#this is by far the MOST EXTRA of all batcaves

[porcelana-r0ta]

The Curse of Sight, Part 7

DCxDP

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

[Ao3 Link] (Registered Ao3 users only)

Summary: When Wes Weston meets Tim Drake-Wayne, the dots start connecting. And those dots form a bat.

xxXxx

After a phone call with his mom to confirm that it’s alright for Wes to stay the night, Rebecca leaves with the AV equipment in a Wayne vehicle with a WE driver from HQ. (She also absconds off with a few extra Alfred Pennyworth cookies, but no one calls her out on it.) Wes is then left alone with Tim for a grand tour of Wayne Manor. 

The estate is large and sprawling, but Wes is nothing if not observant and adaptive, and he makes quick work of memorizing the layout. He’s careful to make mental notes of places that could potentially hold secret passages. 

Part of Batman’s whole thing was that he had a Batcave, right? Surely it’s connected to the Manor. The entrance is most likely on the first floor for easier access if the Cave is underground, which is the most logical conclusion given that the Batcave has to hold a computer with enough processing power to be the legendary Batcomputer, all the Bat-vehicles, plus any trophies Batman has collected in his lucrative career as a vigilante. Also, if it’s as much of a cave as the name implies, it’s got to be underground. 

Not that Wes wants to go exploring. This investigation is just so he can mentally note what areas to avoid and always have plausible deniability. 

“Oh, no, Mr. Bruce Wayne, sir, I didn’t see you come out of a bookcase secret passageway with bruises that strangely match up with Batman’s. You see, I was over on the bench in the Wayne Gardens, much too far away from the Wayne Library to see any secret nightlife activities. I’m just a simple teenage boy, haha, please don’t steal my kneecaps. Anyway, what did you think of My Immortal? ”

Yes. Foolproof and non-suspicious, two of Wes’s favorite things in Gotham. He even deflects into the Brucie Wayne persona in this imaginary scenario.

God. This is too stressful. Wes knows too many people with alter egos. He needs normal friends—he can’t keep being the normal friend for abnormal people. Maybe he should start going to the community center in his mom’s neighborhood and meet normal teens with normal Gotham interests. (Wes imagines the normal Gotham teen experience to be the universal vaping and smoking, plus minor vandalism and maybe even some pickpocketing in the Diamond District. He’d sidestep any vigilante-chasers or gangsters, naturally. He’s got to avoid the Bats!)

Of the first floor, there are the following rooms: the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, the parlor, the drawing room, Mr. Wayne’s office, the game room, the theater room, the servants’ quarters, the bathrooms, and the garage.

The kitchen likely has too much foot traffic to keep a secret entrance, plus Mr. Pennyworth seems too proper to let Bat-hijinks take place anywhere near his domain. The foot traffic would remain an issue for rooms like the living room, the drawing room, and the parlor. The theater and game rooms may be an option — both had bookshelves to hold board games, video games, DVDs, and VHS tapes, and bookshelves are classic rich people hiding places. The library is another potential place, even if it’s rather stereotypical. But maybe he should expect stereotypes from the same people with a cow named Bat-Cow? 

The servants’ quarters, only occupied by Mr. Pennyworth and not included in the tour, would be an unexpected place. It may be too far out of the way, though. The bathrooms could be an option: no one is going to interrogate someone for spending too long in a bathroom. But some people are nosy about what others keep in their bathrooms, and someone as paranoid as Batman would account for that. The garage is likely too much of a security liability given that it’s right there along the driveway for an easy getaway. 

That just leaves Bruce Wayne’s office, where it wouldn’t be weird for a CEO to disappear into for hours at a time, nor would it be weird for it to be off-limits for people to be in. Wes was only shown where the room was, not the inside. It’s totally normal to not be brought into your friend’s dad’s office. So normal, in fact, that Wes wouldn’t have even questioned it if he didn’t already know that the Waynes were the Bats. 

So, avoid Bruce Wayne’s study. Not a problem for Wes because he has zero reason to go in there in the first place. This sleepover thing will be a piece of cake. 

Right now they were in the game room, playing Mario Kart 8 on the Switch. The Waynes were wealthy enough that both Tim and Wes had a pro-controller. (Eat the rich!) Right now, Wes was beating Tim by a decent margin as Luigi, but he’s not sure how much of that is Tim letting him win. He’s only played Mario Kart a few times, and never on the Switch, so he’s not really world champ. It’s nice of Tim to fake being bad, though. 

“Damn, you win again,” Tim says, watching Luigi pass the finish line, followed by his avatar, Princess Peach, seconds after. 

“‘Cause you’re going easy on me.”

“What? No I’m not.” 

“You liar.” One of the best ways to lie is to pretend to be a bad liar. Make a few sacrifices with your integrity and no one will question you when you lie well about something that actually matters. His parents taught him that. “Play better this next round.”

“Are you trash talking me?” Tim is playfully offended. 

Wes scoffs, grabbing one of the sofa cushions and setting it against the armrest. He buries himself into it, swinging his legs onto the couch. He’s just barely tall enough to shove his socked feet into Tim’s ribs where he’s sitting. “Am not. I just know that you’re a little tech nerd, and that you can totally kick my ass. No way you haven’t obsessively played Mario Kart.” 

“First of all, I resent that.” He shoves Wes’s feet away. His ears are red. Still cooling down from outside? They weren’t so red a little bit ago. “Second of all, fine. Let’s do Rainbow Road.”

“Sweet, a challenge!” 

Tim selects the Special Cup, and Wes does semi-decently in the first three courses, though Tim only barely holds onto first. The last course is Rainbow Road, and Wes proceeds to fall off the track every thirty seconds. He crosses the finish line in a very humble tenth place. Tim, impossibly, does worse than he has in previous rounds, ending in fourth place rather than the calculated second to spare Wes’s pride of their previous Cups. 

“Hmm. That was humiliating.”

They both turn to look at the doorway, where Damian Wayne lurks, holding Alfred the Cat. 

“Don’t be rude, Demon Spawn.” Tim scowls. Wes stretches his feet out to nudge at Tim admonishingly. 

“Dude, c’mon. He’s right. That was bad.” 

“Weston is correct, Drake. And besides, I was talking about you.”

“Okay, that’s it—” Whatever Tim is about to say is cut off when Wes kicks him, harder than a nudge, but not enough to hurt for longer than a few seconds. “Wes! What the hell?”

He ignores Tim, “Did you want to play, Damian?” He gestures at the TV with his controller. 

The boy straightens up, and the movement makes Alfred the Cat wriggle free of his hold. She darts into the room, behind the sectional couch and out of sight. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am merely here to relay Pennyworth’s message that supper will be ready in thirty minutes.” 

“Oh, so you’re scared that you will do worse than me?” He raises a challenging eyebrow. 

“Tt. I could defeat you and Drake blindfolded.” 

“Prove it.”

Wordlessly, Damian marches into the room and swipes the controller from Wes. He laughs, kicking his feet off the couch and getting up to grab a third controller. When he turns back to the couch, Damian is already sitting beside his big brother, his back straight and his face neutral. He turns on the controller and joins them on the couch, leaving enough room for Damian to not feel crowded with a stranger. 

The kid reminds him of some of the more minor-league ghosts who like to annoy Danny for attention. Ghosts like fighting, they like arguing. Siblings shared in that trait, usually. 

Tim grumbles and switches to three person multiplayer, then asks, “What tracks do you want to play?”

“The same one you and Weston were on. I will defeat you both.” 

“Well, definitely me,” Wes says. Damian only sniffs in response. 

They speed through character selection, Wes keeping Luigi and Tim keeping Peach, and Damian chooses Shy Guy. After choosing their vehicles (Wes is the only one who chooses a cart instead of a motorcycle), they start the Special Cup. 

They quickly discover that Damian is a ruthless competitor. Wes lets out a frustrated groan at the third green shell that hits him, whereas Tim curses at his little brother. “How are you so fucking good? I thought video games were beneath you!”

“Jon has a Switch. He likes Mario Kart and Minecraft.”

“Of fucking course he does.”  

Wes wonders who this “Jon” person is. A civilian friend? A fellow superhero? He hates knowing superhero identities, but his mind runs theories anyway. 

Damian continues to win against them, and when that gets boring, he purposely keeps a middle-pace so he can collect shells. His aim is unfortunately impeccable. After twenty minutes of losing to his little brother, Tim calls it quits. “Okay, that’s it. We need to wash up for dinner before Alfred gets mad.” 

“Scared to continue losing, Drake?”

“Hardly. Go wash your hands, brat. You were holding the cat earlier.”

“She’s cleaner than you,” Damian insults. Then, before Tim can retort, he bounds out of the room. 

Tim turns to Wes, “Dude, seriously?”

“What? He obviously wanted to hang out with you.” 

“No he didn’t! He’s Damian. He wanted to spy on me and you so he can insult us better later when you aren’t around.” 

“Mh-hm.” Wes is doubtful. “I don’t know about that. He acts like how I did when I was in middle school and wanted to hang out with my older cousin.”

“It warms my heart that you’re capable of seeing the good in evil.”

“You don’t mean that, dude.”

Tim smiles, “I guess not.” 

After washing up themselves, they head downstairs for the dining room. They are greeted by the savory scent of steak. Wes’s mouth waters. Real rich people food. 

Bruce Wayne (Batman!) is already seated at the head of the table, Damian to his right. Tim grabs Wes’s hand and pulls him to sit on the other side, with Tim acting as a buffer between him and Bruce Wayne. 

“B, this is Wes Weston, my friend. He works in PR, specifically with our TikTok team.” There is no TikTok team, unless Wes and Rebecca count as a team. What is she supposed to do when he goes back to Amity with his dad at the end of the summer? “Wes, this is Bruce, my adoptive dad.” 

Well, only after the whole fake uncle thing, Wes thinks to himself. But he isn’t supposed to know about that. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Please, call me Bruce when we aren’t at work, Wes.” Bruce Wayne grins that Brucie grin, big and disarming. I’m onto you, Batman. You can’t fool me. “It’s great to see Tim with friends his age. I had a lot of concern after he dropped out of high school, you know, but—”

“Bruce, please. Stop embarrassing me!”

“I’m just expressing my love for my son, Tim.” He turns to Damian, “Don’t follow your other brothers’ examples. Stay in school.” 

“Of course, Father,” Damian says while Wes snorts. 

The Waynes are really zero to nil on children who have high school diplomas. Dick Grayson ran off (or was run off?) at age sixteen, Jason Todd was declared dead (though Wes suspects that maybe he really did die—is there a way to get Danny and Co. to look into that without spilling identities?), and Tim dropped out and created an uncle after his parents passed so he could become a full-time CEO and vigilante (Wes should sit down with Tim and talk about good coping mechanisms, and also never admit to knowing about the fake uncle or the vigilante activities). Hell, even Bruce Wayne is a medical school dropout!

They still at least had Damian Wayne and Duke Thomas, Wes supposes. Maybe they can be the Wayne kids who finally walk at graduation. 

As if on cue, Duke Thomas trudges into the room, clearly tired from daytime patrol as The Signal. Though, Wes is likely supposed to believe that Duke is out doing volunteer work or something of the like. 

“Hey, guys. New person.” Duke squints at Wes, then rubs his eyes. A pair of tinted glasses hang on the collar of his yellow shirt. He grabs them and puts them on.

“Hello, Thomas.”

“Hey, Duke.”

“Welcome back, Duke! Have you met Wes yet? Are your headaches acting up again?” 

“Nope,” says Duke, taking his seat next to Damian. “Nice to meet you. I’m Duke. And my head’s fine.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“Is Dick still here?” Duke asks. 

Bruce shakes his head, “He had to leave to make it back to Bludhaven so he’d be able to rest before his shift with the BPD tonight.” 

Wes translates that as He’s got Nightwing work tonight. But who knows? Maybe he really does have a night shift. 

“Ah, that sucks,” Duke says.

Alfred walks in pushing a cart of the mouth-watering steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, and roasted vegetables and starts to serve everyone.

Wes may have to sleep over more often. 

“Thanks, Alfred,” Wes says when his food is plated. 

“Of course, Master Wes.”

He wrinkles his nose at that, even though Alfred’s called him that a few times upon coming in for snacks after filming. Being called “master” makes him feel like some kind of egocentric wealthy elitist. 

“So, Wes,” Bruce Wayne, literally Batman, starts after everyone has been served. Wes straightens up tp better search for any signs of dinnertime kneecap removal. “You’re Penny’s son and that you intern at WE. How are you liking it so far?”

Normal dinnertime conversation. Excellent. Wes has been to dinners every evening of his life, so he should ace this. 

“It’s fun. I mean, I just did coffee runs and stuff at first, but it’s a lot more engaging now that Rebecca is running the TikTok and is using me as her Gen Z brain monkey.” 

“She’s not that much older than you.” Tim rolls his eyes. 

“The WE TikTok is doing very well,” Bruce compliments as if Tim hadn’t opened his mouth. “We should have started one much sooner.”

“I love the one you’re in. Wes, the one where you talk about the American public school experience,” Duke says, rubbing at his temple. Which is unhelpful because Wes directly made fun of Bruce Wayne in that one. “Sorry about the maybe trauma it inflicted.”

He winces, “I mean, it was fine. We were in a safe room the whole time. It genuinely was like the average American high school experience.” He cuts a concerned look at Bruce. The guy who literally can fire his mom and also rip out his kneecaps if he decides to take offense to something dumb Wes says. He just can’t help it—he’s an Amity Park teenager!

Bruce notices and laughs, “Now, now, none of that! I think it’s great that you raised awareness about school shootings. I’m very aware of my privilege, and I don’t have any hard feelings about it being called out.”

“That’s… good.” 

Tim nudges him from under the table with his foot. When Wes looks at him, he’s smiling. Wes’s stomach twists. It’s not an unpleasant feeling. 

Damian sniffs, “Well, nothing will compare to the appearances of Bat-Cow, Titus, Alfred the Cat, and Haley.”

“Everyone will love them,” Wes agrees. “People go crazy for animals.” 

“They would be wrong not to.”

“Wes, not to be rude, but are you from Gotham?” Duke asks. He squints from behind his tinted glasses. “You don’t have a Gothamite accent.”

“That’s not rude at all.” Wes racks his brain for reasons why the meta vigilante might look constipated whenever he looks at him. Is it an Amity Park thing? The Signal’s power set isn't 100% known—the only things confirmed by witness accounts are light and shadow manipulation. Is the electromagnetic radiation spectrum that Duke can see wider than a baseline human’s, thus allowing him to see more visible light? Can Duke see auras? Can he see ectoplasmic radiation? Can he see that radiation in Wes? 

He needs to be careful about what he says. “I’m from Amity Park, Illinois. So is my mom. But she and my dad divorced a few years ago and now I visit Gotham every other holiday and every summer.” 

“Oh damn, that sucks, dude.”

“Nah, it’s fine. They were super chill about it.” They had an amicable divorce. Wanted different things. His parents still text semi-regularly, and they will usually steal Wes’s phone for a few minutes when he’s talking to the other. They might still be together if his mom hadn’t wanted to move up in her career and his dad hadn’t been firm on staying in Amity, or if they’d both been okay with long distance. 

Still… it would be nice to be a complete family, again. Together and whole. Preferably in an Amity Park not infested with white suits or ectophobic ghost hunters. 

Ugh. He really needs to call his dad after work tomorrow. Maybe his cousin, too.

Dinner goes smoothly from there, and after, Tim drags Wes to the movie room to watch Lord of the Ring: Fellowship of the Ring before turning into bed. When the credits roll, he asks, “Are you cool with just staying in my room, or do you wanna stay in the guest room?”

Honestly, what kind of rich people shit is that question? (Ignoring that his mom owns a townhouse in Gotham City and is the director of Wayne Enterprises’s PR Department. He had humble beginnings!)

“Your room is fine,” Wes says. 

“You… just wanna share the bed?” 

Wes had seen Tim’s bedroom in the tour already. He had a California king sized bed. Sleeping in a bed that size would be just the same as sleeping in separate sleeping bags on the floor in terms of intimacy. 

“Yeah, that’s fine, dude.” 

Fast forward to them actually in pajamas and actually under blankets and actually turning off their phones for the night, and Wes is learning that it’s actually not fine. 

He’s hyper-aware of Tim’s form beneath the blankets, the same blankets Wes is under. And sure, they are on separate ends of the bed, nearly three feet between them, but still. 

He’s slept in the same bed as a few friends before, but that had stopped around middle school, when it was suddenly gay for guys to do that. Wes is secure in his sexuality, sure, but he was still in a small Midwestern town at the time, so he hadn’t exactly wanted to do anything to confirm any queerness about him. 

Tim, on the other hand, has been publicly bisexual for a while now. And he wasn’t in the room with Wes when he’d gotten his fitting and made his request that his suit reflect his sexuality, so he didn’t know that Wes was any flavor of MLM. (He’d been too insecure about his lanky basketball player frame to let a superhero overhear his measurements.) 

Is it weird that Wes knows Tim’s sexuality but Tim doesn’t know his while they share a bed? Is it creepy? Is it wrong? Should Wes say something? Or would it be even creepier to come out while in Tim’s bed? Fuck, is it hot in here?

He kicks a leg out from under the covers, allowing it to be exposed to cool air. It’s completely dark in the room, but he stares at where his foot should be. Should he have worn socks to make it not gay? Is it gay at all? What even is “it” at this point, anyway?

He forces a deep breath. This is probably not weird. It probably would be weird if he did decide to come out while sharing a bed with his friend, who is a queer vigilante and his boss and could have his adoptive father rip out Wes’s spine if he so wished. 

Right. So Wes needs to chill the fuck out and think of literally anything else. 

His first thought is unfortunately that time he fell off the monkey bars in the first grade and landed on top of Paulina Sanchez, who had cried and hated him until sixth grade for it. 

Even worse, his second thought is of his parents’ divorce, and he wants to slap himself. But he can’t do that when there’s a maybe-sleeping-maybe-not body next to him, so instead he takes another deep, quiet breath.

He thinks of Duke Thomas and the way he squinted at Wes. Right, light and shadow manipulation. But to what extent? The way he reacted to Wes might suggest he can see more than a regular human’s visible light spectrum. (More colors, like a shrimp?) If he can see ecto-radiation, then he can see that there’s something off about Wes, who has lived in Amity since the portal’s opening nearly a year ago. The average Amity Parker has a little ecto-contamination in them, but Wes’s may be higher thanks to his stalking of Team Phantom. 

So Duke might know that he’s a little irradiated. Not a big deal, Amity’s a small town. There’s no reason to assume that Duke will meet other Amity Parkers and start to ask questions. 

But what would happen if the Guys In White decide to outsource help and they decide that someone who can see more forms of light would be beneficial to the cause? 

….Fuck. He was supposed to calm himself down, not work himself up.

Wes settles in for a long night. 

xxXxx

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Ao3 is updated first BUT I upload onto Tumblr 10-30 minutes after uploading on Ao3, so don’t worry about missing out on early content or anything. Everything is updated within the hour :)

[intriq]

Grief

batfam grief fic that i've been working on for far too long! is finally here! im back with the angst bois. i'd also like to apologize if this is insanely inaccurate/ooc of them bc lol its me

characters: Bruce, Dick, some of Tim

dividers thanks to cafe kitsune as always

There are five stages of grief. Bruce knows this. He’s dealt with them before.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

Acceptance isn’t a stage Bruce has really gotten to yet. He doesn’t think so, at least. Not sure he ever will. He’s faced the anger and depression before, when his parents died. How he’d taken his anger out on the criminal underbelly of Gotham, using his anger to cleanse her streets of crime. Then spend hours in front of his parents grave, unable to think nor speak.

Now he has another grave to sit in front of, too. Jason’s grave. His second Robin, the one who he wants to make the last. He doesn’t want to doom another boy to death, not when he’d failed Jason.

Some days, Bruce can’t help but wander Crime Alley. Like he was hoping that someway, somehow, he’d run into that scrawny kid Jason had been back then. He’d give anything to see him trying to steal a tire off the Batmobile again. Anything. Hell, he wouldn’t even mind being hit with the tire-iron again.

He also sometimes wonder if Dick blames him just as much as he blames himself. If only he’d been a little faster. If only he could have been quicker, then he could’ve saved him. Saved his son.

Sometimes, when he closes his eyes, he can still see the explosion before him. The bright glowing hues, vibrant enough to leave specks of color behind his eyes for days to come. The sudden wash of heat, the ringing in his ears. Some days he can still hear and see the explosion that took his son from him, left him as a failure of a father and mentor.

He makes himself remember his failure by putting up a memorial of Jason in the Batcave. Curse him if he ever dared to forget his greatest failure; the failure to save his son.

The failure of not being able to protect him.

Dick could never blame Bruce. Bruce hadn’t been the one to set that bomb. Bruce hadn’t been the one to beat Jason senseless. But that didn’t mean he had the courage to go over and visit.

Not when Jason’s memorial, even his own grave would be there to taunt him. To give him a bitter reminder that his little wing was gone. He wishes he’d visited Gotham more often before Jason died, spent a little more time there. His way of grieving Jason’s death is quiet, with his emotions doing all the talking behind the doors of his apartment.

Dick is broken by the loss, but he is nowhere near as shattered as Bruce. Dick is used to working alone now. Bruce has to grow used to the quiet. How he can’t turn to ask his Robin a question to keep him on his toes and alert.

He also has to see how Alfred sometimes forgets to not set out an extra plate where Jason would sit to eat. Pot roast doesn’t taste quite as good as it used to; no matter how good of a cook Alfred is. It just makes him nauseated by the smell of it; and now it had been Jason’s favorite.

Criminals whisper and talk about how Joker seems to have broken Batman, with the way he wanders. The Gotham Gazette talks about how distanced and quiet billionaire Bruce Wayne seems. Citing testimonies from Wayne Enterprises employees of how he seems to look out the windows if his office; as if he were in a different place. In a trance.

Of course, Bruce doesn’t try to let this impact his work. He works more than he used to. Makes a record of locking up criminals and going through dizzying stacks of documents in mere hours.

Bruce busies himself. Drowns himself in work he knows that can be easily delegated to Lucius. Works himself until he’s dead tired, unable to keep his eyes open a moment longer. Even with the aide of caffeine, he still manages to fall asleep. Most nights his efforts are fruitful, and he doesn’t dream. That’s what he wants, to dream of nothing but a void. But that’s only most nights.

Other nights, Bruce dreams. He dreams vivid memories of that night. It’s an endless loop, though. Each time he thinks he gets close enough to save Jason, the warehouse explodes before him and he’s right back to where he started. Running, failing. Running and failing. Running, failing, repeat.

Over and over again. It’s the same ending each time; plays out the same each time. All until he finally wakes up and is freed by the waking world from the relentless cycle.

Bruce once dreamt that he succeeded; saved his son in time. Cradled his son’s broken body in his arms and told him he was sorry, holding him as gentle as he can so he doesn’t hurt him further. That time he’d even told his son, in that dream, that it’s okay to fail sometimes. He didn’t have to be the perfect Robin. That he didn’t need to be as great of a Robin as Dick was. That he was good enough in his own right, in his own way. Even apologizing for never saying it when he should’ve, promising to say it more often.

And then he woke up.

He woke up and remembered that he hadn’t saved his son. That he didn’t get to him in time. He’d been too late, just like his apologies were coming far too late.

When Tim first comes into the picture, taking the mantle as Robin via means of blackmail, he wasn’t expecting the void it had left for him to fill. Bruce always seemed careful around him, sometimes nearly calling him by a name that wasn’t his. Jason. It happened quite a bit the first few weeks, and Alfred had almost mistakenly had him sit where Jason used to.

Tim does his best to learn about Jason. Trying to find scraps of information throughout the manor, trying to piece together what he needed to figure out just how big the void he was filling was. And it’s hard to find much of anything, besides pictures. But he did learn more from the library, which had been neglected since his death. Alfred came in to clean it, of course. But it otherwise was devoid of people.

Tim learned about Jason through the books he’d read, reading his annotations. Noting how some books seemed more loved than the others. And what he deduced was simple.

He could be Robin, but he could never be the same Robin neither Dick or Jason were. He could never completely fill the shattered void left by Jason’s violent death. And he hoped he never would.

Sometimes Tim can’t help but feel like he doesn’t belong. The way the memorial for Jason stands in the Batcave, almost like a hovering promise to tell Tim that he had no right to be here. What good had he done, forcing a man to take him on in the same role his dead son once held? What right did Tim have to sit in the mantle of Robin? What audacity?

Perhaps even now, Tim will wonder what right he had. What right to demand to be Bruce’s next Robin. Because he’ll never know, truly. He may think of himself as better than Jason, but is he truly?

tags: @brucewaynesspouse @fallingwaynes @mysticalemmi @slutforjasontodd @sylvemooniet @ceyla016 [<---hi there!]

i feel like im forgetting some people to tag lmao

[emcant]

Batfic concept: What I Learned On My Summer Vacation

Several disclaimers: I have never actually written a fanfic. I'm a hair too old and sheltered to have gotten both into it and good at it; my skill set does not reflect my age, and I'd like to rectify that.

Batman: TAS swept me off my feet about five years ago. Ever since I fall asleep thinking about the blorbos, and I can't sleep tonight. One of the other can'ts that my handle refers to is "draw" - I'd like to learn, mostly to sketch these out. But I have already seen such an explosion of talent since rejoining tumblr that I think this is better offered to you as is. Please, take this and run with it! You can do a better job than I can.

The Jarley dynamic is 1000% radioactive and I do not condone it in the slightest - but I grew up in a verbally ab*sive household. I have heard my parents say things to me that the Joker says to her. I live for early Harley's little "this isn't right" moments, her gradual but ever growing realization that she's worth more. I'm thrilled she got written out and into happiness, but I recognize her most- and need her most- under this specific kind of duress.

Word count: Up to you (nsfw also up to you)

Pairing: the Joker/Harley Quinn

Summary:

Dick, as Nightwing, gives a presentation in the Batcave about his new intel on the Joker and Harley. He evidently just tangled with them and returned unhurt. He's as confused as anyone else, and is frankly unsure he has any valuable new info. Mostly he's here to talk it out.

A few days earlier, much to his chagrin, he got called away from something important to speed after a crime in progress. This is early Nightwing as well; he is less than pleased at still being at Bruce's beck and call. Facing traffic on the main roads, he elects to speed through a back road on the way to a campsite. This works grandly - until he encounters an RV with an open passenger side door. Unable to stop the bike in time, he slams into the door with enough force to pull it off of its hinges. He flies, briefly, and lands firmly on his back.

And all that's around him is laughter. Briefly. It cuts short, and into a vehement "Do NOT do that!" the second he tries to sit up. Eyes focusing, he takes in the Joker, smothering giggles outside the driver's side, and Harley looking terrified and approaching him like he's a wounded animal. Neither of them are costumed.

This situation is the last thing any of them want. All of them assume that Dick's been concussed. Harley eases him out of his helmet; the Joker passes him a pair of sunglasses off of his person. Even though he's costumed and likely has a wallet on him, they are suspiciously un-keen to figure out who he is. The Joker disappears with the bike and helmet, hurls them over the side of the road and empties an entire clip of bullets into them with a silenced pistol, partly as a message but mostly from frustration. Harley retrieves or constructs a neck brace for Dick and opens a side door to let the hyenas out. With her around, they leave him alone.

On the Joker's return, they very gently get Dick into the master bed, and proceed down the road as they had been. Dick is conscious but extremely confused. They mostly talk to each other: this sucks and they both hate it, but "we agreed". Dick asks: What did they agree? This is their vacation: no business, and business includes winding each other up. No raised voices, no manhandling, no insults - if someone gets pissed off, they're to walk it off and come back happy. As far as they're concerned, they've just got an extra guest now; they won't do anything bad to him because, for all intents and purposes, Batman doesn't even exist. Both of them hate this but are trying to make it work.

Mostly, they came out to see a rarer meteor shower, so they have the rest of the day and all of daylight tomorrow as time to kill. Things ensue. Teaching Bud and Lou new tricks (they nip the Joker hard enough to draw blood but he's too proud that they pulled it off to notice), teaching Harley to count cards (she insists on making it strip poker when she wins), Harley teaching the Joker some basic acrobatics (he sucks and won't take Dick's input), figuring out a grill, day drinking. Consistently, there are opportunities for them to lash out at each other; as consistently, the instigator walks off and the other person talks to Dick about something else. Dick reflects that this side of them feels like visiting an aunt and uncle, but ones that are better seen in small doses.

(Side plot?: the Joker realizes that if he gets sunburned enough, he will not be recognizable, and achieves this in about 15 minutes. Now, like Dick and Harley, he can walk off camp without worrying about getting identified, and gloats about it a bit - but every motion hurts.)

(Side HCs: the RV is Chief O'Hara's retirement gift to himself. Also, this is the Joker's birthday weekend, so Harley might have gifts of a certain nature ready for him once they get to bed.)

Finally the meteor shower arrives. Dick has been stuck lying on his back this entire time - they are all a bit frightened to move his neck. More gently than you might expect, the rogues ease him outside so he doesn't miss the show. Why so gentle? Well, they've both been concussed (likely by him), and again, this is a vacation. He ought to be living it up too.

They watch the stars and talk about how the biggest privilege in Gotham is to be able to get out of Gotham. You really can't even see the night sky most of the time. They talk about their dads and what they wanted for them, and how frequently wrong that felt. They drink. (After a bit Dick presses them: really, nothing illegal? - then retrieves rolling papers and a small amount of weed from his costume. The Joker just about dies laughing. They share.)

Dick retires to the camper's bedroom again. The Joker and Harley set up cots under a mosquito net and sleep under them with the hyenas (maybe after doing some things that Dick really didn't need to overhear). The Joker wakes up to the hyenas whining, and briefly thinks that they can't figure out that they're already outside... until he sees a smoke plume in the distance. The bike! Worried that the road is closed, he hustles everyone into the RV and drives out of there like a bat out of hell. As they move, it becomes clear that they're passing into a forest fire. He must have set off a spark when he shot out the fuel tank.

And the facade falls. He comes clean. Harley didn't know he'd been packing this whole time: "what are you, crazy?". They shout at each other the rest of the way off the site - but ultimately come out unscathed, dropping Dick at the first city bus stop they see. Uncaring again. In media res.

But Dick feels different. Weird. Not like he's grown, necessarily, but like he's seen something he didn't know existed. If they can have passably normal times outside of the life, why can't he? He deserves happiness too - and, he realizes, his is almost certainly more genuine.

His presentation ends, in so many words, with "that was strange but I'm fine".

[batfall-moved]

   1   /    10    BATCAVES   ,   𝚒𝚝   𝚠𝚊𝚜   𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍   𝚒𝚝   𝚠𝚊𝚜   𝙵𝙰𝚁   𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖  𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖   𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚝   𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘   𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎  𝚘𝚏   𝚊   𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗.   𝚑𝚘𝚠   𝚑𝚎  𝚍𝚒𝚍  𝚒𝚝  ?   𝚠𝚎’𝚕𝚕   𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛  𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠.   

[briarscreek]

The Hidden Library

Summary: You find a hidden library at Bruce Wayne’s Estate and an unexpected (but hot) guest surprises you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Note: y’all are so horny for this man and i am too so here ya go. also, alfred is a little ooc since i didn’t want to specify pronouns and give everyone a chance to read themselves in this story. <33 (this is also my first fic so pls let me know your input!)

How exactly did you find yourself in this situation, you had no idea. Well, you had some idea but not enough to comprehend that it was actually happening to you.

Almost a year ago, you had accepted the job of being Bruce Wayne’s Secretary. With the added stress of a very busy CEO and his constant disappearances, it was harder than you expected to help maintain his image of Gotham’s richest celebrity. So one late night at Wayne Tower when Bruce stopped by to pick up some paperwork while in a full tactical bat suit without the cowl caused your boss to reveal his biggest secret.

Bruce Wayne was Batman.

This didn’t necessarily shock you at first, it was more like finding the last and most crucial piece of a 1,000 piece puzzle that had been stuck under your couch for the last 5 months. The sudden excuses, random injuries, and multiple coffee cups a day had finally all made sense.

With the added knowledge of his secret identity, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots between his family and the bat dressed people running around Gotham. After that day, you started to uncover the human side of not only your boss but his kids as well. Dick was the resident goofball, Tim had coffee running through his veins, Barbara and Cass would let you in on their gossip sessions, Duke would teach you about the batcave and Damian constantly walked around like his kitana was glued to his hands. But one person in particular stood out from their unruly crowd. That would be one Jason Todd.

From the moment you met him for the first time, it didn’t take much detective work to realize you would have a crush the size of Metropolis for this man. The problem wasn’t that he was incredibly handsome and charming, it was that he knew it too. Mix a dash of danger, with a splash of a handsome face and a gallon of confidence; and you’d get an incredibly attractive man with extra fries on the side. Nevertheless, you kept it cool while trying to talk to him. Emphasis on trying.

For instance, a nervous habit that you developed while growing up was to subtly avoid and participate in a conversation by making yourself seem occupied with something else in your hands. Whether that be on your phone, writing something down, or even fiddling with the ends of your nails. This happened constantly while you were around Jason. You wanted to seem cool while also not giving away the middle school type crush you had on him.

It was on a random Tuesday evening that a pipe burst in your $300 per month Gotham apartment, which caused heavy water damage to spill into your kitchen and living room. You can’t really complain since the reason rent was so cheap was because of Gotham’s unnaturally high crime rate. It might just be the 45-year-old pipes or Scarecrow messing with the water supply again. Either way, the situation would sort itself out in about a week.

Being the generous philanthropist that he was, Bruce offered you to stay in one of the bedrooms at his mansion. You initially declined at first but the mention of Alfred’s cooking had you packing your bags faster than The Flash.

All this aside, let’s focus on what happened today.

Around 1am, you decided to wander down to the batcave in your pajamas and stick your nose in what ‘mission’ they had that night. Surprisingly, Alfred was the only one sitting at the computer while occasionally pressing a finger to his ear talking to the vigilantes that occupied the massive estate upstairs.

“So what villain is on the schedule for tonight?” you said while standing next to Alfred, announcing your arrival.

“No one so far, just patrolling. I believe they are finishing up as we speak.”

You knew this, since the only times any major villain actually did something was all coincidentally scheduled on the 2nd Thursday of every month. No one really caught on to this until you decided to map out Bruce’s and Batman’s coinciding schedule. You still haven’t told them this part yet, since a day off for them could potentially become the worst night in Gotham for victims of smaller crimes.

“Sounds fun.” You retorted to no one in particular.

Alfred turned his chair to face you, studying your slightly bored and exhausted expression.

“Do you like to read?” He asked out of the blue. You turned away from the computer screen to face him.

“Yes. Why?”

“Well, if you are planning on waiting for them to return, you could do that in library. It will take them at least an hour to take off their suits and discuss the next few villain cases.”

You were a little taken aback by his suggestion. Not offended, just surprised that he somehow knew you liked to read.

“That doesn’t sound too bad. If anyone needs me, let them know I’ll be in the library please.”

Turning to walk away, Alfred couldn’t help but answer back to you.

“Yes, if Master Todd needs you to patch him up, I’ll tell him where you are.”

Pivoting back to see Alfred’s smirk on his face left you with a small blush on yours.

“Alfred! I was talking about everyone! Not just Jason.”

“Oh yes. Whatever you say.”

Knowing you weren’t gonna win this argument, you stomped up the stairs while feeling Alfred’s smugness behind you the entire time.

In a haze of slight anger and embarrassment, you had begun to walk around in Bruce’s home without taking note of your surroundings. Even though you had moved in for a short while, you still had no idea what the layout of the mansion actually was. The only places you knew how to get to were the batcave, your room, the living room, and kitchen. Other than that you were stumped. Sometimes, you would have to call someone on your phone to help guide you but that was a little impossible since you had somehow forgot your phone in your room.

The feeling of a never ending labyrinth came to a halt once you opened a door on the 2nd (or maybe you were on the 3rd?) floor, three doors down from the stairs. Swinging the door open, you were met with floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall bookshelves and a gray bed positioned in a cutout specifically for it.

Huh, you thought. I didn’t know Bruce would stick a day bed in a library, that’s actually a genius move.

After perusing the shelves for a few minutes, you finally settled on a blue covered book and laid down on the bed. You adjusted to a comfortable position on the bed with your head on a pillow and your legs crossed, with one foot hanging in the air.

This particular book you decided to read was one you knew that suddenly became popular on a few websites in the past couple of weeks. It was described as a wild ride from beginning to end and you were mildly intrigued about starting it. You finally began to devour the words on the pages like there was no tomorrow, fully engrossed in the plot to not care about the outside world around you. If you were paying attention, you would of heard the door open slowly.

“Whatcha reading?” A familiar voice asked, startling you from the fantasy world you wrapped yourself in.

Jason stood, leaning against the door frame of the room while you were slowly sitting up on your elbows.

“Oh, hey Jason. I found Bruce’s private library.”

“Private library?”

“Yea, he’s got some surprisingly raunchy stuff in here. I mean, I found Ice-Planet Barbarians; which is in itself hilarious that Bruce has it of all people.”

You held the book that you were referring to in your hand, and continued to read it. More like pretend so that you didn’t have to make direct eye contact with him.

“What part are you on right now?” He lowered his voice while sauntering towards you on the bed.

It made your heart stop and drop to your stomach with the way that he was looking at you. Like he was closing in on a target.

“Uh, well, um.”

You had completely forgotten the entire book. On to a new tactic.

“Wait, what time is it?”

“It’s almost 3am, last I checked” Jason responded.

He started to finally take off arm guards, setting them on the table. He walked around like he knew the layout of the room.

Wait if he knew the layout of the room-

“JASON, IS THIS YOUR ROOM?”

He smiled while slightly wincing at you, chuckling at your reaction.

“Lower your voice will ya? People are sleeping a few doors down.”

Mortification filled you as you quickly launched yourself off the his bed.

“I am so sorry! I just thought it was Bruce’s cheesy romance library. I had no idea! Especially since I still have no idea the layout of this place. I seriously think that this place could give the Labyrinth a run for it’s money-“

With every step you took backward towards the door, Jason took a matching one. Until your back was against the door and he placed his hand on your mouth, stopping your ramble.

“There’s no need to apologize. I liked seeing you on my bed.”

You were now only inches from each other’s faces. Eyes widened, as you realized he not only had a hand on your mouth, but the other was pressed against the door behind you. Effectively caging you in, the tension rose between the two of you. One you had been avoiding from believing was real because of the overwhelming fear of giving yourself your own hope.

He slowly slid his hand down, gliding it along your cheek effectively tracing the skin. He looked concerned, so deep in thought he almost closed the gap between your lips.

“Why do you ignore me?”

“Ignore you? I don’t ignore you.” You said in a breathless whisper.

“Yea, you do. You never fully engage with me when I try to talk to you.”

You contemplated about finally saying it out loud.

“If I tell you, will you promise not to laugh at me?”

“Why would I laugh at you?”

“Jay, I’m being serious.” You stated, while still actively avoiding his intense eye contact.

“Alright fine, I promise.”

You still couldn’t look at him, so you squeezed your eyes shut.

“You make me nervous.”

“I do?” He stated with slight amusement in his tone.

“Yea, you do. God, I am about to sound like the stupidest person in the world right now but I have feelings for you.”

He stayed silent so you peeked your eyes open to gauge his reaction.

He was stunned, like he was hit with some sort of gas from one Gotham’s villains. His face split into a grin as he tried to keep his laughter to himself.

“Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

Jason finally collected himself, still not letting any distance increase between the two of you.

“No, no. It’s not that. I just think it’s hilarious that the reason you slightly avoid me is the same reason I talk to you everyday.”

…

WHAT???

“Are you being serious?” You said, trying to comprehend what he was saying.

“As serious as I am about kissing you right now.”

Something in you snapped, and a rush of confidence came to you that you didn’t know how to control.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

You finally held Jason’s eye contact, but only for a second before they instinctively closed when Jason brought his lips to yours.

Your hands explored his chest and shoulders while his never left your face. Your mouth opened slightly to invite his tongue in. You couldn’t get enough of him, and him of you either. But all good things must come to an end as you both parted for air.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’d really like to wine and dine you before we go any further.”

You chuckled, “I’d really like that”.

Jason had another thing on his mind as he pulled away from you slightly.

“I know it’s late, or early, but would you read to me from that book?”

“Sure, but only if you actually go to sleep.”

“I’ll agree to that, but only if we get to recreate a few of those scenes from Ice Planet together.”

“JASON!”

[anothertimdrakestan]

Batfam On A Road Trip HC

req: “Batfam on a road trip? It’s been on my mind for like a week-”

oh god it’s probably so chaotic... and like distinctly dangerous???

also this is my car AU where there’s infinite rows of seats in the car until I’m done.

we’ve got Bruce driving - even though Damian, Dick, Tim, Jason, AND Steph all tried to get behind the wheel but after last years incident the only people allowed to drive are Bruce and Duke but Duke doesn’t like driving with his siblings bouncing off the damn walls.

Speaking of Duke, mans snagged himself a window seat SO FAST it would make your head spin. He likes to sit next to Damian (who got put in the middle because he’s the smallest) and they share earbuds and Duke’s phone which is loaded with like 128 hours of songs. Against popular belief, Damian is actually good at sharing when it’s not with one of his more “obnoxious” siblings and he and Duke get along really well - they also have the same music taste. Duke changes between queue-ing songs, staring out the window making little stories in his head, and watching Damian draw. He occasionally is tasked with holding the sharp objects smuggled into the car after they’re discovered by Bruce as he’s the second most responsible (after Cass).

Speaking of the most responsible sibling, Cass somehow got shotgun next to Bruce. This is because she’s the only who makes him not want to throw himself out of the car and she’s a pretty good navigator. So, as she tries to moderate the back of the car she also is in charge of agreeing on pit stops and coffee breaks which works well because Cass is fair and no one can be an asshole to her. On the first road trip Cass discovered a Wendy’s Frosty and now she will usually write at least one Wendy’s stop into the trip - no one complains except Tim who is forbidden from ordering the spicy nuggets after last years incident.

Tim, the one notorious for threatening to throw himself out of the car most often, is sat in the far back. He someone gets a row to himself under the guise of “sleeping” when in reality he spends the trip typing away on his laptop, chugging monster energy drinks, and occasionally trying to make Dick bark like a dog through some kind of sleep-manipulation he read about one night at 2am. It involves him whispering in his ear and usually ends up making the whole car uncomfortable, except Jason who thinks it’s the funniest shit ever. However, after the incident his back seat gets thoroughly checked by Bruce for stowaways every pitstop, but he’d never store a secret in the same place twice...

We move to Jason! Who sits next to Steph. They’re the snack distributors. Known for throwing popcorn in the other’s mouths but it usually ends up being thrown at Bruce, Damian, or both. Jason is a champ at fruit roll up eating competitions. He claims it’s because his tongue is so strong from eating... nevermind. Jason is surprisingly organized about the snacks, and frequently restocks (with Bruce’s credit card of course) on pit stops. Jason likes to complain early into the trip but by the end he’s telling the most fun stories, singing the loudest, and causing the most trouble. His and Steph’s row is definitely the most fun. But he’s still on the list with Bruce after helping Tim become a world class smuggler during the trip that shall not be named.

Steph is the family interpreter. She shares messages from the back to the front and vice versa. She’s known for saying the back row is hungry when it was in fact her but everyone loves her for her honesty. She’s the first to ask for a leg stretch break, and the one who puts on good songs after Dick has had the aux for too long. She’s basically the lorax of the batfam road trip. She usually makes the snack packs that are distributed throughout the car and is known for memorizing everyone’s favorites to optimize the best snacks. Steph actually wasn’t in the car for the great incident, she often questions what happened but only knows what Dick quietly whispered to her, something about feeding nuggets to a foreign passenger...

Dick, the storyteller, the terrible-music-meister, the road trip organizer himself, sits on the other side of Damian. He was the one who purposefully cleared everyone’s schedule for the weekend and who roughly planned the route. Dick works closely with Cass to make sure they’re going the right way and he also mediates all fights that occur during the trip, and trust that there are a lot. Dick is known for being restless and often throws his head out the window on the freeway “just to feel something” his quote not mine. Dick is incharge of taking all dangerous items off Damian (and sometimes Tim’s) person before the trip and he was in the most trouble when the intruders were found during last years incident. But he took it with stride and promised Bruce this year would be better!

Damian, the deeply unhappy middle seater, can be found drawing and pretending he can’t hear Grayson blabbing on about “this crazy adventure he had as Robin so sooo long ago”. Damian is known for pouting through the first stop but after he’s had some quiet time he can actually be seen with the corners of his mouth upturned- especially if they drive past farms during the trip (Cass tries extra hard to make sure they do). Damian also had been known to try to run away during stops so he’s kind of heavily watched by Bruce and Dick. Luckily, his place in the middle seat means he’s far enough away from Tim to be “bothered by his mere presence” which is a significant win and close enough to Duke and Cass to keep him sane.

We are in fact missing two main people: Babs and Alfred. These two opt to stay home, getting the much deserved break they need. They like to have tea parties, cleaning extravaganzas, and (though they won’t admit it) the occasional dance break in the batcave when no one’s looking. They like to take the batmobile to get food and their guilty pleasure is watching rom-coms on the giant screen in the batcave while eating “trashy takeaways” as Alfred so eloquently calls them. These two have the best time, but if anyone asks they were simple awaiting the rest of their families return.

That’s how I think it’d go down! Overall I think it would be chaotic but not as bad as one might think, they are family after all : )

Oh wait, I forget, there are two more stowaways...

Bart and Kon are silent, Kon mostly flies above but occasionally slips into the trunk to rest with Bart. Bart easily slips into the trunk and is quite literally gone in a flash if Bruce ever suspects anything. Just because Tim can’t hand feed him nuggets doesn’t mean the boy isn’t read for road trip part two! He just hopes Kon made a flying stop at tacobell because he’s getting kinda hungry...

“Timmmm are we there yet?”

“DID I JUST HEAR WHAT I THINK I DID TIM”

“oh my god I finally experienced the great incident but now part two!”

“hi Steph! Yeah I’m here! Sorry Brucie, but yeah, can you pass me a twizzler?”

“HOW DID YOU DO THIS AGAIN TIM I SWEAR TO-”

yup, now that’s a batfam road trip : )

[catxsnow]

OBVIOUSLY UNOBVIOUS T.D.

Request: I have a request ! It's kinda angsty but what if tim and y/n work together(maybe your like second in comment at WE), and y/n knows his secret, y/n is also very strong(powers or not up to you ) and Tim manages to convince her to join the Titans.y/n likes him , and she can't help but be jealous of him and Cassandra's friendship.y/n tries not to like cass but fails Bc she's just that good of a friend 

Sorry it's a Tim request! Where Tim and y/n are unaware of their feelings for each other. So Tim asks cass to be touchy, more friendly, and y/n is unaffected but on the inside she's boiling , so she asks Bart to be extra flirty, and it's just one big hot mess. 

Request for Tim falling for the new member of the Titans , y/n the protege of green arrow/black canary , Tim bring mad protective/jealous every time Bart flirts with her, yn being oblivious as hell

Warning: fluff, mentions of blood, 

A/N: I combined three requests because they were all kinda simliar in the bart/cassie making reader jealous so I hope you don’t mind. 

Word Count: 4k

Joining the Teen Titans had not been your idea. At all.

Tim pestered you for months to join his silly little band of sidekicks. You met him not long after he 'saved' you from a night of patrol gone wrong. New to Gotham and not quite understanding just how much of a hell hole it was. Avoiding Batman was easier than you thought - but Robin? Not so much.

Robin was kind to you, unlike his mentor. He always had a boyish smile for you, some explanation of the new tech he got excited over, and he never questioned who you really were. You knew that he knew your entire identity, how could the great Batman let his sidekick cohort with an unnamed masked vigilante?

You found yourself seeking his company more than seeking criminals at night. It wasn't just having someone watch your back, it was even if you didn't know who was hiding under the mask you felt like you could trust him. Robin quickly became the one person you could constantly rely on.

Robin was somehow always there when you got yourself into a tight situation. Cornered by goons that outnumbered you by a landslide, an unexpected amount of hired guns at a drug bust, even when you stumbled upon higher up criminals did he managed to be there just in the nick of time.

The reliance became almost unhealthy. Any time you were stuck in a rut you told yourself he would be there, he would always be there. And then he wasn't. In the moments that you needed him most, he wouldn't show up at all. Bloody and bruised, you'd barely make it out alive because you believed that he would show up.

It was your own fault for putting faith in someone you didn't even know the name of. Batman and Robin had their own issues, their own battles to fight - they didn't always have the time for yours.

A freezing Saturday night Batman had found you barely breathing in a dark alley. Ganged up out of the blood, trauma to the head that left you dazed and barely able to fight. It was a small gang that you thought you had taken down months ago - turns out they were just hiding in the shadows and waiting to attack.

They left you half-dead in the alley, hoping that you would have learned your lesson to not mess with them again. Instead, it made you angry - furious at them, at yourself for messing up like this. Revenge was the only thing on your mind while you tried to push yourself up to move again.

Truth was, if it wasn't for Batman showing up, you weren't sure if you would have ever made it back home alive. He took you to the infamous batcave, tended to your wounds like his own sidekick. He was silent, just as he always was whenever he saw you and Robin together. The quiet made it painfully obvious that Robin wasn't there that night.

You woke up in the early hours of the morning, still in the cave and with an unfamiliar face at your side. Dark tufts of black hair that stuck up in every direction, sharp cheekbones that could barely be seen from the hand resting on his face. He wore shorts, despite the cold that lingered in the air.

Your eyes flickered to the Robin costume that was displayed in a glass stand. Bright reds and greens that always stood out in the night and made it oh-so-easy to spot. A mask that covered only the eyes and the sculpted cheeks bones of the boy hiding beneath. It was Robin that was sleeping in the chair beside your bed, maskless and vulnerable to someone he didn't even know.

"You're awake," he spoke without opening his eyes. Sleep was heavy in his voice. The usual pep that he had was replaced with a hoarseness that had you taken aback for a split moment. Bright blue eyes met yours. You always wondered what color they'd be, but you never expected them to be so vibrant - so full of life.

"How could you have possibly woken up from that, I haven't even moved," You tried to joke. A pain rippled through your whole body. Bruises dark in color splattered against you and a tight wrap was around your ribs where surely half of them were broken or cracked. You could feel the swell in your lips, the metallic taste of blood that lingered in your mouth even hours after you were defeated. Without needing to see yourself, you knew that you were looking rough.

"You were making noises in your sleep, they stopped when you woke up," Robin informed you. Whimpers and whines from the pain that ached throughout you echoed through the cave for hours. He knew of getting his ass handed to him, and he knew just how you felt that moment. "How are you feeling?"

Tim felt guilty. He tried his best to watch over you in the ferocious Gotham life, but sometimes he hadn't made it in time. You were lucky to be alive, and if that wasn't the case he wouldn't be able to live with himself, not when he was on some stupid team-building exercise in San Francisco.

There were tons of descriptions that you could have used to describe how you were feeling. Enraged. Embarrassed. Vengeful. "Sore," you settled with. Tim nodded, by the hesitance you had he wasn't sure if that was going to be your final answer. You rubbed a hand down your face, mixed feelings running through more than ever.

The familiar feeling of bare skin met your path. No mask, no covering your identity. No surprise that Batman did so. You paused a moment before sticking that same hand out for Robin to shake. "I presume you already knew long ago, but (Y/N) (L/N)."

Tim accepted your hand, surprised at the sudden grip that you had on him in your weakened state. "Tim Drake, I assume you already put together that I'm Robin," he mocked your words. "It's nice to officially meet you, (Y/N)."

Months of trying to convince you that joining the Teen Titans was the best thing that could happen to you. Not only would you get the additional training you needed, but you would have the resources and a team. You'd get friends - and most importantly you'd get to be near Tim more often.

As annoying as his pestering was to get you to join him, it was far more adorable. He'd get this little pout on his face, bottom lip sticking out that made you just want to kiss him. You knew the reason - or thought you knew - why he wanted you to join. He was scared for you. That night in the alley when he wasn't even home terrified him.

He was going to make sure that it never happened again. Tim would be there to protect you, and if he couldn't then his friends sure as hell would. Months of bribing, swaying, hangouts, and patrol, Tim finally convinced you to join him. The time you spent together had brought you closer together as friends.

It also brought unwanted feelings that kept you up at night. The little amount of sleep that you usually got dwindled as your thoughts and dreams became consumed by Tim Drake. He was more than a friend, a partner, a teammate - he was someone that you could love for the rest of your life. Yet, he had no idea.

Joining his little band of heroes didn't help either. You spent far more time with him. Training, missions, just hanging out in the lounge of the infamous Titans Tower. He became your every living moment - along with his friends. They weren't all easy to get along with. Beast Boy, Starfire, Cyborg, they all acted like they controlled your each and every move.

Conner Kent, Superboy, as nice as he was whenever he spent time with Tim you couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Bart took a while to get used to - just as Tim had told you it would. He was nice to you, but his literal sense of being all over the place drove you nuts. Cassie? Well, she was the one that got on your nerves the most.

Whenever Cassie and Tim were in the same room together, she hung off him like a leech. No matter what was going on she was right at his side. She made it impossible to hang out with him and you had no idea why she was so possessive of him. It seemed impossible to enjoy her presence. 

It was also impossible to hate her too. Whenever the two of you worked alone, she was always so incredibly kind to you. She would help you when you messed up or offered words of advice from her own mistakes. Cassie wasn't afraid to admit to you that she's messed up far more than you had. It was confusing why she changed so much around Tim.

It was annoying to see his stupid little smiles every time you were visibly frustrated with them together. It was even worse when their hugs lasted a little longer than they needed to be. Your jealousy of Cassie was getting out of hand, and that would only mean that bad decisions would be made.

><

You stood with your fist raised, ready to knock on the door in front of you. Maybe this choice was petty, maybe you were more scared to admit your own feelings than you were fighting monsters. Truth was, you just wanted to see Tim react the same way that you did when he was around Cassie. What better way than to use one of his own friends to do it?

Kon was too loyal to Tim to keep a secret. Victor and Gar wouldn't agree to it in the slightest - them being the 'responsible leaders' that they were. That left Bart Allen. Speedster. Kid Flash. As kind as he was, you didn't know him well enough to know if he would even agree to this ridiculous plan of yours.

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it even was. Why waste time trying to make Tim jealous when he probably didn't even think about how Cassie acted around him? Why not just tell him outright that after over a year of working together, you had caught major feelings for him?

Before you could change your mind about this whole thing, Bart's door opened. He looked ready to run out to do god knows what but stopped, confused, when he saw you standing there. "(Y/N), hey, uh," Bart scratched the back of his head. You never stopped by to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I talk to you?" Your gaze turned to the end of the hall when hearing footsteps. Black and yellow cape, green shirt, of course, Tim remained in uniform even in his downtime. He met your eyes for a moment, a smile making it's way to his face before realizing that you were talking to Bart. His gaze turned to a glare when seeing how little of a space was between you and Bart.

Seeing his small change in facial expression had just confirmed that you liked seeing him jealous - if that's even what his emotion was. You smiled his way before grabbing Bart's hand and leading him back into his room. The door slammed shut before Tim could even reach it.

"What-" Bart tried to ask.

"I need you to do me a favour," Bart's room was a mess. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, unmade bed, food wrappers, and pizza boxes covering every inch of furniture. The difference between him and Tim was astounding just by looking at their living spaces. "I need you to help me make Tim jealous."

><

Surprisingly, Bart was quick to agree with your little plan. He too noticed that since your arrival to the tower, Tim and Cassie were closer than ever. If he was to notice, then surely there had to be something going on, right? Either way, it just fueled your desire to make him jealous even more.

They were small actions at first. You'd make sure that Bart would enter your room just as Tim was walking by, only to leave again moments later when he was gone. Always being quick to pair up with you for everything, only for Tim to argue that his pairing with you made more sense. Lingering hugs, watching movies together, sharing food.

Tim was quickly annoyed with Bart's presence whenever you were with him. However, he didn't bring it up. His glares, huffs of annoyance, and cold behaviour were all obvious though he never asked about your sudden interest in his best friend.

Kon, the only one that wasn't involved, but invested, quickly picked up on what happened. Tim got Cassie to be touchy the first day that you arrived. You asked Bart to do just the same. It was obvious what was going on to everyone besides you and Tim.

As funny as it was to watch, he was also getting annoyed at the lack of communication between you. According to Tim, you and him were best friends before you decided to join the team. Now, it seemed that you had never been farther apart because of your ruses.

"You and Bart got close since you've arrived," Tim was leaning against the door of your room. It had been days since the two of you had talked alone and you missed him. Keeping this fake-touchy relationship with Bart was exhausting. It didn't even seem to be worth it - until this moment.

"Yeah, he's a good guy," You peaked above the book you held in your hand. Tim invited himself into your room and sprawled across the bottom of your bed. He didn't want to hear about your relationship with Bart, but the words slipped his mouth before he could think of anything else. It drove him nuts seeing the two of you together. "Made this place feel like a home."

He didn't, at all. Truth was, you wished that you were back in Gotham, back where you didn't know you had to share Tim with anyone besides Batman. Now, with all his friends, you felt like you never got to see him at all. As much as you learned, and as thankful as you were for everything that you learned, you missed what your friendship used to be with Tim.

"You never told me you and Cassie were so close," You hesitantly spoke as a silence washed over you. Tim remainder stotic. He and Cassie were great friends, but they were never as physically close as they were now. She had been reluctant to agree to his pleas of acting closer than they really were to make you jealous. His efforts seemed all for null with your new fondness of the speedster.

If Tim were Bruce, he'd probably be able to pick up on the jealousy in your voice. Right now, he was too caught up in your own thinking about the hours that Bart spent in your room, laughing so loud that he could hear it from his room. He loathed the idea of you and Bart together.

"Yeah." Yeah. That's all he had to say? All their time together, nothing more than a single word to talk about the woman he clearly cared deeply about.

Another silence. A painful, heart aching silence that never used to happen before you joined this stupid team. It seemed that arriving had pushed you and Robin farther apart than ever before. You hated these moments, hated it felt like you knew nothing about one another, like you hadn't nearly died together half a dozen times.

It seemed that your silence in the middle of a mission was louder than these moments.

"Tim?" You asked. He was staring up at your ceiling and you couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going on in his head. No matter how close you were, or thought you were, he would always remain a mystery.

"Yeah," he repeated.

What if I moved back to Gotham? What if I asked you to stay there with me? What if I told you everything with Bart was a lie? What if I told you my feelings for you were undeniable? What if the reason I want to hate Cassie is because of you? What if...

"Nevermind." There was no point in dwelling in what if's.

><

Kori always promoted training with teammates. It was a great way to hone in on your skills, and develop a further relationship among your team. Kon was back in Smallville, Beast Boy and Cyborg were off working for their previous leader Nightwing. That left just the four of you - two of which you could barely look at.

You were infuriated with Tim. The entire week he had been brushing you off, ignoring your messages, it was like he was avoiding you completely. To make matters worse, Cassie had been glued to his side the entire time. They didn't part ways for anything it seemed.

Now, you and Bart were fighting against Tim and Cassie. Though the speedster and Amazonian had no issues with each other, it was clear that they knew to stay out of yours and Tim's way during the spar. It seemed that just as you were frustrated with Tim, he was with you.

The clashing of staffs was almost as loud as Bart's cackling as he ran around the training room. Tim didn't hold back, not at all. He wasn't surprised to see you do the same, however, he was shocked to see how much you had improved since your time in Gotham. As good as you were, you could rarely hold your own against him.

You didn't need to see beneath his mask to know that he was angry. It was only a matter of who it was directed at. Bruce, maybe. Dick. Kon. You could only dream that it was Cassie but you knew damn better than that. Likely, you were the one to have done something wrong - which was probably why he was ignoring you.

"If you've got something to say, Robin, you should say it," You gritted out as you narrowly missed the staff swinging your way. It was beyond frustrating fighting with him. Tim was impossible to get a hit laid on him, and he was constantly on the defensive with you - as if he didn't want to hit you or something similar.

"Do you really think now is the best time for conversation?" Tim flipped to miss your swing. As he landed, he knocked your weapon away in a single move, leaving you defenseless against him. The fight, as if it wasn't already, became completely unfair in his advantage. Conversation was the only thing that was going to get your the upper hand.

"Well you refuse to talk to me any other time."

His strikes became harder, faster. You needed to get his staff away from just as he did to you before he landed a hit. Tim cried out as your heel slammed against his hand. The force of it knocked the staff out of his hand and it rolled away in the opposite direction of your own.

Tim nursed his throbbing hand for a moment before raising his fists. "Didn't think you'd notice with how much time you're spending with Bart." He jabbed at you, hitting your forearm instead of his intended target of your face. You could see the two other heroes fighting from the corner of your eye - both of them getting just as frustrated but for completely different reasons.

"You're the one that invited me to this team, Drake," your foot jutted towards his chest. It barely impacted him - even though he was quick, he wasn't quick enough. "It's like the moment we left Gotham you were ready to drop me."

"Is that seriously what you think?" Tim was barely able to dodge your oncoming throws. Punch after punch you had still missed them all. He managed to grab your fist. "You obviously don't realize-"

"You wouldn't know obvious if it punched you in the face!" You exclaimed as you wound your free arm back. Tim was so taken aback that he didn't have time to prepare for the hit. Your knuckles collided with his cheekbone and the force of it had knocked him flat on his ass. A loud thud echoed through the room - enough for Cassie and Bart to stop in their tracks.

Tim's cheek was red from where you had hit him.  He didn't look angry with you - it was a spar after all. He looked disappointed, more at himself than you. Was there more to this whole situation than he had originally thought there to be.

Robin, world's second greatest detective - he should have been able to see right through everything. Just as he had asked Cassie to be affectionate when you were around - maybe you just done exactly the same thing with Bart. What kind of mess had he gotten himself into?

You stood above him, hands still in fists. In that moment you made up your mind. Staying in this damn tower was draining you and you couldn’t take it any longer. 

"I'm going back to Gotham."

><

"You were right."

Tim caught you packing your bags for your return back to Gotham. To no surprise, he managed to sneak in without you even knowing. You were frozen, hand in your bag after shoving in a handful of clothing at the sound of his voice.

"I don't hear you say that very often," you snarked. He leaned on the edge of your desk, arms crossed over his chest and mask peeled off. He never wore it anymore when the two of you were alone. He trusted you too much not to. Then again, maybe you were just the only one that knew the real him under that mask.

"That's because you rarely are," he chuckled. Now wasn’t the time for his joke. "I'm sorry, for everything. Apparently, I wasn't able to see the truth until it hit me in the face - literally. Bart told me what happened, what you asked him to do. I... I-"

"Asked Cassie to do the same," you cut him off. Tim's mouth parted with shock. How could you have figured it out? Defeated, you sat on the edge of your bed. You felt like a fool for going through with such an elaborate plot to gain his affections. "She just left my room. Don't know whether I'm surprised or disappointed in both of us.

"Great minds think alike, huh?" Tim shook his head. Only a fool would have gone through such a process - and a fool he was. "What were we thinking? You're my best friend (Y/N), I know I can trust you with everything, and yet- and yet I was scared of what you would say."

"We really played ourselves, huh?" You chuckled. Tim pushed himself off your desk to take the seat next to you. He grabbed your hand, pulling it into his own lap and intertwining your fingers. His warmth crawled up your arm and spread across your entire body. 

What were you thinking with this stupid plan? More importantly, how did neither of you figure out the truth sooner? Tim felt just as much of an idiot as you did. 

He smiled at the sight of your hand in his. He was so caught up in trying to get silly reactions out of you that he forgot the reasoning behind it all. Tim adored you, he wanted you to be his and he should have just told you outright instead of being the scared little boy he once was. 

"Come back to Gotham with me? Please?" You asked suddenly. The two of you needed a break away from the team, you needed time to figure out what these past few months were really for. Mostly, you wanted Tim all to yourself, even for just a little while. 

"There's a great burger place that I found with Dick one night on Patrol. Ate so many that I could barely move the rest of the night," Tim smiled at the memory. "Go with me? On a date?"

Tim's eyes shone with hope for your answer. After going through this entire mess, he only assumed you would be willing to go on a date with him. You leaned towards him, lips barely brushing against his but aching with anticipation for more. He pressed himself into you, lips molding to yours like he was made for you.

"If it wasn't obvious, I'd love to."

@pricetagofficial @mora-miserium  @babymango-writes  @redrobin-yumm  @simp-is-what-i-am  @catsofsmoke  @subtleappreciation  @officiallydarkgeek @spiitfiires  @pinkdiamond1016  @childish-kiwi  @givetimdrakeacoffee  @gunnedrobin   @local-fandom-trashcan  @bikoncon  @foenixphire

[dragonthewriter]

Six Months Later

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34321180

Six Months. That’s how long it had been. Of course, that wasn’t how long it was supposed to take, Beast Boy had original said he was going to be gone “A month, month and a half at most. Just need to get in tune with my animal nature.” As puberty began to hit him, and rather late, he was starting to show signs of his animal sides taking more control, and even he had to admit it was making him a liability. So he headed off, taking his part of the T-ship. 

Raven had kept in contact with him. All the Titans did, but Raven was the only one who did everyday. A trend noticed by everyone excluding the empath herself. Their nighttime chats had often run so long, Raven would wake up to her communicator still out and still on. The first few times, Raven would apologize the next time they spoke, only for Beast Boy to tell it was fine. He wasn’t about to tell her how cute it was to hear her yawn and snore softly.

He started by heading to Africa, where he was raised. He had stayed with the tribe his parents had befriended, and who had taken him after his parents died and before the Doom Patrol showed up. He would tell her stories of going on hunts with the other men in the tribe. Even with his vegan sensibilities, he understood it was their way of life, and could respect that they took great care in only hunting for what they needed. It was around this time, she noticed his voice cracking a bit.

After two weeks there, he moved on, traveling to every biome on the planet he could reach. The arctic, deep in the amazon rainforest, the arid desert. He would regale Raven with what forms he learned, what unique things he gleaned from his time in their shapes. As it felt he had crossed off every location on his list, he told he was planning on coming home. “Just a week with the Doom Patrol, and I’ll be back in Jump City.”

But things kept coming up. At the six week mark, Mento fell sick, and he wanted to be there until his adoptive father felt better. The disease took longer to overcome than expected, and in that time, the Brotherhood had made a move in France. With Mento still down, Beast Boy joined the Patrol in their mission. Most of their time was just playing recon, Beast Boy and Negative Man doing the work of trying to track down their enemy. 

When he wasn’t flying over the city, he was keeping in touch, talking when he could, texting when he couldn’t. After two weeks, Raven awoke to one last message. “Found Base, Going dark. I’ll message you.” The three days before she heard anything felt like the longest in her life.

Then she got his call. At first, she didn’t recognize his voice, puberty definitely coming hard for the changeling. His voice has already gotten past the random breaking and was deeper. She heard him tell about how the Brotherhood were all back in prison but she wasn’t listening, focusing less on what he was saying and how he was saying it. His regular scrawny form did not match the voice he now spoke with. 

A week after returning from France, Mento was given the all clear, and Beast Boy was sent to return home… Until the Titans East had a problem and needed back up. Since Midway City was closer to Steel City, Beast Boy made the journey. 

A group of rather B-list villains had made trouble for the East team, and an extra Titan was enough to begin balancing the scales in their favor. Raven and Beast Boy’s nightly chats remained, now the empath hearing how he had stopped Johnny Rancid by himself, and other exploits she had to wonder how much he was embellishing. 

A message she did get from Bumblebee gave Raven pause. ‘Are you dating Beast Boy?’ followed by ‘Does he have a girlfriend or is he fair game?’ Raven ended up assuming Bumblebee just wanted a rebound after her and Cyborg broke up due to distance, and her only other choices were a civilian, which always had problems, one of the twins, who were way too young, and Speedy and Aqualad, who were comfortably in a relationship with each other. 

Raven did begin to suspect something though, when Kitten used her one phone call after Titans East arrested her to ask Raven if ‘it was open season on the green guy, or do I have to fight another one of you titans for the privilege?’

Once all villains were in prison, and Titans East released Beast Boy from their service, he was finally on his way home.

Until a storm hit his ship and he crashed just outside of Gotham. A quick phone call to his mentor, and Robin secured a place for Beast Boy to crash at Wayne manor, and the use of the Batcave to repair the T ship. Of course with the watchful eyes of Alfred using schematics from Cyborg to make sure he did everything properly. 

Just a day shy of the six month mark, his ship was airborne and headed back to Jump. Raven decided to use the couple of hours of flight time to mediate before their reunion, figuring six months apart had lower her defenses to Beast Boy’s abrasive personality. On the phone was one thing, but in person was a whole different thing. 

On her way, Robin stopped her, and said Alfred wanted to forward a message to her. “Tell Miss Raven that Master Garfield was quite eager to discuss her at length, and is quite fond of her. Also, if she enjoys tea as much as he says she does, I would love to have her try my own, as it would be nice to have a hero who actually appreciates it come by for a cup or two at some point.” Being the two more emotional stunted titans, neither truly grasped the message, focusing more on the tea portion.

—————————————

“Really,” Cyborg asked. “No more vegan?”

“No, i’m still preferring to stick to that diet, but there were times I didn’t have the luxury. When in rome and all that.”

“So you don’t want to join us at the next Bbq and…

“Friend Raven!”

Raven barely noticed Starfire call out her name. She had entered the common room to greet Beast Boy, but stopped when she saw him in-between Cyborg and Starfire. Half a year ago, he barely came up to Cybrog’s waist, but now he was just about as tall as Starfire. His body was much more filled out, as well. While he wouldn’t been at Superman level of muscle, he was far past the almost stick figure he had been when leaving. 

And then there was the hair…

It was long, coming down past his jawline on the side of his face, the rest gathered into a ponytail behind his head. With the way his head had been turned, she couldn’t see his face, but when Starfire called out her name, he turned to her.

His eyes sparkled when he saw her. There were still that familiar shade of green, but something in them shined, and Raven noticed his pupils were more cat like. 

Even his face was different. Baby fat cheeks had become chiseled features, and his snaggletooth fang had found a home inside his mouth. But when he smiled at the sight of her, she could see the fangs were only sharper and longer.

And framing either side of his face was that hair. Raven was already back on it, unable to get past seeing it like that. 

“Come over, and say hi to the new Beast Boy,” Cyborg said, patting him on the back. Raven floated over to them, as Cyborg continued. “Notice anything different?”

Raven was never one for being at a loss for words. Even when she answered with silence, it was always clear to the listener, that it was planned. Yet here she was, unable to speak for a moment. 

“You hair,” she muttered out, making Beast Boy blush.

“Wow, I’m like a foot and 3/4 taller and you notice my hair first?” He brought a hand up to his head. “Yeah I never had a chance to get it cut, but first thing in the morning…”

“Don’t!” Raven said too quickly for even her own obliviousness to overcome. Everyone was now staring at her, Beast Boy’s transformation forgotten for her reaction to it. “I mean, you shouldn’t. It looks nice like that.”

It seemed to make Beast Boy relax, but Cyborg and Starfire just gave her a look.

“Well, if you think it looks good, I’ll keep it,” he said, giving her another warm smile that made Raven feel a bit weak in the knees. She could hear the words relay to her by the Batman’s butler. ‘Quite fond of her.’ Raven saw his eyes sparkle once more. 

‘Oh.’

‘OH.’

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Soulmarks, Part 2

First part

~~~

She sighed and rested her hands on her hips, her fingers carefully detaching her yoyo.

They were giving her orders, she could tell from their tone, but she couldn’t understand a word he was saying. She barely spoke English outside of a few vague lessons she’d had when she was a kid, and they were talking too fast for her to catch a single word.

“You know, I’d love to do that, but I don’t speak English.”

The person paused at this, and then they switched to fluent French: “Oh, sorry. Turn around slowly and don’t make any sudden moves.”

She slowly turned around, resting her hands behind her back. His gun lowered slightly to point at her legs and she let herself relax a little bit. A shot would be absolutely terrible, but at least he wasn’t actively trying to kill her.

She flashed Nightwing a bright smile. “Why, hello, sir!”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“I’m Ladybug...” They didn’t know who she was, so she didn’t have to hide her yoyo. She pulled it out from behind her back and started doing tricks with it to let out some of her nervous energy. “And, well, I’m here because I think my soulmate is in trouble. Apparently you, Batman, and Batgirl all know them.”

Nightwing’s eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs. “Uh… can you prove that?”

“See, the problem with that is most of my soulmarks have disappeared for them. All of them, actually.”

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I’ll explain it to you…”

“Oh! No, they’re not dead! I thought they were, but then a new soulmark appeared and it’s… weird? Weirder than their normal ones, at least...”

She trailed off. Her eyes narrowed slightly. He’d certainly phrased the ‘I’ll explain it to you’ thing oddly, it was almost as if there was someone else there that she didn’t know about.

Her eyes searched the area for a sign of movement as she continued: “I don’t know if you can make sense of it. It’s a gun, but it’s one of those fake ones with the little flags that say ‘BANG’ you see in cartoons…”

Her eyes spotted a flickering in the shadows and she cringed mentally. Damn, she hated it when she was right. Whoever they were, she couldn’t see a glint of metal. So it was probably safe to assume they didn’t have a weapon out --.

“Where was it?”

She pulled her attention back to Nightwing. “Over my heart. Do you know what it means?”

He obviously knew, but he seemed hesitant to say anything. This really didn’t help her anxiety about the situation. He’d been prepared to tell her that her soulmate was dead, so just how bad could this be?

He opened his mouth to tell her, but he was cut off as a gun went off a few blocks away.

Listen, she wasn’t proud of it. But she was anxious... and it was at least two-on-one... and he’d had a gun pointed at her. She latched her yoyo around his wrist.

His eyes found their way to the polka-dotted yoyo and shock flickered across his face. “You’re-- oh sh --!”

She threw him to the next building without thinking and brought her hands up to her mouth as he crashed into a wall. Oops. He was a human.

She wheeled around to find Batgirl and held up her hands with a weak smile. What was the English word? “Sor-ree,” she said. She pointed the woman in the direction of the gunshot. “Can you? I’ll fix ‘im.”

Batgirl was apparently stunned enough by what Marinette had said that she complied.

She quickly hopped over to where Nightwing was and cringed as she summoned her lucky charm. The first thing she thought of popped into her hand: a computer mouse. “Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry,” she mumbled.

He could only groan in response.

“Miraculous Ladybug,” she said.

He was enveloped in ladybugs and, when they cleared, he was patting himself with a shocked expression. “What the-- how did-- why--?”

“I really didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear. Are you alright?”

“I’m… fine, apparently,” he assured her. He slowly pushed himself to his feet and gave her a weak smile. “Well… that was certainly one way to meet the inlaws.”

“HUH?”

~

She let them escort her, blindfolded, to the batcave.

Did she think it was stupid and unnecessary? Yes, she was already lost enough without the whole blindfold thing. Did she care? No, if this is what it would take to figure out if her soulmate was okay she would do it.

The blindfold was whipped off her face and a gasp left her lips.

“Oh, I need to get me one of these.”

Nightwing laughed and Marinette felt her face warm. She’d meant to be quieter.

She was allowed to wander around while Nightwing explained the situation to Batman and Batgirl. She tried not to laugh at all the names on plaques starting with ‘Bat’. She wondered if Nightwing was actually called BatNightwing.

“Ladybug!” Called possibly-BatNightwing.

She smiled awkwardly as she walked over. She perched herself on a railing.

Batman handed her a tiny device and she raised her eyebrows.

“It’ll translate everything so we can all speak in our native languages,” he explained calmly.

She nodded and placed it in her ear and pressed on. Lights flickered in front of her eyes and she stared at the interface in front of her with a stunned expression.

She reached up and selected her language and then waved for them to go ahead.

“Your soulmate is Tim Drake. He went missing on patrols about three weeks ago,” explained Batman.

Her eyes widened at the text in front of her and she pulled out her yoyo again. Her soulmate was a vigilante? You’d think she know about it from her soulmarks...

“What was his hero name?”

Nightwing shook his head. “Vigilante, not hero. And Robin.”

She hit herself in the face with her yoyo. Ah, so he wasn’t an avid birdwatcher, he was a bird-themed vigilante. She supposed that did make sense, considering her chosen career path.

Batgirl crossed her arms over her chest. “And you swear it’s a gag gun?”

“Do I have a reason to lie?”

Batgirl shrugged a little bit.

Batman seemed to think for a minute before sighing. “She’s a child, we can’t tell her this.”

“A child who launched that guy --” she jabbed a finger towards Nightwing “-- across some rooftops.” She smiled brightly. “So, how about we start talking, please?”

Batman sighed again. “No need for threats. We think he’s been captured by Joker.”

“And Joker is…?”

“A Rogue -- or I guess you would know of him as a criminal or villain. He’s pretty big here,” explained Batgirl.

She nodded slowly. That explained the deck of cards that had been on her back since she was a child. She started messing with her yoyo again.

“So, he was captured by Joker and…?”

Everyone looked at the oldest to explain, and Batman shook his head slightly. “He’s seemed to have lost his identity, if everything has disappeared.”

She thought about this for a minute and her face paled. What could Joker have done to him for him to lose his identity? She found herself hoping he’d just gotten hit too hard on the head once and lost his memory. That was the best case scenario.

Somehow, she doubted it.

“Right, so how do we save him?”

~

The Batmobile was… cramped.

The thing was huge, but there was very little actual room to sit for anyone besides Batman. Nightwing joked that it was almost as if he didn’t want anyone else in there.

In the end, Marinette got to sit in the passenger’s seat while Nightwing and Batgirl cursed their father out from the roof of the car. Sure, they were going slower than usual so no one would fall off and die, but it couldn’t be fun. She messed with her summoned yoyo (yes, she summoned a yoyo with her yoyo, what of it?) as she listened in to make sure they didn’t fall.

All too soon and yet far too late, they stopped at the gates to Arkham Asylum. She and Batman climbed out and helped the others down.

They all hopped the fence and Marinette sent a cheeky grin as she slipped through the bars.

Nightwing sighed. “I wish I was that tiny again.”

She gave a quiet laugh.

Everyone’s slight smiles dropped off their faces as they entered the asylum.

A shiver ran through her at the singing that floated through the mostly abandoned building. Everyone exchanged glances and then Nightwing and Batgirl split off.

She and Batman made their way through the halls, following the sound. She fought the temptation to curl in on herself or run away.

Batman sent her a look, a ‘stay back’, and then burst through the door.

Marinette slowly inched around the door as well, looking for cover. The place looked like Picasso had tried to make a house. There were walls where there shouldn’t be and an extra floor that just jutted out from the wall. Typical household items were placed around at random. It felt warped and… wrong.

The woman cut herself off and set a vase of flowers on the table. She turned around and looked up at the chair. “Puddin’, company!”

Marinette took the chance to dive under the table.

Her eyes landed on a… was that a bazooka? She’d never seen one in person before, and being so close to it made her anxious. She scooted as far away from it as she could. Her fingers pulled up the tablecloth slightly and she ducked down to see what was going on.

The man in the chair turned around to look and then smiled. “Hello there,” he said, stepping down. “Welcome to our happy abode!”

Joker and the woman embraced each other.

Batman didn’t humor them. “Where’s Robin?”

The couple looked at each other with mock confusion. “Robin? There’s no Robin here!”

“Maybe he means our little J!”

“Of course!” Joker snapped his fingers. “That’s it!”

They both looked at a blue curtain and Batman scowled as he strode towards it.

The woman giggled and reached under the table, her hand poking Marinette’s face. She made a quiet sound in the back of her throat and continued on, grabbing the bazooka. “Uh-uh! No peeking!”

Marinette’s eyes widened in horror as she pointed it at Batman but, before she could react, she pulled the trigger.

Ribbon wrapped around him.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Mommy’s little helper!” Said the woman brightly.

Joker pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You know, bats, we’ve been doing this little runaround of ours for years. It’s been loads of laughs, but the sad fact is…” He stepped towards the curtain. “None of us are getting any younger.”

“That old clock’s a-tickin!”

“Quite right, poo. And Harley and I were thinking it was time to start a family. Add a Joker Jr. to our merry brood.”

“But rather than go through all the joy of childbirth, we decided to adopt.”

“We couldn’t do it legally, but then we remembered you always had a few spare kids hanging around!”

Harley beamed and suddenly grabbed one of Marinette’s pigtails. A curse slipped from her lips as she was pulled out from under the table. “Whoops! There’s another one!”

“A surplus, really!” Joker grinned more widely than ever. “So we borrowed one.”

He pulled back the curtain with a dramatic flourish to reveal… an operating table?

She looked at the person on the table and felt bile rise in her throat. Their skin was blotchy white and paper-like from bleach treatments. Their eyes were unblinking and nearly pupil-less. The smile on their face was so wide that it had to have been stretched somehow.

“He needed a little molding, of course. What kid doesn’t? But, in time, we came to love him as our own. Say hello, J.J.”

The person started to laugh. The kind of laugh someone makes when they’re trying their hardest not to cry. They hopped down and laughed harder, their arms clutching their stomach as a few stray tears slid down his face.

~~~

Next part

Every time I think I know how long a fic is going to be I’m wrong help --

Taglist

@pawsitivelymiraculous @golden-promises @salty-fang @kitsunebell @sassakitty @octobitch @glastwime859 @miyla-lokidottir @onlyabatfan @ira-sairain @2confused-2doanything @ultimatetornshipper

[fanficsandfluff]

Acting on the Truth

Fandom: DCEU, Zack Snyder’s Justice League

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Arthur Curry, Diana Prince, Barry Allen, Clark Kent, Victor Stone

Words: 2,046

It wasn’t fair and everyone in the room knew it wasn’t. Most especially Bruce, since he was the one on the receiving end of the group’s taunts. 

“Guys,” Bruce’s own voice sounded a little too high for his liking, so he cleared his throat and resumed in a near Batman-esque growl, “Can you all just knock it off?”

“Big guy in a carbon-fiber suit. Take that away and what are you?” Arthur shot back with a horrible gleam in his eyes.

“Ticklish,” Barry mumbled in glee beside him. 

Diana smiled wide but then tried to tamp it down a bit when she saw Bruce glance her way. We don’t want to embarrass him too bad, of course. Keep it civil. 

“I still...” Bruce paused and took a breath as opposed to stuttering through his sentence, “I still don’t see why you’re all so gung-ho about this. Everyone is ticklish.”

Arthur actually chuckled this time, throwing his body into the deep noises for emphasis, “Because you’re the freaking bat, big guy! It’s so... perfect.”

“We should just get him already,” Victor chimed in finally after standing in silence, observing the scene. 

Bruce was in the center of the room, leaning against his desk. He was surrounded on all sides by superheroes, and he was far outmatched in the superpower department. He remained silent as he stood up straight and headed for the door. He made it through, only to be stopped by Clark on the other side. 

All morning. All morning they were pestering him and making comments and giggling amongst themselves all because they saw Diana accidentally tickle his neck when they were working. And he reacted. Rookie move. 

Bruce shifted his eyes upward so he wouldn’t have to tilt his whole head to get a look at Clark’s face. No weakness, come on, Bruce.

He suddenly felt a very strange, speedy tickle along both of his sides, but it was over in a flas-- oh, fucking Barry.

Bruce’s arms cinched to his alerted sides and he turned around to see Barry in exactly the same spot he was in before he left the other room. Then he had Clark smirking at him from the other side. 

“Children,” Bruce mumbled to himself in a whisper as he got past Clark, knowing full-well Clark could probably hear him what with super hearing or whatever it was. 

“Alfred,” Bruce’s voice was now louder, “Lock the Batcave. Security breach protocol. No one gets in,” and he nearly made it to the secret door to the cave, too. He would’ve. If Diana hadn’t sidled up to him and caressed his forearm with her nails.

“Bruce,” she spoke softly, “We meant no harm.”

The Bat clenched his jaw but he did look at her. Her touch sent chills up his arm. 

“I know you don’t. It’s humiliating to be tickled, even though I honestly probably wouldn’t mind if you all tickled me--Hey!” Bruce shot his whole body back as if he was shocked. Diana giggled innocently, the Lasso of Truth’s end wrapped around the hand she held Bruce’s arm with. 

Expecting his whole world to come crumbling around him from the sheer embarrassment of what he just spoke aloud for everyone to hear, it was Bruce who was stunned when he finally looked around at the group who had followed him into this new room from the study and observed their faces. What he thought would be followed by deep, mocking laughter, instead were the caring, understanding faces of the people he now cared about. His cheeks were dusted pink, and yes, they could all see it behind his stubble. 

“It--It’s not something...” he shut his eyes and exhaled through his nose, “That wasn’t an invitation.”

And then Clark laughed, and the things that happened next were in a quick blur that maybe spanned 15 seconds. 

When he stopped and really thought about what happened, this is what he came up with: Diana snuck up behind him and gave him a hug, or what he thought was a hug, but she slipped that Lasso around his wrists and cinched them. Then Arthur came forward and hoisted Bruce over his shoulder and unceremoniously dumped him on the couch only a few feet away. Barry blocked any attempts of Bruce trying to get up and run away. Diana used the Lasso and yanked his arms up over his head and Victor locked in on his now raised wrists, grip stronger than iron. And the next thing he knew, everyone was surrounding him, smiling like jerks. 15 seconds. This all happened too fast for him to even stand a chance.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t...” Arthur drawled out as he leaned against the couch, almost straddling Bruce, “... mind if I do,” and with a feral grin, he dug in. 

“Ow! You fuhucking--” Bruce clamped his lips tight. Arthur’s tickling was a little rough. Now Bruce was struggling, using all his meditative might to not break. He did growl a lot though. And curse through his teeth. 

“You’re not doing it right,” Barry admonished after a few seconds of unsuccessful no-laughter. 

“He’s a tough dude, I figured I’d also be tough.”

“Try his hips,” Clark spoke from behind the back of the couch. 

Bruce eyed the Kryptonian, wondering what in the sweet ungodly hell gave it away... the eyes. The glowing eyes of x-ray vision. He could see nerve endings??

Arthur’s thumbs were in his hip joints in an instant and Bruce bucked, unable to really do much in Victor’s steely, unmoving grip. He laughed, oh god he did laugh. It was a loud burst of something that honestly sounded more like a scream than a laugh, but then there was a forced smile on his face that he tried to hide by shoving it into his raised arm. 

“Ahaww,” Barry cooed aloud and blushed when he realized he, indeed, did it aloud. 

“He’s going to kill all of you,” Victor pointed out.

“You’re included in this, aren’t you?” Barry asked, “Or are those not your arms holding him down?”

“Shh, you’re going to miss it,” Diana quieted the bickering men as she kneeled at the side of the couch and she started skittering her nails across Bruce’s sides and belly as Arthur tried not tickling so hard that he might leave bruises if he kept going.

Bruce arched his back and now he was laughing more continuously. He tried to keep it to just huffs of air after that first screamer sound, but now with all their dumbass banter and Diana’s nails, it was a lot. 

His chest rumbly laughter started to ooze out and there wasn’t much of anything more Bruce could do to stop it. He was overpowered, over-weakened, and now over-tickled. 

“Bruce, you may need to think about breathing. You’re turning red,” Clark offered sage advice. Yeah, thanks, dickhead, really helpful right now.

He was red and he knew it was because he was still trying with all his might to hold a little something in. Just a piece. If he could prevent himself from really letting go, he could still say he kept a shred of his dignity. 

Next thing he knew, there were new appendages at his armpits. Well, fuck.

Bruce cackled some more, the metaphorical dam burst all for one log or two. Dignity, man. One piece.

Bruce hadn’t spoken for a while now. After cursing at Arthur, he became so focused on not giving fully in that he didn’t have it in him to verbally fight or protest. 

By now he had six hands on him. Arthur still at his hips (and by now he figured out if he switched between a harsh digging in to then a slightly softer massage motion of his thumbs, it got to Bruce the best), Diana’s mischievous Amazonian nails wreaking havoc across his taught but expansive belly and sides, and now Victor with his extra mini arms that sprout from his back, scratching methodically into the hollows of his armpits. 

And hey, that was honestly pretty superhuman of him. He could take six super-hands wrecking his ticklish body without fully breaking. And that thought that he was still a little powerful was the last straw in the dam of laughter that burst from him. They all knew and recognized that Bruce was strong in his own ways, he didn’t need to shoot lasers from his fingers or punch a guy into the next planet. And Bruce finally got to that thought himself, even though it took some extra time. He was ready to let go. 

Oh, I might mention that it might’ve also been the quick addition of Barry pinching his kneecap that did it, but we’ll agree to disagree.

The whole group wore identical grins when they got Bruce to laugh and succumb to his ticklishness. 

“Can I try?” Barry asked Arthur, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah, g’head, speedy.”

And they switched positions, which gave Bruce a breather as Diana and Victor also stopped. There was the time to suck in oxygen.

Barry looked a little nervous to be doing what he was about to be doing. 

“Well?” Arthur nudged the kid’s back, “You gonna start?”

And just like that, Barry’s fingers were lightning. He took a much different approach than Arthur. While Arthur stayed in exactly the same spot and kept at it with forceful motions, Barry’s hands were everywhere. And he wasn’t even using his super speed because you could follow where his hands were going. 

Bruce’s laugh came out very surprised and slightly higher in pitch than the laughs he previously gifted them with. 

“Oho shit!” Bruce finally cursed again, as well. Why did it tickle so much? 

“I can’t believe I’m tickling Batman,” Barry quipped. He got some chuckles from the team.

There was a moment where Barry and Diana gasped simultaneously, and Arthur barked out his own laugh. Barry had zoned in on Bruce’s stomach and whatever happened and why, Bruce snorted as he took in air to make room for more laughter. Even Clark giggled when he knew he heard what he heard, raising a fist to his mouth so as to not embarrass Bruce further.

“Shuhut--Shut up! Ahall of you, fucking shut uhuhup,” Bruce was regaining some of that dignity we mentioned earlier. 

“We aren’t laughing at you,” Diana reassured. 

“That was honestly cute, Bruce,” Victor agreed. 

“Do it again,” Arthur spoke into Barry’s ear but it was not at all meant to be a whisper. Now Barry was on the hunt for more snorts. He did find one more in his search, but that’s all Bruce would allow him. 

And then the fingers stopped and Victor’s grip loosened. Bruce’s arms came crashing down and he started to hunch and curl in on himself. 

They waited until his residual breaths slowed to near normal. Diana reached her hand out towards Bruce’s face and the poor guy flinched away. 

Diana’s airy laughter floated out for a moment, “I wasn’t going to tickle,” she tried again and brushed hair that had fallen askew during the attack out of Bruce’s eyes and off his forehead. 

“You’re pr--”

“Fuck off.”

And then the team laughed. All of them. Bruce’s harsh cut-off of whatever Clark had to say even made him smile. 

That lasso may have had something to it... well, besides godly power. It was the Lasso of Truth after all, wasn’t it? Yeah, for all his show and bravado, this was all Bruce wanted. And he couldn’t have dreamed of it happening under better circumstances. 

With grumblings and mutterings of ‘I’m too old for this shit’ and the like, Bruce groaned his way into a sitting and then a standing position. They all had some real work to do, so they might as well get to it. Diana kissed him on the cheek for being a good sport, and Clark even clapped him on the shoulder. Barry couldn’t get a big dumb smile off his face, hard as he tried, and despite the others mentioning it to him multiple times. Arthur wiggled his fingers in the air at Bruce once and Bruce glared daggers at him. Victor was even smirking from time to time thinking about one of their big guns being ticklish like that. 

One big, happy family. 

[all-the-names-are-taken-aaaaa]

Miraculous Ladybug Soulmate AU

Marionette had lots of platonic soulmarks. None of them had developed into a romantic soulmark and none had darkened into a broken soulmark before that day. Lila never left a mark on her like the rest of her classmates. They thought she was jealous. They thought she had done all these things because of Lila. Did they even notice Lila didn't have any of their marks. Lila did not care for any of them.

One by one her the marks left by her classmates changed. Most because of confrontations with them demanding she apologized while also belittling her others when they destroyed her extra notebook thinking it was her sketch book. She took the pain without so much as flinching until everyone of the marks were black. However good did come during this time. Chloe apologized and left her soulmark on Marinette. Marinette did not notice at first because as soon as Chloe saw it she busted out crying. After calming down Chloe stayed by Marinette side even telling Adrian off about the stupidity of the high road not that he listened. Kagami also left a mark during this time.

However one day Chat Noir's mark faded out completely. That day ladybug appeared in the batcave completely drained with plag by her side hissing at anyone who came near the unconscious girl. Alfred managed to convince the tiny god to let him give her first aid once she detransformed. "If anyone does anything I don't approve of it will be Atlantis all again understand. For the love of god get Diana." Damian was able to find video of the fight between Ladybug and Chat Noir resulting in her taking the ring. Tim and Dick got called Diana and the rest of the family to get there as quickly as possible. When Diana got there three tinny gods swarmed up all talking franticly, panicky. "Ladybug" Diana kneeling beside the girl. "Her marks..." She said rage in her voice and tears falling from her eyes "how is she alive?" Alfred asks suddenly " before I lost Duusu. He told me about the others. A ladybug holder must be loved and give love... So many marks turned black. . ."

Kaalki is the one to answer " She has a mark from each of the kawamis. She is the Guardian because of some unforntionate events"

Diana had to leave the room for a while too calm down. Marinette woke up too Tim and Jason in full suits fighting over something. She did not care what it was she found the new chat. A chat that wouldn't hurt her. Befor anyone can process what is going on Redhood is holdin the girl and assuring her he's going to help. Plag comes zooming in to assess his new chosen.

In a single night Diana and Jason find a place to stay in Paris. Marinette explains it's best she doesn't know his identity in case she gets akumatized. Bruce/Batman convinces Marinette to see the family's psychiatrist so she can heal.

So for a year after her 18th birthday everything starts to get better she thinks. School is still hell but it is easier to be ladybug and her home life is good... Until her parents start giving her disappointed looks. She leaves home not long after finding out what her parents were told. She was slowly beginning to realize she had to put herself first.

She winds up sharing an apartment with a dude named Jason Todd. He leaves the most beautiful mark she's ever seen. She is so threalled by the mark she wishes she could display it but it's surrounded by the black marks... So she and the psychiatrist come up with a plan.

It took a week too get everything ready.

Jackson had dropped out of Gothom high and got his G.E.D. He is currently taking online classes. He's not good with people dew to something tramatic he is working on over coming that though. He just celebrated his 21 birthday. He also takes interest in Marinette work as MDC.

One day Marinette asks to make an announcement to the Class.

"Lila you win. Congrats" Lila looks smug. The rest of the class seems to think that that Marinette is about to apologize.

"I am leaving. I am choosing to save myself"

Screaming breaks out through the room after her dark marks glow through her cloths then completely disappear. Dark marks could only be left if someone had done something unforgettable to a person. Those were their marks. They had hurt her to the point destiny decided they couldn't be forgiven. Marinette shook her head. Chloe ran up to hug her. "Finally you are free" and as soon as those words left her mouth another echo of screams filled the room. The words "I am choosing to save myself" burned black were her soulmarks had been on them. The mark of a dead soulmate. Horror filled the room realizing the person in front of them was never going to be the Marinette they knew again. They had killed her.

Lila tried to do damage control. Marinette deserved it for being such a bully. And she had to make the announcement to hurt them right? But doubt was in their minds. Had they went too far? They hid the dead soul mate marks.

Marinette and Chloe moved schools and Marinette gladly showed all but two of her marks. Her parents were gray but not black. She would tell them one day. Let them know she was ladybug and had to keep secrets.

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

A while back, after i saw The Batman (2022) for the third time, my sister and i decided to watch all the Batman movies we could get put our hands on, going backwards from The Dark Knight Rises. This means that, along with TDKR, i watched Batman Forever for the very first time with no idea what to expect, other than it had Jim Carrey in it.

and then I watched it two more times, which is frankly, probably a higher concentration of Jim Carrey than is likely healthy, but nevertheless....

I think I liked it.

I mean I feel personally attacked by Val Kilmer which is a very unexpected and recent discovery for me, but it's quite shocking the nuance with which he handles Bruce Wayne in what otherwise is a film that verges on spoof territory.

But still I felt so conflicted about the pros vs the cons, I decided, on my third watch, to actually do a pro/con analysis on a +5/-5 scale and add up the good and bad respectively with everything I love adding to the positive score and everything I hated adding to the negative.

These are my commentary and results

To start I judged the standard aspects of the Batman film (the cast and the visual interpretations of the standard accouterments: Batmobile, batsuit, batcave etc.)

- Val Kilmer as Bruce Wayne: +5

- Val Kilmer as Batman: +2 (I scored them differently because honestly the performance out of the suit is significantly better than that IN the suit. I feel like this is because Kilmer accepted the role without reading the script. With the way Bruce was written as a character I think he knew what he was doing, but as far as Batsy was concerned I think he was in way over his head and was given way more dumbass one-liners than he bargained for. That's not his fault, but that doesn't make the performance more comfortable)

- Jim Carrey as Edward Nygma/The Riddler: +2

- Tommy Lee Jones as "Two-Face" Harvey Dent: -3 (on his own, he probably would have gotten only a -1 because i don't really care for the performance but it wasn't bad on its own; but I docked two extra points because Joel Shumacher and WB fucked-over Billy Dee Williams and we don't forgive that shit in this house)

- Michael Gough as Alfred Pennyworth: +5 (guys, he might be my favorite Alfred)

- Nicole Kidman as Dr. Chase Meridian: -3 (this is a low score and that's not only because her characterization is NIGHTMARISHLY over-sexualized, but also because I know she was supposed to play Ivy originally and I feel robbed)

- Chris O'Donnell as Dick Grayson/Robin: +4 (unexpectedly delightful and super super cute.)

- Gotham Cityscape: -4 (CGI Green screen hell. Like sweet mother of Jefferson Davis this is bad)

- Wayne Manor: +3

- The Batcave: +2

- The Batmobile: -3 (Worst one ever. This can rot in hell, I was glad when Nygma blew it up)

- The Batsuit (Main/ With Nipples): +3

- The Batsuit (Finale/ Without Nipples) +3 (note that both batsuits got the same positive score. The nipples were not that big a deal for me ~shrug~)

- Score: -2 (ugh unremarkable. Next.)

And then I watched the movie through, tallying up the misc. Aspects more specific to THIS movie.

Zingers, Mingers  and various other details

- Alfred: "Can I persuade you to take a sandwich with you, Sir?" | Bruce: "I'll get drive-thru." : -4 (horrifically tacky, terrible way to start the movie, but not the most irredeemable thing in it.)

- Chase Meridian: "Hot entrance." : -3 (clunky and spoofish. This is her reaction to Batman entering the scene and this tells you pretty much all you need to know about this horny, horny character)

- Lifting a bank vault door with one hand: -4 (even in a movie this crazy I will not suspend my disbelief that far)

- is that a giant baphomet statue in the middle of Gotham. Why?: -3

- Batman: "are you trying to get under my cape, doctor?" | Chase: "A girl can't live by psychoses alone."| Batman: "It's the car, right? Chicks love the car.": -5 (and reallyJust this whole scene. It's all bad. This scene, wherein Dr. Chase Meridian lights up the Bat Signal SOLELY to put the moves on Batman, does not need to exist. There is no plot furtherance in this scene it is just an exchange of really really cringey pick-up lines by Chase being rebuffed with equally awful one-liners by Batman. It has already been established in her introductory scene that this CLINICAL PSYCHOLOGIST is OBTRUSIVELY sexually obsessed with Batman, KNOWS IT and is not at all interested in examining that. We don't need this.)

- Jim Carrey's line delivery on "which one? This?!" +4

- Jim Carrey (TM) jabbering and everything else in this sequence - 4 it gets old really fast

- "surfs up, big kahuna" -3 (*sigh* this is such a boilerplate mid-90's line I'm detracting points solely for its boilerplate-ness)

- exposition news report explaining How Harvey Dent became Two-Face: necessary but bad: -2

- Bruce in a bathrobe +3 (I don't believe explanation is needed)

- Nygma's witness to the police: -2 (Cut this down after he hands over the "suicide" note and it should have been fine. Just reign it in a little.)

- "Suicide's not covered by our insurance policy." | "I know. Full benefits." : +3 expected but touching show of Bruce's benevolence; first of many affecting character moments

- "Bad Days" - the Flaming Lips: effective but annoying -1

- Black jag, black turtleneck, yes please +5

- "I have an appointment; Bruce Wayne." | "Good. You can afford to buy me a new door." +5

"in my professional opinion, this guy is a total wacko. | "Wacko. Is that a technical term?" We all thought it Bruce just said it. No points I just wanted to point this out

- the rest of this scene. Bruce stammering with chase and staring at her... neck? Lips? Like the repressed, touch-starved catholic he is. It's crazy how good the writing and tone in this scene is compared to the schlock fest on the roof with Batman. +4. I left a point off for the "I really have to get you out of those clothes" line at the end. It just ruined a perfectly good scene

- the Graysons' heroism and sacrifice and its effects on bruce and dick: +4 very effectively conveyed

- the motorcycle scene with Bruce and Dick: +5 dig everything about it

- flashback to the night Bruce's parents were killed and overall approach of Bruce's trauma: +3 there are some mis-steps but at least they approach it.

- scene where Alfred is helping dick get settled into his room and Alfred won't throw away his Robin costume? +5 so great, guys they both play this to the hilt, its so touching and I love Alfred.

- winching the Batmobile up the side of a building. Far fetched, but I like it +1

- dinner with sugar and spice -2 too rich for my blood

- earns that back with a +3 for Riddler's entrance at two-face's hideout / "O segregated one / very few people are both a summer and a winter, but you pull it off nicely"

-laundry scene with Dick and Alfred -4. Bad just bad and tacky. I know it's a reference to another movie, but that's no excuse for it existing. Still not the worst thing in the movie though

- more black turtleneck Bruce, that's at least a +3

- Robin: "How come this is the only locked door in this museum? What you got back there? | Alfred: Master Wayne's dead wives... The silver closet. Off with you." +4

- Riddler's smoking jacket +3 it's pretty great

- how did time magazine get that headshot of Batman? No addition or reduction just curious

- (Robin joyriding in the Batmobile) "goin for a ride in my love machine, baby!": -5 close, but STILL not the worst thing in the movie

- white t-shirt Bruce: only +2 because the towel obstructs the view

- line delivery: "Chase Meridian" "and what a grand pursuit you must be." Smooth af. Did not know Jim Carrey could be that charming. +4

- Nygma putting on glasses that match Bruce's glasses +2

- "o bifurcated one" lacks punch after "o segregated one". +1

- "your entrance was good, his was better." +2 Tight line, classic and snappy

-  kissing chase in the middle of a situation? Unprofessional -3

-hands on hips stance, great for the 60's crowd I'm sure but no thank you not for me -3

- shirtless Bruce +4

- yet more turtleneck Bruce +3

- kissing someone is not the appropriate response their sharing their trauma with you -5 gross

- JOYGASM! -10 THAT is the worst thing in the movie

- BLACK t-shirt bruce +5

- these riddles are really rather good +3

- tushy shot.... net zero I don't know how to feel about this.

- netting the scuba goons +3 that's a good piece of water action Thunderball is very jealous.

- "you're a man after our own heart, son. I'll see you in hell." | "I'd rather see you in jail!" Great line would work in any Batman movie, +5

- Rene Auberjenois in a bit part! +3 because we love him, rest in peace

Final scores

Pros: 120 points

Cons: 78

To be frank, I was astonished when I looked at these totals, and yes I'm sure the score would be a little more even if I hadn't been so generous in doling out points every time I found Val Kilmer particularly attractive, but then that would be severely understating how attractive I find Val Kilmer in this movie so I thought it was important to include.

Yes all of them.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Still a Little Bit Yours (Part 2) - fic

Characters: Jon Kent, Damian Wayne, various Batfam Pairing: jondami Summary: If there was one thing the world needed to learn, it was that you don’t hurt those Jonathan Kent loves. A/N: This is just basic smoop sprinkled with angst. Bruce gave Cass and Duke special permission to be extra rough on those who kidnapped Damian/hurt them in the first place. Jon and Damian wake up to Bruce on the chair and like half the fam sleeping on the end of the bed. Damian gets so mad at them. Let him sleep with his boyfriend in peace, dammit! Jon ends up now never leaving the bed and basically becomes Damian’s personal pillow as his recovery continues.

Part One | Part Two

~~

That call. That was all they needed, it turned out. The call that shattered Jon’s whole world was the one thing that might help piece it back together.

Even though it’d been over a month, the Bat-tech was able to hone in on the signal easily, and they were in the air and on their way back to France within three hours of Jon and Tim’s arrival to the Batcave.

Bruce wasn’t thrilled. He’d told Jon to go home at least seven times, that they’d contact him when Damian was safe. But at this point, Jon couldn’t believe that, not when they didn’t tell him he was missing in the first place.

He was even less thrilled when Jon grabbed the Justice League communicator out of his hand and smashed it, when Bruce said he was going to call Clark to take him back to Metropolis.

“I’m not ten anymore, Bruce.” Jon reminded with a dark giddiness as he dropped the shattered pieces onto the table. “And Damian is my boyfriend.”

“Is he still?” Jason quipped from nearby, hooking guns to his holsters. Tim had caught them all up with Jon’s side of things. “I mean…you just spent the last month thinking you were broken up and getting over him, right?”

“As part of the family that went to Apokolips to collect his dead body and resurrect him, I don’t think I have to tell you, Jason.” Jon grinned widely. “You don’t just get over Damian Wayne.”

Jason thought a moment, then snorted a laugh and clapped a hand on Jon’s shoulder.

“Okay. I get why he fell in love with Boy Scout Jr. now.” He chuckled.

“…For what it’s worth.” Jon added sheepishly, though, as Jason moved away, and Cassandra and Stephanie approached, moving towards their jet. “…Even if the breakup was real, I…I still wasn’t coping very well with it.”

The women both just smiled knowingly, and Steph jumped up to ruffle at his hair. And for a moment, Jon remembered that, for as much as he missed Damian the last month, he missed seeing the other Bats almost as much.

Bruce grumbled the rest of the time they spent gathering supplies and weapons about how Jon shouldn’t be there, and he didn’t want him nor his help. It was eventually Dick and Duke who took Bruce to the side and had him see the light. Begrudgingly allow Jon to come along.

“On one condition.” Bruce demanded, stomping up to him near the jet’s door. It’d already been decided that Jon would fly alongside the plane. “You do not engage. This is still an open investigation, and I don’t need you accidentally destroying any evidence.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m only there for Damian anyway.” Jon returned just as gruffly. “You guys be offense, I’ll be defense and extraction. No problem.”

Bruce glared at him for a moment more before raising his cowl and disappearing into the ship. Dick sighed from nearby, following after.

“He’s just worried.” He promised. “About you and Damian. And after already losing Damian like this, the thought of what might happen to you, he…”

Dick trailed off, and Jon was suddenly reminded that he was a lot closer to fifty than thirty these days, and had already lost a lot. Had already lost Damian a lot. And, clearly, it never got easier. Not for Dick or Bruce, or anyone in their family.

“…He’s still alive, Dick.” Jon whispered with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “I can still hear his heartbeat. He’s still here, just…waiting for us.”

Dick nodded absently, before he met Jon’s gaze and let his mask of cautious hope fall across his face. “Then let’s go get him, Jonno.”

The flight was long. Too long. And even alone outside the ship, Jon listened through the communicator as the Bats planned their attack, outlined the known schematics of the compound that they found, and any potential hidden areas they might have missed.

At least every ten minutes, Bruce was reminding Jon that he was to not get involved. That he was there for Damian’s defense and safety only.

Jon only rolled his eyes, muttered an exasperated, “Yes, sir.” And focus on the heartbeat that got closer every second.

(Closer…and slower. But he didn’t share that part with the rest of the rescue party.)

The compound wasn’t far from where Duke and Cassandra had been beaten and abandoned, but the reason they couldn’t find it afterwards was because it was underground, and seemingly cloaked with tech none of them had ever seen before.

“Alien?” Duke had asked as they neared it.

“Or bankrolled by some selfish rich fuck.” Jason countered. “We’ll find out if Bruce Wayne does a hostile takeover of any companies here in the next week or so, I bet.”

“Hm.” Bruce grunted. But it wasn’t a no, so they all shared one last pre-battle laugh anyway.

They circled the area for a moment, doing some last minute recognizance. “I hear at least twenty-five heartbeats besides Damian’s, Batman.” Jon called. He flicked to his x-ray vision. “And they’re spread between what looks like two rooms.”

“Evenly?” Tim asked.

“Mmm, it doesn’t look like it.” Jon decided. “Looks like a 70-30 split.”

“Damian?” Cassandra asked softly.

“Can’t tell for sure.” Jon scanned the space again, just in case. “One body looks like it could be him, and it’s in the room with less people.”

“Remember, Superman-” Bruce started, but Jon, suddenly out of patience, cut him off.

“I’m defense. You’re offense. I’m there to get Damian out and that’s it.” He rolled his eyes. “I know, Batman.” He curled his hands into fists. “Now are we just going to hover up here all day or are we finally going to go get him?”

There was a moment of silence. Then Bruce calmly, emotionlessly, stoically announced:

“On my mark.”

For as grouchy, bossy, and by-the-book Batman always acted – he was still just a big kid with big toys. And his mark wasn’t a word, but an action. And that action was turning the nose of the jet towards the ground, so he could crash land into the underground bunker of the freaks who’d kidnapped his son.

Jon grinned, and suddenly remembered why Batman was a lot of people’s favorite superhero.

He stayed off to the ship’s side, just in case. In case Bruce actually lost control of the ship, if any of the other Bats ended up hurt in the process. So he listened as the nose slammed into the earth for any screams of pain.

But all he heard was the screeching of metal, and the crashing of ceiling materials as the jet lodged itself into the roof of the compound. There were screams now, of surprise from the building’s inhabitants, and shouts for some to grab weapons.

One last shout from Stephanie as Bruce opened the cockpit, and the Bats began to file out like ants. “Oh fuck yeah, was that fun!”

Everyone was fine. Everyone was safe.

So time to do his job and find the one that wasn’t.

He dove through the lingering smoke, dodging bodies being thrown by the mini-army of vigilantes that had just arrived. Dodged weapons from the incoming henchmen as they raced into the room to help their colleagues.

Jon didn’t pay them much mind other than to notice that their clothing was a little off. There wasn’t any body armor or helmets. Just dark maroon robes, sashed belts. They almost looked like priests.

You know, if they weren’t running at him with guns and knives and…was that one carrying an unlidded jar of acid?

He didn’t care. The Bats could handle them.

He tried to remember what he saw with his x-ray vision as he weaved through the halls. Bruce had crashed into the room with the most people, so that stood to reason that the pseudo-priests Jon had seen were coming from the room with less people. The smaller room, the room where he thought Damian was.

Well, if those priests came from where Damian was, that was even less people to take out than he was originally planning.

He let Damian’s heartbeat guide him. And for a moment, he remembered when he listened for it after the ‘breakup.’ How he thought the slowness of it meant Damian was calm, relaxed.

God, how could he be so stupid? It didn’t mean he was calm. It meant he was fucking dying. How could Jon be so dense? How could he not notice?

He reached a closed door and could hear panicked voices behind it, could hear Damian’s heartbeat at the loudest it’d been so far.

The door didn’t stand a goddamn chance.

He recognized that Damian wasn’t near it, so kicked the door as hard as he could without a care. It practically disintegrated under the heel of his boot. He heard the other people in the room scream as they were showered with splinters but didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything else right now.

He let his heat vision take over his vision as he stepped into the room. There were three people in here, each holding crude weapons – a stick, a shattered bottle and a chair.

“Leave.” Jon ordered. The people cowered only slightly, but stood their ground. And Jon didn’t have time for that. “Or I’ll make you.”

They gave it one last moment to try and be brave, and any other time Jon might commend them for it. Try to talk them down, be more like his dad.

But this wasn’t any other time.

So he turned to the chair and used his heat vision to turn it to ash.

And that was enough. The other two dropped their weapons and held up their hands. Jon shifted out of the doorframe and watched them as they ran for safety.

He stared after them until they turned a corner, going away from the sanctuary Bruce and the others were in, a bonus of course, though he knew the Bats could have handled them. Then he quickly turned back, scanning the room.

It wasn’t a jail cell, or a dungeon. Just an empty, ugly, dark room. There was a table in the corner, and a TV that showed the field outside, acting almost like a window.

There was a closed curtain in the corner, that clearly hid an alcove of some sort. Damian’s heartbeat was coming from there.

Jon doesn’t know how he crossed the room. One second he was by the door, and the next he was at the curtain, slowly pulling it back. Did he float? Did he run? He didn’t know.

“Damian?” He whispered as he tugged the sheet away. “Can you hear…?”

The question died on his lips at the sight in front of him. It was Damian all right, half naked and huddled against the corner of this makeshift pantry. He was thin, so thin, like he hadn’t eaten in the month since he’d been taken. His hair was longer, past his ears, and dirty. The grease shone in the dim light.

There were bruises and cuts all over his body, some of them looked infected. His eyes were black and swollen, his lip split in multiple places. Dried blood caked along his nostrils.

But that might not have even been the worst part.

Though, really, was there just one single worst part? Were the heavy chains around Damian’s neck, wrists and ankles that latched him to the wall the worst part? Or was it the barrage of needle marks that twisted up his inner arms all the way up to his jaw?

Jon’s eyes filled with tears. But not from pain, like they usually did. Not from hurt or emotions.

From utter, blinding fury.

They did this to him. Those fucking fake priests that he’d just showed mercy to did this to him. To Damian. To the love of his fucking life.

He’d kill them. He’d go snap all their necks right now. Break every bone in each of their bodies and let them die slowly and painfully. Then burn them into ash and throw their remains in a dumpster.

He even felt himself take a step back, to do just that. But stopped when he heard Damian let out a wheezing exhale.

“Damian?” He asked again. Damian had never answered the first time. Was he even conscious? Was he aware of what was happening? He took the last few steps forward and kneeled, putting a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “D, can you hear me?”

Damian tensed at his touch and tried to jerk away, but just ended up bouncing his shoulder painfully against the stone wall behind him. When he looked up, his eyes looked almost feral, but them immediately softened as recognition took hold.

He blinked once. Twice. “…Jonathan?”

Jon swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded with a sad smile.

“What are you doing here?” Damian asked, even as Jon shifted his hand from Damian’s shoulder to his face. Damian’s skin was cold. “They…” Damian’s eyes were suddenly angry. “If they’ve laid a hand on you, I swear I’ll-”

“Nothing of the sort.” Jon promised. “We’re here to get you out of here. Take you home.”

Damian blinked and slumped back. “We?”

“Your family.” Jon explained vaguely as he let his hand fall, run gently over a scab along Damian’s chest. “God, I’m so glad I found you.”

“…I’m sorry.” Damian murmured, and Jon looked up at him in confusion. “I…I lost track of the days some time ago, but you must have been worried sick. I’m sorry for causing you any distress.”

Jon’s stomach twirled in guilt. Because he wasn’t worried, not at all. And was now the time to say that? To say ‘Oh, no, I wasn’t worried, because it turns out the psychopaths who kidnapped you pretended to be you and broke up with me.’?

No. No it absolutely fucking wasn’t.

“…Nothing is your fault.” Jon decided on. He reached forward and grabbed the collar around Damian’s neck, snapping it with a quick jerk of his hands. He followed suite with the chains around his arms and legs too. “Can you walk? Your family is taking care of the others, my only job is to get you safe.”

“…I don’t know.” Damian hummed honestly, eyes fluttering slightly. “And I don’t know if my body is strong enough to try right now.”

Jon looked back up at him with another smile. Less sad this time, more genuine. Let it reach his eyes. “No problem.” He returned his hand to Damian’s face, gently pushed his long hair out of the way. Without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed Damian as gently as he could, then pressed their foreheads together. “Jesus, I’m just…just so glad you’re alive.”

Damian scoffed a quiet laugh, and opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly there was a noise from the room behind them. They both looked back to see Batman storming in through the door.

“Superboy?” He asked as he stopped, glanced around Jon. “We…all good here? You found him?”

Jon squeezed Damian’s face just slightly before standing and turning back. “Yes, sir. Alive and well.”

Bruce nodded. “And the rest are taken care of. So let’s get the hell out of here.”

Jon nodded. “Can you help me get him up? I don’t think he can walk real well right now.”

Bruce seemed to hesitate, glancing past Jon’s shoulder again, but nodded, and took a step towards him.

And as soon as he was close, Jon grabbed the side of his head and slammed it through the closest wall.

“…That’s twice now you’ve gotten my name wrong.” Jon spit, looming over the man as he groaned in pain. “And that’s twice you’ve done a piss poor imitation of someone I care about.”

Batman looked up at Jon in confusion, borderline hurt. But then the eyes widened in realization, and instantly shifted from Bruce’s icy blue to a sickly yellow. “You.”

“Me.” Jon grinned wildly. “And I’ll admit it – you got me the first time. Because I had no idea what had happened, so of course, why wouldn’t I believe the phone call I was getting?”

Batman began to shift now, lose his muscle mass, his uniform began to change to a deep maroon.

“But then I was told the truth, and all the clues that didn’t make sense before suddenly began to piece together.” Jon hummed, picking the man up by his collar. He was much smaller than Bruce. Much thinner. Much older. “So when they said they were coming to kick your ass, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He slammed the man into the wall again, but held him there. Used his other hand to grab the man’s throat.

“Why.” He hissed. “Tell me why.”

The man choked slightly, feet scrabbling for floor, hands grabbing at Jon’s. “Lazarus.” He wheezed. “He…he carries the waters of Lazarus in his blood. I saw it in his eyes. The green of his eyes. In the field. I knew.” A cough. “I knew it was fate that we found him. He was the one who was going to make us immortal.”

Jon’s eyes widened. The needle marks. The acid the other man was carrying from this room. Experiments, no doubt. To get the magical Lazarus waters out of Damian’s blood that they believed was there.

But Damian was stubborn, and probably put up a fight. So they beat him into submission, tortured him, stabbed him with needles to drain him dry. But they couldn’t kill him, oh no. Because if Damian died they’d lose their chance at the power of the Lazarus Pit.

They were using him, like he was no more than a thing.

Jon’s nostrils flared. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you bastard.”

“…Beloved.” Damian whispered, and Jon found himself turning towards him without thinking. Damian looked tired, still slumped against that wall, head leaning against the stone. “Don’t.” He closed his eyes. “Just…leave him for Batman.”

Batman’s demands came rushing back. They were offense. Jon was defense.

Jon’s only job was to get Damian safe.

Silently, Jon nodded, but instead of dropping the man, gave himself one last piece of revenge, and threw the man across the room into the table and fake-window TV. The man gave a low moan, and it sounded like music to Jon’s ears as he walked back over to Damian, and gathered him into his arms.

Damian didn’t complain about being held, didn’t complain about being coddled. Just wrapped an arm around Jon’s neck and leaned against his shoulder.

“Thank you.” He whispered, and Jon just kissed his forehead, trying to ignore the mere fact of how much pain Damian must have been in. How exhausted.

But as he crossed the room, he stopped near the door, just once, and turned to the man.

He didn’t care who he was. What his name was. But he did care about one thing.

“Why did you call me?”

The man didn’t uncurl from his fetal position, didn’t even open his eyes. “Because we knew you would come for him.” He hissed. “The lovers always do.”

Jon blinked, and watched the man for a moment, before turning and walking out of the room, Damian a calming weight in his arms.

~~

It was a cult in that underground bunker, Jon learned later. One obsessed with becoming immortal so they could be gods. They’d kidnapped, tortured and killed at least ten people over the years before they took Damian, all for the same reason.

Jon honestly couldn’t care less.

After escaping the compound, Jon flew to a previously agreed upon spot in Geneva, where Batman had a safe house that Alfred had flown ahead to. He radioed onto the open line as he did so, and Duke, mid-battle, shouted an affirmative, and promise that they’d meet him there.

Damian could barely hold onto consciousness during the flight, and it only made Jon fly faster, to an almost dangerous speed.

Alfred met them on the balcony, and motioned for Jon to follow him after he landed. A penthouse in Geneva wasn’t exactly a hospital, so instead of a medical cot, Jon carefully laid Damian in an extravagant king-sized bed.

Jon helped where he could, which, admittedly, wasn’t in very many places. The thing he was best at, he found, was getting in the way. But, bless him, Alfred never chastised him. Never told him to move.

“This is almost a luxury.” Alfred had quipped at one point as he checked Damian’s IV bag. “Normally I’m trying to work around at least five anxious persons, not one calm one.”

Jon had tried to smile, but it didn’t come out right. Alfred seemed to understand, though, and just gave Jon’s shoulder a quick squeeze as he passed him.

Finally, Alfred proclaimed himself finished, having done all he could. He’d disinfected and wrapped wounds, given Damian painkillers and set up the IVs to replenish Damian’s fluids. The rest of his healing would come in time. For now, he’d be in the kitchen fixing Damian something gentle to eat, before preparing food for the rest of the rescue party’s eventual arrival.

Jon nodded, and sat at Damian’s bedside.

It was almost midnight by the time the rest of the Bats arrived. They explained to Jon and Alfred their investigation, and what the cult had told them. Got checked out by Alfred, came and checked on Damian, and then one by one, they each went off to another room to settle down for the rest of the night.

Jon remained at Damian’s side.

And he didn’t move. Not to sleep, he just laid his head on the mattress. Not to eat breakfast or any meal, just balanced it on his lap. He didn’t even get up to offer his seat when anyone came in to visit their brother.

He just sat there, staring at Damian’s battered face and holding his cold hand.

Damian didn’t wake up that day, or even the day after. He could tell the others were starting to get antsy about it, and agitated. What if Damian didn’t wake up? What if that cult had actually killed him, and he’d survived just long enough to see them all again? To get taken to safety?

So the Bats threw themselves into the investigation to distract themselves. Who was cult? Who funded them? Who had they killed?

Jon just stayed on his stool at Damian’s side.

It was the morning of the third day, some time before dawn. Jon had his head pillowed against his arm on the mattress next to Damian’s elbow, half turned to watch the moon reflect off the clouds through the balcony doors.

He listened as Damian inhaled, but paid it no mind. Not until: “…What are you doing?”

Jon sat up so fast he made himself dizzy. In the dim light, Damian’s half-lidded sea foam eyes almost glowed.

“W-what?”

“What are you doing?” Damian repeated groggily.

“I…I couldn’t sleep, so I was just watching the stars…” He started, but trailed off when Damian lazily waved a hand.

“I mean, why are you sitting on that stool?” Damian asked. He flopped his hand out to the open side of the bed. “There’s clearly space here. Even if you can’t sleep, at least let yourself be comfortable.”

Jon instantly dropped his gaze to his knees, and even half conscious, Damian noticed.

“Beloved, what’s wrong?” He asked sleepily, weakly reaching his hand towards Jon.

Jon pulled his hand away.

This time, Damian’s inhale was sharp. He pulled his hand back and dropped it onto his own stomach. “…Alright.”

“No, it’s not…!” Jon suddenly realized how that looked. Knew how Damian would take it. “I don’t…You didn’t…” He sighed, dropped his face into his hands. “I don’t deserve it.”

“What?” Damian asked. “Deserve what?”

“To hold your hand. To lay in your bed.” Jon groaned. “You.”

Damian hesitated, grunted softly as he shifted. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“The day you went missing, they…that shapeshifter guy, he stole your phone and he called me. As you.” Jon closed his eyes, trying to hide even further. “He…he broke up with me as you. And I…it didn’t make any sense, it never made any sense to me, but I believed him.”

Another moment of quiet. “…Oh.”

“I know. I’m an idiot.” Jon lamented. “Because how could I not know my own boyfriend? How could I believe you would break up with me over the phone?”

“Or…ever.” Damian agreed. “Unless you want…”

“Or ever!” Jon cut off dramatically, curling his covered face to his knees. “How could I believe you’d do that, and not question it! Not question that you never answered your phone after that, never told anyone, never came back to Metropolis for any reason! Even dream you tried to tell me and I just…”

“Dream me?” Damian asked. Suddenly there were fingers stroking at Jon’s hair, and he held his breath. “You dreamed about me?”

“I thought about you every second of every day.” Jon admitted glumly. “I felt like such a loser, not being able to get over you.” He paused, curled into himself more. “For believing it all in the first place.” He shook his head. “I don’t even deserve to be sitting here next to you, Damian. I don’t.”

He felt Damian’s fingers stroke for a few more seconds, then heard Damian scoff a laugh.

“Jonathan, you’re so funny.”

Those fingers in his hair were instantly at his chin, tilting his face up and out of his hands. Damian, looking beyond exhausted, was smiling at him.

“Come lay with me.” Damian asked softly.

Jon stared up at him for a moment, let his eyes wander down the bandages and new scars, then back up. “You shouldn’t want me to.” He breathed. “In fact, you should break up with me for real, because I’m such a fucking-”

“Do you want me to?” Damian asked seriously. “Do you want me to break up with you? Would you like us to remain apart? Because if after this past month that’s what you’ve decided is best for you, then I will do my best to give it to-”

“No.” Jon said instantly. “No, I…” His breath trembled. “No, I don’t want us to be apart anymore.”

“Nor do I.” Damian agreed with a gentle smile. He laid his arm across the bed. “…Please.”

Jon stared at him for a moment, then sighed and stood, carefully floating over Damian to drop onto his other side.

Damian weakly reached up to pull Jon into his arms, like a child grabbing for a balloon, and Jon let himself be dragged into Damian’s side. Latched onto Damian’s waist and hid his face against Damian’s chest.

His heartbeat was loud now. Still slow, a little too slow for Jon’s liking, but loud, and right under Jon’s ear, right where it was supposed to be.

“I’m sorry.” Jon whispered, as he felt Damian kiss at his hair, gently run his fingers along Jon’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Damian.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should apologize to you, for what that shifting bastard did.” Damian hummed, and already Jon could sense he was falling back into unconsciousness.

Because he feels safe, Jon didn’t let himself think. He feels safe here with me.

“…I love you.” Jon breathed, closing his eyes, squeezing Damian as tightly as he dared. “I love you so much, Damian.”

“I love you as well, Jonathan.” Damian answered just as softly. “For as long as I live. No matter what anyone tells you, please always remember that.” He carefully laid his hand over the one Jon had on his hip. “…Thank you for finding me. For saving me.”

“Always.” Jon smiled, looking up at Damian. Damian’s eyes were already closed once more, his breathing evening out. “Always and forever.”

“Forever and ever.” Damian mumbled as he drifted off. Jon watched him for a few more moments, until he was sure Damian was asleep again. Then he leaned up and left a careful kiss to Damian’s cheek. Lingered for a moment, then curled up under Damian’s chin, clung to him like he was a giant teddy bear.

He let his boyfriend’s heartbeat lull him to sleep.

[peppersonironi]

Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype Chapter Three

Wooo! Chapter Two (not including the prologue) is up now for my @dukethomasbigbang fic! Today's art is by @a-sketchy-character and you can find the glorious piece HERE

thx again to my betas @queerbutstillhere & @theycallme-ook

Today has a special thanks to @batgirls-appreciation who dropped out as a beta, but this chapter couldn't exist without her!

Summary:

Duke pursed his lips, not quite sure why Cass had come down to the basement, only to look into his soul, shrug, and leave. But that didn’t matter right now. As Bruce would say, “The mission comes first.”

Read on Ao3

Duke frowned down at his empty pad of paper, trying to brainstorm. It had been a mere twelve hours since the failed Rick Roll (though, the Rick Roll itself wasn’t a fail. Duke would be daydreaming about the chaos for years to come), and the day shift bat was itching for a way to make up for it.

Alas, the creative juices were not flowing that day. Duke had tried everything - taking a walk, training, meditation, writer’s sprint, and even resorting to watching prank compilations on YouTube. But nothing worked. So, he found himself watching the target Bat - Bruce - in his “natural habitat.”

Also known as the living room, mid lecture.

“But I don’t know what I did!” Tim pleaded desperately, trying to convey to Bruce his confusion.

Bruce shook his head. “No, you do, Tim. Dick told me you all will appeal to my affection to get out of the consequences for your actions -” wow, Duke remembered Dick using that exact tactic just yesterday, and it worked - “So I will not allow you to shirk the punishment.”

Tim groaned. “This is tyranny! I’m an emancipated minor, I don’t need to deal with this.”

“Actually, yes you do. You will be doing chores for Alfred for the next two weeks, and you aren’t allowed to run off to Mount Justice.”

“Then at least tell me what I did wrong!” Tim cried, throwing his hands up in the air. Bruce rubbed his temples, then glanced briefly at Duke.

“You know what you did, and how it affected those around you. And you’re grounded because of it. No room for arguments. Now go work on the sprinklers, Alfred has mentioned they’ve been finicky.”

Tim scoffed and stalked out, soon after followed by Bruce.

Duke considered relocating as well - he couldn’t very well observe Bruce if said wild furry wasn’t present. But something about that conversation that sent a light shiver up Duke’s spine, some small spark of inspiration.

An idea began to form in his mind, and Duke smiled slowly.

*****

“For all Bruce’s waxing poetic on the merits of high tech stuff, this pipe organization is seriously ancient,” Duke muttered under his breath as he glanced from the blueprints he had secured to the mess of pipes and spigots and nozzles in front of him.

Though to be fair, this wasn’t the Batcave. Duke was in the basement of Wayne Manor - yes, he was just as surprised to find they actually had one of those that wasn’t dedicated to the dark and mystique training of Gotham’s Protectors. And impromptu Mario Kart challenges, because as Tim had once told Duke “We all know that’s the real reason Bruce got a giant computer setup.”

Duke cursed softly under his breath when he dropped a wrench that began to clang around in the messy cage of metal. He set the blueprints aside atop the gallons of paint he had chosen, and reached around and down to get the wrench. When he came back up, he found himself face to face with his sister Cassandra.

Oh shit, Duke thought, as he tried to figure out how to cover for what he was doing in the plumbing of the Manor.

Cass squinted at him and, not for the first time, Duke felt like he was an onion trapped beneath her gaze, slowly being peeled back layer by layer till the young woman before him knew every little detail about him. Every thought or plan he ever had.

Duke began to sweat, unable to keep his panic under wraps. Cass was scarier than Bruce, that was just a fact.

Cass tilted her head a fraction of an inch, and Duke thought he was a dead man. But, much to his relief and confusion, Cass shrugged and turned. She walked lightheartedly out of the basement and to the stairs, whistling tunelessly as she went.

Duke pursed his lips, not quite sure why Cass had come down to the basement, only to look into his soul, shrug, and leave.

But that didn’t matter right now. As Bruce would say, “The mission comes first.”

*****

As all members of the Wayne family knew, the Library was one of the best places, period. Aside from the living room which was always a mess of pillows, bean bags, inflatable dinosaurs, spare semi-automatic weaponry and knives, the Library was the most personal room in the expansive home that was the Manor. Sure, it was cleaner and home to fewer surprise nerf gun fights, but It still had an air of warmth about it. It was the place that they would go to to rest after a difficult patrol. Where you could find Jason reading some book in a corner, Tim busy with WE work at the large table, Damian trying to teach Alfred the Cat and Titus to read picture books, Cass and Steph trying to be subtle about making out (though to be fair that was only half the time, other times Cass was working on reading with Steph helpfully giving her guidance). Dick would always be trying to decide what to read and but he would never actually succeed, Bruce would sit in his tall armchair in the corner overlooking every small detail of his children with a not-quick-smile-but-pretty-darn-close on his face.

Duke himself also had his own spot that he would work on writing poetry, or just surf Tumblr. It was a window seat at the far side of the library which was technically big enough for three people, but Duke had a strict policy that it was his and his alone and no he totally wasn’t bullied by Cass that one time to snuggle. Why on Earth would you ever consider such a thing?

It was in this spot now that Duke was situated, though he was not alone. Titus - yes, Damian’s dog - was draped across his lap. Now, Duke didn’t mean to steal his little brother’s pets, but it just happened. Titus was in need of snuggles or belly rubs when Damian was away with Jon or on patrol at night, and Duke just happened to be the only one that said canine could bully into granting him.

Thankfully, like all bats were, Duke was a multi-tasker. He wasn’t put off by having to scratch a dog behind the ears whilst simultaneously checking the twelve blinking dots on his laptop screen that represented his family members.

Duke stared intensely at the diagram of the Manor as all the dots slowed down and finally stayed in their predetermined positions. Huh, Tim was right. Stalking family members did pay off!

The dots suddenly stopped blinking, and Duke snapped out of his self congratulations. It was go time . He switched windows, then quickly pulled out his phone and pressed a button.

There were several screams that echoed throughout the ancient halls, those screams spoke of terror and surprise, and passed along the message that something was very, very wrong in the world. The status quo had been broken, and there was no returning from this.

Duke smirked down at his computer, where a dozen different squares displayed camera footage of the real time happenings of the Manor. Said footage was showing several members of Duke’s family drenched in paint. The same paint that Duke had meticulously divided and poured into the ceiling sprinkling system that the Manor had for some totally-not-plot-related reason. The same paint which had been primed and ready to be sprayed out of the spigots coating each bat with the perfectly calculated, even layer.

The paint had just finished being deployed, and yet several people were for some reason trying to fight it off like it was an attacker. Duke noticed that the swinging of bo staffs, AK-47’s and katanas were altogether unsuccessful. Honestly, the people who were standing completely still in shock, or who were trying to shake off the paint were having much better luck.

But then everyone finally realised that they weren’t being sprayed anymore, and a collective sigh spread out across the Manor. The onslaught was done, and they could finally gather together and grab the pitchforks to hunt down the responsible party.

It was then that the glitter was deployed.

The chaos immediately multiplied tenfold, and the screams sounded up again. The air was filled with the sparkly dust that was way too thin to swat away. (No, Duke totally didn’t spend extra time researching to find the world’s finest glitter)

Duke was outright laughing at this point, so hard that he almost fell off the window seat. Titus barked suddenly, and Duke sobered enough to get back upright and watch the finishing up of the chaos. He had to admit, this felt wonderful. If he had to describe his current state of thrill in two words, he would have admitted that he felt altogether too close to the Hellmo Meme.

Unfortunately, Duke was not Stephanie, and ran out of glitter eventually. The vents stopped blasting the film of fairy dust, and the bats were given a reprieve.

Though the break was short lived, as just then, Bruce’s loud bellow sounded throughout the giant house.

“ALL OF YOU GET IN HERE!”

Duke chuckled as he scooched Titus over and set his laptop to the side so he could get up. This was all working perfectly! He’d arrive at Bruce's interrogation completely free from all paint or glitter, which would immediately prove his guilt. And if that didn’t work, then he supposed he could outright confess. But that wasn’t the point of this. The point was for Bruce to come to the conclusion on his own.

He walked down the hall, completely carefree. So happy and confident in his own abilities that he never even noticed that Cassandra’s paint or glitter didn’t go off. That she wasn’t even present where the tracker he had subtly placed on her earlier that day said she was.

*****

Duke hummed to himself as he skipped along the carpet, past the antique vases and random finger paintings, past the drawing rooms and bathrooms, and towards Bruce. All was quiet.

Though that began to trouble Duke, as he got closer to one of the rooms which was very special. It was where Cass had been situated, playing with Selina’s cat Isis, for the past hour. Now, Cassandra was quiet, sure. But not that quiet. And besides, wouldn’t the cat be screeching right about now? Cass didn’t seem like the person to give a nerve hit to an animal just because it was being loud ( cough Jason cough ).

He slowly entered the room and looked around, but was surprised to find it completely empty. Not just of girl and cat, but of paint and glitter too.

“You were mistaken.”

Duke whirled around to find Cass sitting in an armchair, wrapped in shadows, and stroking Isis in a manner not altogether different from that of an Evil Mastermind™.

“Uh…” Duke replied, “about what?”

Cass smirked, and Duke felt a shiver run up his spine. “Actions have consequences. ”

Duke frowned. Wait, what? He glanced around again, trying to figure out what Cass meant. On a surface level he understood, but there was something about the way Cass was eyeing him that told him something else was up.

The only thing he could find that was out of the ordinary, however, was the camera he had placed just yesterday. Huh, now that he thought about it, he was at just the right angle to see it. Which meant he was in direct view of the camera itself. Pretty darn to close to where he had been planning Cass would stand, actually.

Then a faint spitting noise came from above him.

Oh.

*****

Duke trudged forlornly into the room where the rest of the bats - except Cassandra, who had disappeared after the glitter had deployed onto Duke - had gathered. He was one of the last to arrive, muttering curses under his breath, so all eyes were on him as he opened the door and joined them.

Though that also meant that Duke could see them. He had to admit, that as disappointed as he was, it was still hard to keep a grin from spreading across his face. Boy, he had done a great job with color coordination, hadn’t he?

Bruce was front and center, covered in a dark gray paint which had the sheen of yellow glitter. Dick had black paint completely covering him (much more than Duke planned. Did Dick roll in the stuff?) along with blue glitter. Jason had both red paint and glitter on him. Tim had started off with a lighter colored paint - this time red - and then the look was finished by black glitter. Damian looked like a small Christmas tree in his green paint and red glitter. Harper had blue paint then covered in purple glitter, both of which were the exact shades of her hair. Duke wasn’t a monster ; he knew how to match colors.

The cousins - both honorary and actually - had also been present. Bette had been appropriately targeted with a flaming orange and gold combination. Kate had black paint and, instead of red, Duke had picked a rainbow glitter for her. From the slight glint in her eye, Duke supposed he had chosen correctly. Jean-Paul had been doused in yellow paint and red glitter, and he honestly looked like a very large and human shaped version of his sword. Luke was covered in silver paint and an electric blue glitter.

Bruce, however, didn’t give Duke a second glance, covered in yellow paint and black glitter (which had been meant for Cass, but honestly, it fit Duke quite well), though he was.

“Good, now we just have to wait for Steph,” Tim remarked, rolling his eyes.

Duke frowned. “What about Cass? She’s here too.”

Everyone gave Duke a weird look. “Uh, no she isn’t. She’s been hanging out with Selina and Babs all weekend.”

“Then your intel is wrong,” Duke countered. “She was just here! I planned on her being here!”

The silence in the room was palpable. Before, where there had been bickering and accusations, the quiet had taken over. Everyone stared at Duke with suspicion in their eyes.

Finally, Duke thought, sighing in relief.

Bruce opened his mouth about to question Duke’s statement when the doors to the room banged open.

“What’s up, Bitches? The Waffle Queen has arrived and looks as fabulous as ever!”

Duke stared, completely amazed that she actually seemed to like the purple on purple combo Duke had picked for her. Oh, yeah, now that he thought about it made perfect sense that Steph was the only one to like this.

“Wow, whoever did this really got my colors right!" Steph continued as she waltzed in and posed in front of everyone, her hip cocked and arm thrown up dramatically.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, and he began to growl at her. “This is not funny.”

Steph pouted. “What do you mean? I sure think it is!”

Oh boy, she didn’t notice she was digging her own grave, did she? From the looks of the other bats, they shared Duke’s sentiment.

“Stephanie Brown, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Stephanie smirked. “Yup! I look way better than you, you old fur- hey wait! Are you blaming me ?!”

Bruce glared even harder, and Stephanie started to protest, claiming that she was but an innocent victim of these pain-filled proceedings! It was not her fault! Nor was it her fault that she happened to get colors that she liked better than everyone else.

Bruce refused to hear what she said, and told her to go get changed. “You will be cleaning up this whole mess, and no patrolling until it’s done.”

Bruce turned and stalked out, and Steph was left speechless - for once - in the hall. She backed away, seeing the angry stares from the others. The only one who didn’t seem mad at her, was Duke himself. He opened his eyes wide, conveying pity. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed silently.

Instead of being reassuring, however, Steph squinted in suspicion. Oh shit, that probably hadn’t been the best move.

Just moments after Steph left, Jason threw up his hands. “Okay, who wants to have a water gun fight to clean off?”

There were several cheers of assent, but Duke quickly made his own escape at that time. He honestly wasn’t in the mood to get splashed in the face with water. Now was not the time for fun, as the failed prank still hung over him.

Now was the time for plotting.

*****

“Okay, but why on earth do you have a fully functioning sprinkler system in every room?”

“Yeah, Bruce, even for you that’s paranoid! What caused you to think that was necessary?”

“You.”

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

A thing of honour

Warning: This one got super angsty super fast and I had no idea how it happened but here we are Word count: ~3k (sis snapped) Summary: Keeping your alter ego a secret from Damian was all fun and games, especially since he seemed to hate your superhero persona while loving your "normal" you, but what happenes when he finds out about the whole thing in the worst way possible...

This was a request by a wonderous Anon:  Hiii, i’d like to request a damian x reader, where the reader also fights alongside damian and jon as their alter ego. Damian and the reader don’t get along as superheroes, but as their normal selves they do. The only one who doesn’t know of the other person’s identity is Damian, which makes it all even more amusing for jon and the reader. But when the reader is brought back to the batcave after being injured, he finds out. Ty 💕

You hadn't meant for it to go this far. Really, you didn't. You had wanted to tell him as soon as possible, but then Jon had told you about how he talked about you-well, about your alter-ego- behind your back. But to be fair, it didn't keep on being behind your back for long, even though Damian didn't know that. "Tt, she'd do us all a favour if she'd stay at home," Damian grumbled when the muted Tv in the corner of the small coffee shop that he, Jon and you visited frequently, showed a picture of Ace, or rather you in your vigilante outfit (kindly donated by your god-aunt Diana who supported you with everything you did and was the reason you were now best friends with Jon and Damian's girlfriend). You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "What's your problem with her anyways? Shouldn't you be thankful that she helped you?" you sighed while picking at your piece of pie with the fork. You could feel Jon's knowing look on you, but you paid it no mind. "I could have very well handled it without her, she was just a bother anyways," he huffed and you couldn't help but chuckle a bit. He'd eat his words sooner or later. "I was on a case with her earlier that month and I really thought she was great. She has fighting skills on the same level as Diana, don't you think so too Y/N?" Jon sent you a bright, great smile and you could've sworn he winked at you. "I'm not sure I'd go that far," you answered with a small smirk and shrugged your shoulders, "It's not like I've seen her in action yet anyways, only know her on Tv and from what you guys tell me." Damian looked between the two of you slightly confused and highly annoyed, but you were sure that he wouldn't be able to put two and two together. For him, you were his sweet, but otherwise defenceless girlfriend that couldn't knock a two-year-old out and, to be fair, for the first years of your relationship that was exactly what you were. A normal girl in love with the great detective's son and best friend with Superman's. But then Diana (after years upon years of begging) took you with her to Themyscira and there something changed. Obviously you wouldn't be able to learn to fight in the two weeks you'd stay there, but somehow, after watching Diana train with the other Amazons, you felt like your muscles were burning with energy and every fibre of your being was urging to fight. Diana almost lost her mind when you stormed onto the training field, afraid that you'd get hurt on her watch, but she froze in her tracks when she saw you defeating one of the amazons as if you've been fighting for all your life. That's how you found out that somehow you had the power to copy the fighting style of anyone you watched. When you came back from your trip you spend a good three months watching every piece of realistic fighting that you could get your hand on and soon you were, in terms of fighting without powers, even besting Diana. Even though you knew you would never seriously be able to defeat her it was still a good feeling to know you were pretty good. So you became Ace. At first, it was great and you liked being a hero more than you ever thought you did, but soon you started feeling bad for keeping such a big secret from your best friends, especially knowing that they had told you about their secret as soon as they completely trusted you. So you had been planning to tell them when Jon called you to whine about Damian annoying him about some new vigilante who he had seen fighting in "his area" earlier that week. The look on your face when you realized that it had to be you. That was when a wicked thought planted itself in your head. Not soon after you had told Jon- and Jon being Jon, soon his family new about you and your plan too and that somehow ended in Damian's family knowing about both too. That's how you ended up being in the situation you were right now. Jon sitting there, having to hold back laughter and Damian being as clueless as ever. Did you feel bad about basically lying to him? Yes, somewhat you did. Was it really funny? Yes, yes it really really was. "But anyways," you restarted the conversation, finally taking a bite out of your abused cake, "I read somewhere recently that she was working with Batman against the Riddler two weeks ago." You smiled at the memory of how petrified you had been when your boyfriend father caught you running through Gotham, hunting after the Riddler, and how amazing it was to fight alongside him after he told you that he trusted Diana's judgement and would welcome you to become an ally to his team(/family), especially considering your relationship to Damian, but he also respected your "prank" and that you'd keep your distance until you'd finally tell him. "Tt, he wouldn't have needed her anyways. Especially not if I'd been there, but just because I lightly stab Jason once, I have to stay at home for patrol," he pouted and, even though you couldn't help smiling at his cluelessness, you also couldn't help yourself from giving him a small peck on the corner of his still pouting lip, making a small blush crawl onto his face at your PDA. "Uhm," Jon, who was still always extremely awkward at seeing the two of you kiss or- god forbid- actually make out, even though he himself called himself your biggest shipper, stammered, "H-hey Damian if your father works with her, why don't you ask him who she is?" His eyes widened as soon as the words left his mouth and he had to actively look away from you because he thought that he'd maybe start to cry if he'd saw the fury filled glare you sent his way. "Don't you think I did?" Damian huffed but didn't notice your angry eyes. "A-and what'd he say?" "He said it wasn't 'his secret to share,'" he scoffed, underlining how ridiculous he thought it was by making air-quotes. "But anyway, what did you guys plan on doing this weekend? I've heard there a really cool new movie in theatres right now. Damian's treat?"

It was two weeks after the conversation in the coffee shop when your guilt about keeping such a big secret from your boyfriend slowly started eating you up from inside. The fact that the movie's side story was about the main character and his love interest almost losing each other forever because of a secret that stood between that didn't really help much, did it now? So you've been planning how to do it for hours when your phone vibrated and twitter notification showed you that Robin was seen on his way through Gotham, most likely on patrol. It was really a short circuit reaction to get into your suit and jump out your window into the direction of where you thought the picture might have been taken. You were almost put off by how quickly you found him. Maybe it was because of how well you knew him, but it still surprised you to no end. "I heard you had something you have a bone to pick with me," you said, having no real plan on how to handle this. Damian span around at an unbelievable pace and you would have certainly been cut by the Batarang that was thrown your way, had it not been Diana's extra training in the area of "people will definitely throw sharp objects your way when you least expect it". For a second your eyes stayed on the Batarang that you held in your hand until they wandered back up at your unknowing boyfriend who looked at you like you were evil as a person. "Listen, I don't want to fight you, we're on the same team, remember?" you tried to somewhat clear the water. "Tt, you're nowhere near my team. You're just a little girl who thinks she can play superhero." "Okay, isn't that a little sexist?" you couldn't help the snarky comment, "And nevertheless, I've defeated real criminals, I've helped the city. What's your damn problem with me anyway. What have I ever done to upset you?" Your voice was raising and you were slightly afraid that he could recognize your voice, now not being too sure if you actually wanted him to know who you were anymore. "You're just an imposter. Don't you think I've noticed that your fighting style, as multifaceted as it may be, is just an exact copy of other peoples, mainly Wonder Women? Does she know that she has a seemingly shameless copycat running around?" You took a small step back out of surprise. He had never talked with your persona before and he still figured you out like an open book. You were fascinated and at the same time extremely annoyed and angry at his lack of empathy and him not even trying to find out who you were. "So what? Do I have to have my own style just to fight crime? Is it wrong of me to try and help people?" "It's a thing of hono-" "Oh shut the hell up and get that giant stick out of your ass," you huffed and made a sweeping gesture, "This city needs all the help it can get. Hell, this world needs all the help it can get! So excuse me for trying to be part of this help." You saw that he wanted to say something, but you didn't let him. "And if you are so invested in my honour, I have you know that Wonder Women is well aware of my fighting style! She was the one who thought it too me after all." With that, you turned around and jumped off of the building onto the balcony below it, keeping on climbing down the building until you were on the ground. All the frustration inside you made you feel your bone ache with the tears that you held in, while you stormed through the allies of Gotham, only stopping when you stood in front of an abandoned warehouse that was a hotspot for crime, that you'd usually keep away from, but right now you needed a ventile to get the anger out of you. When you entered, it was completely empty. "Well, so much for that," you muttered to yourself. You turned around, ready to leave and look somewhere else when you felt something pierce simultaneously through your back and your stomach. Your breath hitched in pain and shock when you looked down to see the tip of a short sword or a long knife standing out of your abdomen. "What a shame, I had planned for that to enter someone else's body. Too bad," a male voice echoed through the large empty hall, followed by the sound of a closing door. For a moment you thought about trying to follow him, but when you slightly turned around and the pain shot through you, you decided against it. You had to get medical attention. And that as soon as possible.

You had no idea how, but somehow, as unlikely as it seemed, you had managed to end up at the manor, your suit drenched with your own blood and every step painfully. The world was spinning around you and there were more black points in your sight than the actual world. With the last energy you could manage to gather, you pushed the doorbell and managed to stand straight while waiting for it to open. "Miss Y/L/N, what a surprise to see you here, especially in this attire. It is not wise to come in this way when you're wearing this," he welcomed you with a scolding look, not noticing the silver blade that was still stuck in your stomach, in his eyes, your mask seemingly covering how pale, tired and lifeless you already looked. Even if you were still awake enough to think straight, you wouldn't exactly have been surprised by him knowing who you were. He was still looking at you expectedly when you suddenly dropped forward against Alfred, managing with the last of your lifeforce to keep your stomach back a bit as to not to stab him with the tip of the long knife. The Butler tried to steady you by draping his arm around you when he suddenly took in a sharp breath as he felt the warm liquid that was your blood cover his hand and forearm, and his hand touching the handle of the weapon that might cause your ultimate demise. As quick as possible he picked you up, careful to keep your stomach as straight as possible so that the knife wouldn't cause more damage than necessary, and brought you down into the Batcave, not paying any mind to Damian who was sitting in the seat in front of the Batcomputer, sharpening his Katanas. Alfred carefully laid you down onto one of the medical beds on your side, quickly pulled up your medical file and sorted through one of their emergency 'blood-banks' to give you a transfusion. By the time he had you connected to all the medical machines- he was extremely quick after years of training, Damian came rushing to his side. He had a worried look on his face until he caught sight of your suit. "What is she-" "We have no time for that. Call Dr. Thompkins! Now!" Damian didn't dare to oppose Alfred's command and quickly did as he told before he came back to Alfred who did his best to keep you alive, your heartbeat way too slow. "She's on her way, I told her it was urgent," Damian grumbled. He was, of course, somewhat worried about you- well, about Ace- but seeing his object of daily annoyment laying there in front of him, basically dead, he couldn't help but feel validated in his hate towards her. That was until Alfred took your mask off to check your reaction towards light to see if you were still responsive. Damian could hear his heart break and stop when he saw who he felt was maybe the love of his life lay there, hair dull and dishevelled around your head, skin almost wide and your face so lifeless. His brain couldn't comprehend what was going on and it was like time froze. He only started to realize anything was happening again when he felt his father's arm pull him away from where Dr. Thompkins, who he hadn't even notice coming in, and Alfred closed the makeshift medical curtain to start operating you. Damian looked up at Bruce, his tearstained cheeks still wet, no sign of his eyes stopping to cry anytime soon, and saw the look in his eyes. That look of sorriness. That look of hopelessness. That look like he was sure, that you wouldn't make it out of the cave alive.

The tension in the cave was so explosive that no one dared to say a word. Besides the members of the Batfamily that were gathered there, Diana was pacing through the room and Jon and Clark were silent beside their best friends- Clark with a hand on Bruce's shoulder and Jon holding Damian's hand, another thing no one dared to speak about, not budging at the strength of his grin that would break a normal humans hand. It was nothing against what he had to endure when he had first entered the cave. A completely livid and messy, tired-looking Damian came at him, pushing his chest while screaming at him, asking him if he knew. When Jon didn't answer, just a look of extreme guilt in his eyes, Damian snapped. It took Clark and Bruce together too rip him off of his best friend who just stood there and silently took every blow. When Damian had finally calmed down, his eyes slowly watering again, Jon dared too move closer to him, his worry over his best friend greater than the shame he felt for being- in his eyes- partly responsible for your state. Damian, who deep inside knew that it wasn't Jon's fault- that it wasn't anyone's fault but the persons who had thrown that knife- clutched onto his best friend and cried onto his shoulder, which was all it took for Jon to break and the tears to roll down his cheeks too. When it felt like they were both dry of tears they sat down, hand in hand. With Diana, it wasn't too different, just less violent. She came rushing in and demanded to see you. When Bruce made it clear that you were still operated on, she wanted to storm out of the cave and comb through the city for the person who was responsible for that. Bruce somehow managed to talk her out of it, but he knew that she wouldn't be the only one who'd started wreaking havoc when Dr. Thompkins came out of the medical area with the bad news he already expected. He just hoped he would manage to be a good father for Damian when it'd count most. Almost nine hours of nearly complete silence had passed before Alfred came to them, still in his scrubs. Everyone stopped what they were doing and you could've heard a pin drop. "She's through and will make it. No permanent damage, but she won't be able to do any physical straining activities for the next few months. It was a very close shot." A collective breath of relief went through the room and a lot of tense shoulders relaxed. "Can I- Can we see her?" Damian's voice, that was so much timider than anyone was used to, asked and Alfred could see the desperation on his face. "Yes, but she probably won't wake up very soon. Her body is thoroughly and utterly exhausted." Damian didn't care. He sat beside your bed for the next two days. The others would come in for a while, either to make sure Damian isn't completely alone or to be with you but left after a few hours, not being able to abandon their lives forever. It was around midnight, Jon and Clark had just left to get back to Smallville for a change of clothes and a goodnight sleep in their own beds a few hours ago when Damian shot up from being half-asleep at the sound of a groan echoing through the empty room. His eyes looked around frantically, searching for any sort of danger when a small cough turned his attention to you. Your eyes were still closed but your face was pinched together in pain. "Hey," Damian whispered and took hold of your hand, his demeanour easing a bit when you pressed it. "Dami?" you whispered back with a coarse voice and slowly your eyes fluttered open. When you saw into his face, worry and sorrow marked onto it, you couldn't help the tears from welling up, everything that had happened and the realization of almost losing everything came crashing down onto you. "Shhhh, it's okay, everything okay," Damian mumbled soothingly and quickly sat onto the side of your bed to take you into his arms. For the last 48 hours, he had imagined every sort of conversation about why you didn't tell him about your alter ego, about how you could've been so careless, about why you even became a vigilante when you knew how dangerous it was, but at that moment he realized that all that was unimportant. Of course, he'd have to talk about it with you sooner or later, but after almost losing you, the fact that you were still there in his arms was the most he could want.

[ellana-ravenwood]

Right after a stand off, and Superman finally learning Batman’s real identity :

It was bound to happen. It was getting ridiculous and too long now. It was bound to happen. And it did. This was it now, Clark knew that Bruce was the bat. The last wall standing in between their friendship was finally down (this was how Clark saw it, and he knew Bruce would find it cheesy and roll his eyes a lot of he knew, but this was also rather true). And Batman, showing good faith (ya know how Clark got kinda sour for the longest time that Bruce knew who he really was long before the opposite was true ? That he thought they were friends yet...? Oh, and the “contingency plans” ? Haha) invites Superman to his batcave. Big step. And the man of steel knows this. He knows Batman gave his trust like this to only a handful of people.

Clark is looking around, kinda dumbfounded a guy like Batman has a dinosaur and a giant penny in his damn hide out. It’s just so extra ya know ? This entire Batcave is so extra. There’s memorabilia of so many of Batman’s cases (not that Clark is a fanboy and knows about those cases, you know, he’s just a journalist, he stays up to date with um...the worlds’ current events). Or other objects that seems much more personal. He can see a Robin’s costume right in the middle of the cave, one he knows belong to the second Robin, Batman’s late sidekick (and beloved son), or a few framed cinema tickets reading “Mark of Zorro” on it, near the Batcomputer...  

He approaches a shelf full of hard drives, with dates and letters written on them. He takes one which has : “12/24/09 - 07/30/10 - D & J” written on it. He has absolutely no idea what it means. So far, he had been able to explain most of what he saw (and the few things he didn’t, well, let’s just say he didn’t really want an explanation), but those hard drives ? Absolutely no clue. It was rather intriguing, too. Clark always thought the Batman, such a paranoid person, would keep all of his files safely locked away, encrypted, unaccessible etc etc...not on a hard drive standing on a shelf in plain sight like that. Not that a lot of people come down to the batcave, but still. So, out of pure candid curiosity, he asks : 

Clark : “Hey, what are those ? Records of old cases of yours ? Maybe some ongoing ones ?” 

Bruce : “Pictures. And a few videos.” 

Clark : “Pictures of...?”

Bruce : “Of my children.” 

Clark : “Of your...What ?!” 

Clark looks back at those shelf FULL OF HARD DRIVES. Turns back to Bruce and lets out a nervous chuckle. Is the Batman messing with him ? Is he joking ?? Clark never saw him joke before, he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, how he’s supposed to react. And so he just awkwardly smiles, waiting for Bruce to do something. The Bat walks towards him, takes the hard drive he’s holding out of his hand, and says : 

Bruce : “This is between Christmas of 2009 and Summer of 2010, and has pictures of -he shows the letters- Dick and Jason.” 

Oh God. Was he not joking ? Are those really pictures of his...children ? This was giving an entire different image of Batman that Clark never would have thought possible. This was making him...Wow. 

The mighty Superman wasn’t sure how to react. This came as a rather big shock. The day before he didn’t even know that Bruce Wayne was Batman, and now not only did he discovered that fact, but also that said Batman maybe wasn’t as cold, harsh, distant and broody as he thought he was... 

Because he had at least twenty high capacity hard drives full of pictures and videos of his kids. Because as he put back the one that Clark took out, he had the softest expression on his face. One that Clark wasn’t even sure he realized he arbored. 

It was the first time Clark saw Batman without a scowl. Saw him with...with...

Clark : “Can I see some of them ?” 

Superman heard himself ask. And after a brief hesitation, Bruce shrugged and nodded (secretly super happy and kinda excited to show his kids, and ready to brag about them). After all now, Clark knew. He knew his name, he probably figured out his children were all the little “side kicks” he met over the years. 

He knew who he really was. 

Of course, the Batman had no ways to know that Clark discovered much more than his secret identity. No. 

He knew who he really was. 

All thanks to hard drives full of family pictures...

________________________________________________

I don’t know what this is, I was thinking about that and the thought wouldn’t leave my head up until I wrote it down in a few quick minutes. Thought I might as well share hehe. This isn’t to take too seriously by the way, I’m just real soft for Dad!Bruce, and for a NOT-ONE-DIMENSIONAL-BRUTE!Bruce. 

Also, I caught up to current canon stories so um...you know hahahahahahah. Oh God. Anyway. Here.