

The pressure in the car builds.

Jon’s laughter stalls.

A shape flickers in the distance.

Your ears pop.

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

a/n: THANKS FOR READING! Yes, reader has a prosthetic limb because I was reading 3 birds. Also, this can be treated as pre-slash. Epilogue is up for interpretation. Probably. Also fun fact, Faust is the basis for merc reader. I could not resist putting her in.

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #jon kent imagine #jon kent x reader #damian wayne imagine #batboys x reader #batfamily x reader

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morgansunflower · 3 years

Text

Sister

Four time's Y/N helps her brothers and the first time they help her

Dick Grayson X sister-reader!

When Dick is Robin and gets fear toxin from Scarecrow

I came to the Manor missing home I knocked Alfred opened

"hey Alfred"

"Ms Y/N always lovely to see you back home. Your father is at work Master Richard is taking much needed time asleep"

I walked in wait why's Dick asle-Scarecrow! Shit! No! No! No! I can't believe I forgot!

"I'm the world's worst sister!"

I ran upstairs remembering, Dick got injected with fear toxin last night he had called me last night acting off. I asked Bruce and he told me. I knocked not hearing anything come on bud open up

"hey Birdboy it's your sister Dick little bro.. OK I'm opening the door"

I slowly opened the door the lights off. The sunlight shining in from the window. I saw him laying with a blanket wrapped around him, he was shaking, mumbling and crying. I ran to his side touching his shoulder

"Dick! Buddy please open your eyes"

He carefully opened his eyes he saw me he jolted back terrified. It kills me seeing him like this

"Dick buddy it's OK it's me it's your sister you're OK you're here" I said calming

He quickly wrapped his arms around my neck crying. I rubbed his head my heart breaking. Oh, Grayson.

"shhh shhh it's OK"

He crossed his legs around me

"I'm so sorry I wasn't good enough"

"Dick honey you are a great kid. You are my brother ok nothing is going to change that I promise you. You are more than good enough"

I sat on the bed he hugged my neck crying. I rubbed his head rocking back and forth he kept crying

"shhh it's OK Birdboy"

I use his nickname again to help pull him out of his panic attack. He finally started calming down. He's OK.

"there that's better" I softly said

"hey sis" he asked his voice brittle

"yeah buddy"

"can I have some ice cream"

A wave of relief crashes into me. I smiled in relief he's going to be OK my baby brother is going to be OK

"of course"

Jason Todd X sister-reader!

Jason worries he will lose Y/N the same way he lost his mom

I headed to the my place from grocery shopping. I pulled in seeing my kitchen light on. Did I leave the light on? I grabbed the groceries I went inside and screamed. I dropped the groceries, Jason!

"Jason what hell?! Are you trying to scare me to death?!"

He just stood there not looking at me

"hey what's wrong, Jaybird"

He shrugged his shoulders what is going on with him. I picked up the groceries and put them away. I turned folding my arms

"spill it" I demanded

"c-can you promise me something?"

"if you ask me first"

"you would never do.. it right"

"what's it, Jason?" his eye's swell he's trying not to cry. I want to hold him and tell him everything's going to be OK. Though Jason's not Grayson it's best to let him express his feelings before smothering him with affection "Jay?"

"N-nothing forget I said anything" he puts his hands in his pocket

"Jason come on now what is it?"

"never do.. Drugs" I'm shocked

"Jason Peter Todd! Of course I would never do that it's wrong and I love you all too much too even put you through that"

His lip trembling. I can't stop myself. I put my hands on his shoulders he wouldn't look at me

"sometimes the people you love are not good enough" he disappointingly stated

"Jay, what do you mean not good enough"

He shakes his head and he mumbled something

"Jason have you been doing--" he cut me off

"fuck no!" he sighed, good that's a mountain in my gut leaving "I just....forget it"

"Jason, buddy talk to me. I'm here you can tell me anything about what's going on with you"

"I - yesterday was my mom's anniversary of when she died OK... I just didn't-don't I--"

Oh buddy I hugged him tight he wouldn't hug me back. I didn't care. I finally felt him wrap his arms around me. I heard him crying

"Jason. You listen to me when I say that I am not going anywhere. I promise you I will never do that to you ok"

He nodded we parted I kissed his head he sniffed

"geez I sound like a baby"

"you sound like you needed to get things off your chest. You want to stay here tonight we can watch Harry Potter and LORD Of The Rings. I got honey buns"

He smiled drying his tears and nodded. I dried his tears with my thumbs hugging him again

Tim Drake X sister-reader!

Y/N gets a call that her sister died she rushes to the Manor to make sure her little brother Tim is OK (the picture is from when is dad died but I thought it'd work for the moment)

Stephanie died last night Dick just told me as of a few moments ago. My first worry Tim. I went to the Manor rushing to Tim's room I gently knocked. Please be OK

"hey Timmy.. It's me Y/N.. Dick told me what happened" I feel tears threatening to fall "I just want you to know that I am here for you.... Can I open the door?"

I hear him take a deep breath I opened the door his room completely trashed the lights off it wouldn't be if.. Stephanie saw this. A lot of things would be different I turned the light on. He lays on his bed. I looked at his face his eyes bloodshot, watering, swollen like he had been crying for hour's. He started sniffing he rubbed his nose and eye's

"you ok? "

"I'm fine... you need help with something?" he asked

"Tim you know you don't have to be that way not with me"

I sat on his bed he huffed shutting his laptop

"I'm fine Y/N I just need to be left alone right now"

"Tim you've been through so much you can't expect me to just let you go through this alone. I'm your sister rather if you like it or not"

"just promise me you won't leave me too sis"

"of course Timmy"

I hugged him he buried his head in my neck sobbing holding on to me tight

"I love her Y/N h-how am I supposed to live without her I was going to spend the rest of my life with her. She was my life, my happiness, my everything.. H-how am I sup-posed to go on with life without her"

"Tim I don't have the right advice but I promise you that you are going to get through this, your strong. It may take time but you are going to be OK I promise"

Damian Wayne X sister-reader!

Damian feels guilty for how he treats Y/N before he died. She's trying not to crowd him through it causes little Damian to think she doesn't care about him

I sat on the couch trying not to cry Dick just got off the phone with me telling me that Damian's alive, he's OK, he's not OK, but he will be. I hear my door open and see little D. Don't bombard him he just got back I'm sure Dick's been giving him a million hugs. Damian, folded his arms

"tt I see my sister's house hasn't been properly taken care of"

"well sometimes people grieve differently"

He looked at me shocked he looked away from me. He looks at the door. What should I do?

"father has requested that I return with you home"

"that's fine I'm feeling home sick"

Damian just stood there I grabbed my keys worrying about him. We left to go to the Manor. That evening Damian went to his room refusing too see anyone. I sat on the couch. Dick walked in he sat down next to me

"he's feeling guilty, Y/N"

"guilty! About what?"

"for how he treats you, did treat you He's afraid you don't see him the way you see me, Tim and Jason"

"Aww, Damian!"

I quickly got up I ran to his room and knocked

"hey Dami... Little D can we talk"

"there is nothing to speak of!" he snapped

"come on Damian please let me talk to you I want to see my little brother"

"I don't want to say anything to you"

"OK then just listen"

"tt fine I'm listening"

I sat against the door

"Damian, I should have told you year's ago that I love you... You are my little brother, no one can ever change that, not your grandfather, your mother, your father, not your siblings. Absolutely nothing will change the fact that I love you Damian. You are always going to be my little brother...I was a wreak Damian losing you broke me knowing I failed to say you are not a bad kid, I didn't get the chance to say goodbye, I love you little brother, I'm sorry" I broke down sobbing remorse is all I feel

Damian opened the door. I hugged him wall on my knees I stood he held on to my neck crossing his legs around me. I kissed his head he cried. That's all we both needed.

"I love you too sister"

Bat-brother's X sister-reader!

The boys help their sister

I sat on the couch my arm's bandaged, my hand wrapped in bandaging, and my legs bandaged. A sling for my broken left arm. I look like hell. I heard my phone Dick I used my good hand but I kept shaking fuck. I'm still sore. I put the phone on the table answering. I put him on speaker and laid on the couch

"I'm here"

-"hey where are you at sis"

"ho-me"

-"Y/N, what happened? Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

"P-patrol"

Fuck it hurts to talk

-"you need us to come get you?"

"I-I d-d-don't n-know" I stuttered

-"I'm on my way with our brother's"

"hmm m"

Dick hung up I laid there. I hear the car pull in. Damian, abruptly opened the door and slammed it behind him. He ran to me a glare on his face

"dammit sister!"

My head throbbed. I groaned the rest of my brother's walked in. I tried to set up

"hey take it easy sis" Dick said

Jason put pillows behind so I could sit up with ease. They all looked at me not a single smile

"wo-uld y-you guy's p-please not look at me like th-that"

"Y/N, try to quit talking" Tim said

"f-food I-in" Dick cut me off

"Y/N you've taken care of all of us for a long time it's time we help you.. Now please rest"

I took deep breaths laying down. The boys sat in front of the couch. We watched a movie eating snacks. It makes me feel better knowing they are OK and safe. I ruffle each one of their heads

"I love you boy's" they each respond with 'I love you too' in their own way

"yeah, but don't ever fucking get yourself this fucked up again!" Jason added Dick elbowed Jason. This is home. My family, is my home.

Bruce's P. O. V

Night had fallen the boys did not come for patrol meaning Y/N is not OK. I drove to my daughter's house looking for the boy's and making sure she's OK. I made it I opened the door quietly. I saw the boy's asleep on the floor leaning on the couch and each other. My daughter sound asleep. Her breathing evident she's in pain. My heart drops. I laid a blanket on the boy's. I kissed her head she touched my hand. She opened her eye's. I softly smile, shushing and shake my head intending to let her know to stay quiet. A rare occasion to have my son's and my daughter together with silence. It's pleasant.

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