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luxaofhesperides · 10 months

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You know how Spiderman has 'canon events'? And how Gwen would always die? How about in every universe Duke exists in, there would always be Danny. And every time they fall in love! But whenever Duke tells/hints at him being The Signal, Danny suffers an accident or dies.

Like let's say in the DC vs Vampires universe, Duke tells Danny he's Signal and then a few days later he gets turned into a vampire and Duke has no choice but to kill him.

Or something like that yknow?

Earth 26.

The undercity is full of life. People from above refuse to understand it, staunch in their beliefs that the undercity is full of crime and sickness, drugs and filth. But the people down there are more human than any of the ones Duke has met up top.

Though Bruce Wayne can try to bring Duke in all he likes, there’s no denying that Duke doesn’t belong. His heart will always be in the undercity, where he was born and grew up and lived and lost so much.

The undercity is where Danny is.

Away from the blue skies filled with blimps, tucked beneath the towering buildings and clocktowers and elevated rails for trains leaving trails of smoke through the city, there in the cramped spaces and dark alleys, is Danny.

He ducks through familiar alleys, cutting across perilously stacked homes and hopping over railings to get to the Fenton Lab faster.

He’s been excited all day, heart thrumming with anticipation, as he returns to his roots and seeks out Danny. Today is the day he’s going to come clean, tell Danny everything: his feelings, his powers, his identity as The Signal, fighting crime in all parts of the city to keep Gotham safe. He’s sure Danny suspects something is going on with him, likely has already guessed at everything he wants to talk about, but Danny deserves the truth.

It is his inventions that help Duke save people, after all.

Finding the front door of the Fenton lab is always a challenge. Metal scraps and materials stripped from vehicles litter the front of the building from people leaving all their unwanted things with the Fentons. Miscellaneous inventions and tools are left scattered around as well, creating a labyrinth that Duke has to traverse every time he wants to see Danny while he’s working with his parents.

It takes a few minutes, but Duke manages it, pushing open the door after a quick knock.

“Danny? Are you there?”

He can hear something from the lower floor, a strange, high pitched whirring noise. His powers kick in and suddenly he can see people rushing around the room, shouting in voices that he won’t be able to hear until the time comes. He can see himself, crying.

Duke’s heart drops.

“Danny? Danny!”

He runs down the stairs, suddenly terrified that he’s too late. Something is going to happen to Danny. It has to be Danny, because no one else is home with him; that’s why Duke asked to meet in the Lab, to have some privacy while the other Fentons were out.

The noise is louder, too loud to hear over, and Duke rushes into the Lab just in time to see some strange circle of metal spark with electricity. Danny stands right before, staring up at it.

“Danny!” Duke shouts as loud as he can, and Danny startles, then turns around.

Their eyes meet just as the machine finishes turning on, the metal circle ripping open with a thunderous noise, and Duke can do nothing but watch as it sends electricity and some other energy racing through Danny’s body.

It lasts just a brief moment, and then Danny is crumpling to the ground, eyes closed as the machine settles. The swirling pit of white and green stares out at him and Duke knows without a doubt that Danny is dead. . . .

Earth 41.

Duke’s been acting strange. Well, stranger than usual.

Danny’s not one to go around poking at people’s secrets, especially not his boyfriend’s, but he knows something big is going on. He’s not worried that Duke is cheating on him, but he can see the injuries he comes back with some days, citing all the unrest and the resurgence in crimes following Batman’s death.

He wonders if Duke is going out each night for street fighting, forcing all his emotions into his fists until they’re beaten bloody. Batman’s death hit him hard, and Danny has no idea what to do to help him.

They’re both stressed, on edge and scared, but they don’t fight as much as he expected. Admittedly, it’s hard to fight where they’re always spending time apart.

No longer. Tonight, Danny is determined to get to the bottom of things so he can help Duke with whatever he’s going through. He even texted Jazz to get some tips about communication and helping someone through grief. He’s as ready as he’ll ever be.

Right at 3AM, the window slides open.

“Welcome back, Duke,” Danny says, watching as Duke flinches, then sighs as he closes the window.

“What are you doing here, Danny?”

“Well, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, I decided to hang out here and wait for you. But you’ve been gone for a long time.”

“Sorry, Danny, but I’m really tired. Can this wait?”

Anger bubbles in his gut and Danny takes a deep breath to force it down. “I’ve been waiting. If you keep pushing this conversation off, we’re never going to get anywhere.”

Duke slumps against the window, rubbing a hand against his face, looking exhausted. “Look, Danny, things have been getting real bad, and I don’t want you to get hurt because of it.”

“What’s going on, Duke? What are you so worried about?”

“It’s… The guy who killed Batman. His name is Karma, and I’ve been going after him.”

“You’ve been what?!” Danny shouts, shooting to his feet. “Duke, are you insane? Anyone who can kill Batman is bad news, there’s no way anyone short of like, Superman, can stop him! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Someone has to stop him! And I can do something to help, okay? I’ve been helping the other bats fight him. I can do this.”

Danny clenches his fists, feeling frost crack against his skin. “You could have told me,” he says. “You know I can help, too. You’re not the only one with powers.”

“I can’t endanger you like that, Danny.”

“So you leave me in the dark instead? You would have rather I wait for you forever while you never come back because you got yourself killed running into a situation you can’t get out of? You think I would have been any safer not knowing? Then clearly you haven’t been paying attention!” He’s shouting by the end of it, shaking with fear and rage and so many things it all becomes a tangled mess in his head.

“I really think we should have this conversation in the morning,” Duke says, eyeing Danny warily. It’s probably just because he’s been out all night hunting Karma, so used to being attacked while he goes out to try to save a city that even Batman couldn’t lift from the darkness, but that doesn’t stop the stab of hurt from going through his heart. Danny has done his best to be safe for Duke, to be human and comforting and strong enough to protect him.

And Duke is looking at him like he could be at threat.

“Whatever,” Danny mutters, shaking his head. “You’ll talk to me in the morning by saying nothing but how you need to do whatever this is and then you’ll leave and we’ll both be unhappy. Great. Can’t wait.”

“Danny—”

“Bye, Duke.”

Danny’s up and out of the apartment before Duke can take more than a few steps towards him. He zips up his jacket and pulls the hood over his head, taking the steps two at a time to get to street level. It’s dark and quiet outside, save for the distant police sirens, and Danny barely spares a glance around him before he’s making his own way home, sure that no one would still be out at that time.

He should have been more careful. More vigilant. Not so lost in his hurt feelings.

But there’s no time for that when he’s pulled into an alleyway, knife at his throat.

A man in a black helmet, face fully covered, stares down at him. “Well, well, well,” he purrs, digging the knife in a little deeper, “What’s the Signal’s little lover doing out so late at night?”

Signal?

…Duke. His boyfriend who always disappears in late hours, blows off dates when something big is going down in Gotham, who is trying to pick up the pieces following Batman’s death.

And here is Karma, the very man Duke is searching for, pulling Danny away into the dark.

He only has a brief moment to regret storming off, for not being more patient with Duke, for not paying attention and avoiding Karma, before the knife is pulled away, tossed into the air, and the hilt comes down hard on his temple, and it is a long, long time before he is seen again.

The Signal does not find him alive. . . .

Earth 53.

The apocalypse isn’t kind even on the best of days. But today it might be coming close to something resembling kindness as Duke approaches the skeletal remains of Gotham. It’s been years since he’s been back here, moving with the Robins across the United States just trying to survive. They’d constantly been moving, searching for other survivors and food and shelter and any sign of hope they could get.

There hadn’t been much anywhere, too much devastation across the country for anyone to even think of rebuilding. Even now, nature is just starting to recover, little green shoots pushing up through concrete rubble.

This world isn’t one for superheroes anymore. Supervillains aren’t around either. Everyone is either dead or barely getting themselves through each day; but humanity is still around and wildlife is beginning to recover.

Duke doesn’t know who’s left in Gotham these days. He suspects Oracle is still there, somewhere, helping reconnect telephone wires and setting up internet and electricity. Lights have been flickering on steadily as the Robins made their way into New Jersey and the sight lifted their spirits so much they decided to keep traveling through the night.

No one in his group has a working phone any more, but the possibility of getting that piece of the old world back excites them all.

By the time they reach the outskirts of the ruined city, the entire group is nearly buzzing with energy, speaking in hushes whispers that do nothing to hide the elation in their voices. Gotham was everyone’s home, once. They’re all happy to be back, regardless of what they’re walking into.

Duke volunteers to go scouting with a few others to find a good place to settle in for a bit as they reacquaint themselves with the city. Even before the end of the world, it was never a good idea to go blind into Gotham.

Much of the city is still abandoned, and concrete rubble carry faded graffiti that show the remains of a gang long gone. The few people he see in the distance are quick to hide and disappear and Duke himself is too wary to approach them. But as he gets closer to the heart of Gotham, picking his way through destroyed streets, he sees more and more signs of life, people who don’t hide, weak lights in hastily constructed shelters.

No one attacks him as he wanders closer. In fact, a few exchange nervous glances then approach him, quietly asking if he’s coming from outside Gotham and what news he brings of the outside world.

Duke tells them about how Chicago is gone completely, unable to be saved at all, but there are settlements all along the shores of the Great Lakes. He tells them of the traveling groups he’s met who rotate through a few chosen states and are willing to take in new members. He tells them of someone who has an entire farm up and running again, full of chickens and cows and sheep and goat and horses, on top of all the crop they can grow. The location of the farm is kept secret and carefully protected, but they give away seeds and young animals for anyone wanting to raise their own.

The news gathers more and more people around Duke, eager to listen, and they’re more than happy to update Duke on what’s happened in Gotham.

The Bats aren’t around as much anymore, but at least two of them are still in Gotham, helping people from the shadows. They’re fixing everything up as best they can, and most people live in or around Robinson Park where Ivy, who survived, grows food and shelter for everyone in exchange for protection and companionship. The Riddler turned from making death traps and taking hostages to creating new technology and inventions to make life a little easier, taking in a crew of assistants to learn from him.

That is to say nothing of the ghosts.

Gotham is full of them now, walking among the living as if they never died. They help people and stick with loved ones who lost them and fly through the air to deliver things with ease. It’s nothing that Duke has ever seen before, and he wonders how many people who died in the apocalypse chose to stay in such a ruined world.

He begins to head back to the Robins, mind racing with everything he’s learned, when he sees Danny.

Danny, his friend once, who he loved dearly and didn’t quite realize it was deeper than friendship until after the world ended. Danny, who was always sleepy and soft and smiling, cracking bad jokes and lifting Duke’s spirits whenever he felt down. Danny, who was lively and dreamed of going to space to sit among the stars.

Danny, who is dead.

He never got the chance to tell Danny he was the Signal, but he thinks Danny knew anyways. He could ask now, put that lingering thought to rest, but it was one of the few things left unsaid between them, the only thing he had of Danny for all these years, and he doesn’t want to let go of it yet.

Danny hasn’t seen him yet. Duke could go to him, speak to his ghost, have some part of him back in his life.

But it wouldn’t be the same. It certainly wouldn’t be fair to tie Danny, who is free from the pain and misery of the living, to Duke, who is never going to stay in Gotham permanently.

He misses Danny so much he feels hollowed out and empty, but he knows this is for the best.

Duke turns, pretending not to see him, and walks away. . . .

Earth 78.

Duke was…

Duke was important to him, Danny thinks. He can’t remember much, not after everything (electricity, screaming, pain pain pain, heavy darkness, a spark, hist chest cut open, where is ___? Why won’t he save—) but without any memory of what his life was like back then, his feelings are without context and easily ignored.

Wraith follows Shrike from a distance, watching as he drops into an alley to kill a rapist. Wraith feels nothing about this, for caring is not in his duties. He is instructed to simply keep Shrike alive and assist in his plans, whatever they may be. Wraith does not care about killing.

Danny, tucked away deep inside the mask, shivers and cries, wishing to hide away and say enough, please, that’s enough, just stop please stop stop stop stop—

Batman crosses the rooftops, a figure of darkness across the city’s skies. The Signal, his second oldest companion, travels through the shadows by his side until they land on the building Wraith stands on.

The yellow of Signal’s armor is familiar and it feels safe but Wraith knows better. Talia and Ra’s have taught him to see past his emotions, to force away any sentiment and grapple with the cold hard truth. This is the truth: they are here to hurt him and Shrike, because they are dangerous killers and dangerous killers are dealt with swiftly and painfully in Gotham.

They can do as they please to him. They will not take Shrike.

He engages Batman in battle first, easily slipping past his defense by going intangible, freezing his boots to the ground and icing his fists together. The Signal slips away at first, leaving Batman behind to try to get around Wraith, sending shadows towards Shrike who leaps away deftly, dodging them with ease as he leaves the beheaded body behind.

Wraith grabs Signal before he can fully sink into a shadow and tosses him back, then flies to Shrike, picking him up and getting them away as quickly as possible.

“They found us faster than I thought,” Shrike says. His voice carries something in it that Wraith doesn’t recognize, but it makes his heart feel heavy.

“We’re done for the night,” Wraith returns, voice low and hoarse. He died screaming and even the Lazarus Pits weren’t able to fix the damage done to his vocal chords.

He lets his invisibility wash over them both, and they disappear into the night. The safehouse they set up, far away from the one Talia prepared for them, is small but comfortable. It’s secure, everything created and coded by Tim, which means Danny can relax inside the walls of the small apartment.

Shrike helps him shed his gear, putting it away carefully. Wraith becomes Danny and he watches as Shrike becomes Tim.

Gone is the ruthless efficiency, the quickness to cut down the scum of Gotham without remorse. Instead, he’s pale and tired, eyes still a faint green from the linger remains of the Lazarus Pit that brought him back from the dead, but there is no madness in him. Only a coldness that came long before his death, unwanted by Damian, the first of Batman’s vigilante partners, who refused to see him as part of the family or even as a hero at all. Duke had already gone to work with other teams since then and never met Tim properly for more than a few minutes.

But he knew Danny. They must have been close. If seeing The Signal sends such a sharp stab of pain in his heart, it must be for a reason. But the memories are long gone, and with them, any desire to be close to him again.

They never do well after a run in with the Bats. Though they have won every fight they’ve had, Tim often retreats to bed in order to hide his tears and Danny is left alone, lost, and wishing he had stayed dead.

Tonight is no different. Tim is making a difference as Shrike, striking fear in the hearts of Gotham’s criminals. Crime has gone down in Crime Alley, his chosen territory of the city, killing as many people as needed before they finally get the message to be better people. Tim is also still only eighteen and had spent three years with the League of Assassins before returning to Gotham and seeing that his place in the Bats is erased and forgotten and replaced by the well-loved Jason.

He only stays in Gotham to kill the people who sold him off to the Joker and laughed as he died slowly and painfully. Once the Joker is dead, he’ll leave Gotham and disappear for good.

Danny will follow him. He has no life now and no other direction. And with Tim hiding under the covers, Danny can do nothing but feel his own skin crawl at the need to get away from everything that connects him to his life Before.

It’s a terrible idea, but he goes out again, heading into Otisberg, where he once lived. Only a raised hood conceals his face; the expressionless mask he usually wears is gone, and Wraith feels far away from him.

He hears the Signal land behind him some time later. It could be minutes or hours; time slips by Danny easily these days no matter how hard he tries to hold onto the minutes passing by.

“Wraith,” Signal says, and his voice is hard. “Where’s Shrike? Out terrorizing the rest of Gotham?”

Danny doesn’t reply. He stares out into the city lights, a cold emptiness growing inside his chest.

“Well, if you’re going to just sit there, then I suppose you don’t mind if I take you in to let Batman interrogate you. You’ve been causing a lot of trouble around here, and we don’t take kindly to murderous masks in Gotham.”

He doesn't resist as Signal grabs his wrists, hauling him up from where he was sitting on the ledge. Danny allows Signal to turn him around, shadows binding his wrists together and pulling down his hood.

The Signal sucks in a sharp breath, hands falling limp to his side. “Danny?”

Danny doesn’t respond.

“This better not be a joke, I swear to God. If you’re just wearing his face to fuck with me, I’m going to kill you, Batman’s rules be damned. Say something already!”

Danny looks up into the visor of Signal’s helmet. He opens his mouth and a hoarse whine slips out. “I knew you,” he manages to whispers. “I knew you. And then I died.”

The Signal flinches, then reaches up and pulls his helmet off. “Tell me something only we would know. Anything.”

“I don’t… remember. I wanted you to save me. I don’t think you did.”

“If this isn’t really you, Danny,” Duke says, voice thick with tears, “Then it’s a really fucked up joke.”

Danny looks at Duke, helpless. He doesn’t know what to do. What to say. Wraith only knows how to follow and protect and take orders. Danny doesn’t know how to live anymore. There is nothing he can do.

And then, as he stares as Duke, a memory slides into place, fuzzy but there.

“Arcade on eighth street,” he whispers, and Duke’s eyes go wide. “That was going to be our first date.”

“It was,” Duke says. There’s a light in his eyes now, something that looks like hope and the sight of it makes Danny sick to his stomach.

“I’m dead, Duke. Danny is dead. There is only Wraith now. Let the dead go, and stay away so we don’t have to kill you. I… want you to live.”

The shadows have loosened, still wrapped around his wrists but as a caress instead of a restraint. It doesn’t take any strength to pull out of them and drop off the roof, falling towards the ground. Danny lets gravity take hold of him for a few moments, then goes invisible and flies away just as Duke grapples down and searches for him desperately.

He can hear Duke calling his name, then calling in Batman and Nightwing, but his voice fades away before Danny can make out what they’re saying.

Not that it matters. Whether tomorrow or further down the line, he and Tim will leave Gotham and disappear for good.

The dead cannot stay with the living, and so they will go.

There’s nothing left for them here, anyways. . . .

Earth 0.

Duke has had his fair share of strange dreams. It comes with the trauma and the powers, a terrible mix that leave him shaken and rattled when he wakes up, gasping for breath.

But instead of fear, his latest series of dreams leave him with a deep-seated feeling of grief. The details fade away quickly once he’s awake, but he can remember bits and pieces of worlds that looks so different from the one he lives in, and all of them have a single constant: Danny.

Danny, whose face he never remembers when he wakes. Danny, whose name is permanently etched into his mind. Danny, who he loves and loses every single night.

Danny, someone he’s never met.

Dick asks him if he’s alright the next time he’s in Gotham, eating breakfast in the manor with him and Tim. He considers lying, then tells him about the dreams and how frequent they are, snapshots of other lives where there is someone important to him that he can never save. Tim, who he thought was sleeping with his eyes half open, looks up and mumbles that it might be another universe.

After a few cups of coffee, Tim is awake enough to ramble on about the multiverse, pulling up reports from the Batcomputer on his phone to show Duke how many of them have had run ins with alternate universes.

“So you’re saying that Danny might be here? In this world?”

Tim shrugs. “Well, maybe. If he’s the only constant, then I wouldn’t be surprised. If you’re here, so is he.”

“But he always dies!”

“Don’t worry, Duke,” Dick says, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, “If you do find him, then you’ve got all of his to help keep him safe.”

“Do you want me to find him? If you give me a description, I can probably narrow it down to a few people in the United States. One of them might be him.”

Duke considers it for a moment, then shakes his head. “Nah, thanks though. If we’re supposed to meet, then we will. No point in rushing it.”

“Alright. Let me know if you change your mind.”

And that had been that. Nothing to really worry about, but the dreams continue and Duke keeps waking up grieving and so love with Danny, carrying the feelings of his alternates over to his own reality. At some point, he wishes that he and Danny would never cross paths in this world, if only so he doesn’t have to lose him.

But he wants to meet him. The universe says Danny is important to him; why else would he be part of his life in every world?

The thought never leaves him. It’s always in the back of his mind as he goes about his life, going to school and fighting crime. He finds himself lingering in the streets, trying to see everyone’s faces, listening for that familiar voice.

It takes over a year before he hears someone say, “Danny!” as he’s patrolling as Signal.

He bends the light around him, going invisible, and searches for the people shouting the name of the person he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind. It takes some time, but his eyes land on a tall, red haired woman fussing over a boy with black hair and blue eyes, leaning down some so she could reach his face.

He can’t hear what they say with the distance between them, but he knows with absolute clarity that he’s looking at Danny.

His Danny.

Duke takes a step forward, ready to drop his invisibility, letting the light escape his grasp, the pauses when he sees the bright smile on his face.

This Danny is safe. He is alive and laughing and is with someone he cares about.

This Danny has a life and a future and as much as Duke wants to know why his alternate selves love Danny so much, it isn’t worth Danny’s life.

Heart breaking, Duke steps back and watches as they walk away, disappearing into the crowded streets.

He stares after them long after they’ve disappeared from sight, then grapples to a rooftop and releases his hold on the light. He sinks to his knees, trying to breathe through the grief that runs through him, and taps a pattern into his comms to signal that he’s ending his patrol early.

It’s fine, he tells himself. This is for the best. This will keep Danny alive.

Danny always dies because of Duke. Someway, somehow, whenever they meet, the bell tolls and Danny’s death quickly approaches. It happens in every world, in the many, many dreams he’s had looking into a moment of their lives.

But not this one.

In this one, Duke will save Danny by doing the only thing he can: making sure they never meet.

It’s for the best. It has to be. . . .

[send me ghostlights prompts!]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #this was sooo fun to write i love multiverses and reincarnation and things like that #dont know much abt dc multiverses so i looked them up and did numbers that werent listed in the wiki #in order its:#steampunk. karma kills batman au. post apoc. reverse robins. and then canon #hope you enjoy!! i really enjoyed writing this and the reverse robins one has my mind spinning with ideas #thank you for the prompt!!

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vinelark · 2 years

Text

khoa & tim fake uncle postfic

because i’m thinking about tim’s fake uncle again and because i’m also thinking about ghostbat: au (loosely inspired by this) set during tim’s early robin era where tim does a version of the Fake Uncle thing, which coincides with minhkhoa khan sneaking into town to spy on bruce.

the thing is, khoa has been off the grid for a while and just learned about jason--both that bruce got another kid, and that said kid had a fatal run-in with the joker. bruce had told khoa to stay out of gotham years ago, but khoa isn’t about to let that stop him once he catches up on the news and pieces together bruce’s grief spiral that only recent calmed down with the appearance of a new robin. a new robin who is, conveniently, posting a veiled job offer for an? uncle?? on the internet, and doing it entirely on his own.

so khoa fashions himself a fake struggling-but-not-too-struggling actor identity and lands himself the position of tim drake's uncle. it’s a perfect way to peek at bruce’s life while flying under the radar, because this tim kid is very eager to keep his fake uncle as separate from bruce as possible. khoa expects to be in and out of this job in a month, maybe two, as soon as he’s sure bruce is stable and not going to crumble because bruce cares so much and khoa knows it’ll be his undoing one day and—anyway. it’s a temporary gig. the kid’ll have to come up with a cover story when khoa inevitably disappears, but that’s not khoa’s problem. and tim probably shouldn’t be making up fake relatives anyway, so khoa will be teaching him a valuable lesson. (the lesson: always make sure you have collateral on someone before trusting them. you’re welcome for the parenting help, bruce!)

except. it’s not so easy to leave.

after just two weeks khoa starts realizing that:

tim is bonkers

like, off the wall bonkers

and brilliant

bad combo, khoa knows from experience

tim desperately cares about bruce and dick and alfred

but does not see himself as part of the family (hence the fake uncle thing)

khoa also realizes that tim keeps secretly patching himself up at home (because he’s downplaying any injuries after patrols) and eventually khoa is like. “okay. i don’t care what happened*, but you do have to stitch that up properly. my fake self can’t be in trouble for child endangerment.” and he patches up a surprised and wary tim. this becomes a routine.

*(khoa knows what happened, he was stalking batman on patrol that night. like most nights.)

ANYWAY. basically what i’m saying is: identity shenanigans where bruce’s ex is lurking around gotham pretending to be tim’s uncle and tim doesn’t know about the ex thing and bruce doesn’t know about the uncle being fake thing and everyone is keeping secrets from each other. and khoa goes from “this is a convenient way to spy on bruce” to “if anything happens to this unhinged baby robin i will kill everyone in this room and then myself” and ends up co-parenting tim without bruce realizing.

also in between having concerning realizations about tim’s self-preservation skills and spying on bruce, khoa finds time to have fun with it. like imagine a parent-teacher conference at tim’s school. the school calls bruce to schedule because his contact info is still on file from when tim was staying with him. but obviously khoa catches wind of this and decides to also turn up, in full uncle disguise, and spends the whole time fucking with bruce and having a blast.

like bruce was kind of checked out last year when the conferences happened and now he’s starting to claw out of his grief enough to be present and engaged. especially now that tim is staying with his “uncle” bruce is like wait. wait. and is trying to make more of an effort, so he shows up to the conference. and then at the conference khoa is just lounging in his chair like, “tim fell asleep in class? good for him, i’ve been telling him to get more sleep” and bruce is trying to be Even Better Dad to compensate while his eye is just constantly twitching.

[parent-teacher conference shenanigans with contributions from @cairoscene, @90kon, & @mammutblog:]

teacher: i won't sugar coat it, tim is very nearly failing literature

khoa: ah. a ridiculous subject anyway.

teacher: i notice tim is very... isolated. he doesn't seem to engage much with his peers, even when they try to initiate conversations with him

khoa: well children are idiots, i don't blame him

teacher: tim got in a fight—

khoa: did he win?

khoa: oh tim’s getting an A in science? we should celebrate. i’ll take him to get ice cream for dinner. we usually do that anyway but this time he can have extra sprinkles

bruce: that’s not— [deep breath] in my experience tim has trouble remembering to eat a balanced diet when left to his own devices, which is important to his growth at this age.

khoa: yeah of course. that’s why sometimes we get frozen yogurt instead

bruce: tim is lactose intolerant

khoa: [pulls out a packet of lactaid] i know

anyway!! after a bunch of shenanigans and awkward actually-taking-care-of-tim moments, something big happens where bruce and tim are in deep trouble and khoa breaks cover to burst in and rescue both batman & robin and all secrets come out. tim is shocked that he didn’t figure out who khoa was (in tim’s defense, he’s had a Lot going on) and bruce is soooo mad he didn’t see through the disguise, but also bruce is. grateful. that khoa has been there for tim, especially when khoa finally gets to do a full “get your head out of your ass” rant about the various ways tim has been pretending to be way more okay than he is.

khoa: if you’re going to CARE about people so much the least you can do is! pay attention to them!! this kid is your problem, act like it!

bruce: sounds like he might be Our problem now

khoa: only because i don’t trust you to get the job done 😤

(ALSO because khoa is literally there to lurk and observe he notices the league slipping into gotham and they end up rescuing a resurrected jason early.)

anyway i just think the concept of khoa being tim’s deus ex machina adult is so fun. like tim is on some international mission with young justice and it seems like all hope is lost and then freaking ghost-maker swans in and takes out all the enemies and gives tim a whole rant about How Is Bruce Letting You Run Around Like This, Does He Know What You’re Getting Up To In Your Spare Time, Where Even Is He. the vibe is ghost-maker dropping a (carefully patched up) robin on wayne manor doorstep with a sticky note on tim’s forehead reading TAKE BETTER CARE OF YOUR THINGS.

(bonus au of this au from aubrey where bruce DOES see through khoa’s disguise:

Tim: Bruce, this is my uncle--

Bruce: ANTON?!

Khoa: 😘

Tim: oh my god DID YOU FUCK MY FAKE UNCLE, BRUCE?)

also please look at this khoa and tim art again for the vibes

#sorry this is so messy but i just keep rotating it in my head and having so much fun #minhkhoa khan #tim drake #ghostbat #ghost-maker #originally posted on twitter but i expanded it a bit!#postfic #this au lives in my mind rent free. the tim pangs. the khoa being sooo normal and spying on bruce shenanigans. the slow healing. etc etc #literally just. khoa: unlike bruce i don’t have weaknesses like CARING about these kids #tim: thank you for being my fake uncle. your job description is to literally not care about me #khoa: well—

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andypantsx3 · 1 year

Text

Deceiving the Duke | 9 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 4.1k of 30k words | 9th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

You couldn’t think of a thing to say during the carriage ride, pretending to look out over streets glowing in the newly-risen sun. But you kept sneaking glances back at Lord Shouto, only to find him watching you contemplatively, his handsome face unreadable to you.

You wondered what he truly thought of you. If he had known this entire time you were only pretending to be Camie–why had he let you go through with it? Why had he kissed you last night, even?

You could almost think he had been trying to entrap you in turn, except that you knew him to be too good for that.

So why had he let you go on?

You stiffened as the palace came into view, a huge, imposing structure with immaculately whitewashed walls, rising several stories above the ground. An enormous wrought iron gate let into the grounds, down a short drive fringed pink-blossomed trees, which finally led onto a cobblestoned concourse which looked like it had never seen a speck of dirt.

Guards in the Yaoyorozu livery were stationed all along the palace’s face, their sabers resting conspicuously at their sides.

You felt your fingers tighten in the fabric of your dress.

Lord Shouto jumped down from the carriage as soon as it stopped, and reached out a hand for you again. You considered whether you should avoid it–you were not a lady, and you were now in the presence of hundreds of people who would see him do so. Before you could brace yourself to jump down on your own, however, Lord Shouto’s hands found your waist. Your stomach swooped as he lifted you out of the carriage entirely, placing you on the ground as though you were no heavier than a child.

Your knees felt suddenly weak, and you focused on getting your feet properly back under you. You did not dare grip his sleeve for support.

“Come with me,” Lord Shouto said, his low voice gentle in the morning air.

He offered his arm—as though you were a lady again!–and looked at you expectantly.

“My lord, I do not think you should treat me as such,” you said quietly, as a footman scurried out the entrance of the palace towards you.

Lord Shouto’s eyes picked over you, his head tilting. “There should be no object. You’ve already embroiled me in scandal enough, do you not think?” he said.

Your stomach turned over, but the tiniest quirk at the corner of his mouth told you he meant it in jest. Still–

“Your Grace, the princess will receive you in her sitting room,” the footman said, puffing as he approached.

“Thank you,” Lord Shouto said. Then he reached out and quite determinedly took your hand, pulling your arm carefully through his. He ignored the footman’s wide-eyed look, and gently tugged you along after him.

You were too stunned to say anything, your tongue feeling as though it had tied itself in a knot. The feeling only worsened as you were led deeper into the palace, down a long hall and through a series of intricately brocaded and muraled rooms with echoing marble floors. Eventually you emerged into a room painted a cheery yellow, with sunny rows of windows and several ornately patterned sitting benches.

Your heart stopped.

On the nearest sofa sat a gorgeous woman, with fair skin and raven-black hair, upon which rested a small silvery tiara. The Princess Momo Yaoyorozu herself.

Quickly abandoning Shouto, you dropped into the lowest curtsy you could manage, feeling your knees wobble underneath you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Shouto swept the most absolutely cursory bow you’d ever seen in your life. You started, appalled by the slight.

What was he doing?

But the princess looked deeply unruffled, smiling as she rose from the sofa.

“Shouto,” she said, happily.

And then she rounded the table and embraced him.

“Momo,” Lord Shouto said in return. “It is good to see you in good health.”

You stared, aware that your mouth had dropped open, but completely unable to close it. So they–were a couple? But then you noticed the slight woman at the princess’s shoulder, who also reached out and embraced Lord Shouto.

“Jirou,” he said.

Jirou colored pink and cuffed the back of his head lightly. “Next time I’d ask you to consider causing a scene like this later in the day.”

Lord Shouto’s face went carefully blank, the very picture of innocence. “I know not what you mean.”

Jirou looked unfazed. “I’m sure.”

Just then, the princess’s gaze wandered to you, her eyes dark and fathomless and intimidatingly pretty. You froze under her sudden attention. “This must be your Miss Not-Quite-Utsushimi,” she said.

Your stomach lurched. She knew. The princess already knew what you had done.

Was this it, then? The moment of reckoning? What Shouto had brought you here for, to see that royal justice was done unto you?

But the princess just smiled, and gestured to a bench opposite the sofa. “Please, sit.”

You almost sat down reflexively right on the floor. Thankfully, Lord Shouto took your elbow and gently guided you to the chair, taking the place next to you. You tried very hard not to notice the way his strong thigh pressed against your skirts.

“Now then, Shouto tells me you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of trouble. I’d like to hear it from you, if you don’t mind,” Princess Momo said as she settled back into her seat.

You could barely think straight. It was like every thought you’d ever had suddenly gathered in your mouth, all clamoring to burst forth. You tripped over your own words, barely managing coherence.

“Your Highness–it’s not. I mean, it’s not my trouble, it’s Lord Shouto’s. I’ve gone and involved him in a way I did not mean, and he desperately needs to call off the marriage. It’s entrapment! He was caught with me, and I’m not Camie–his reputation—my fault, I mean–”

Lord Shouto’s gloved hand found your thigh, and you jumped.

His mouth drew close to your ear. “Breathe, Y/N.”

It was the first time you’d ever heard him use your name, and the sound went through you like a lance. You only just managed to clamp down on what might have been a horrible little whimper, your fingers clenching in your skirts for something to ground you.

“It’s as I described in my letters, Momo,” Lord Shouto said, turning back to the princess.

She ignored him, her gaze picking over you. “You mean you meant to entrap His Grace?” she asked.

“No!” you yelped, leaning forwards desperately. “No, please. You must ask him to call it off!”

She tilted her head and waited, as if for more of an explanation.

You blew out a nervous breath, trying to find the words to explain. “I am a–I was a maid, Your Highness. I have worked for the Utsushimi family for years. Just days before the season, Camie Utsushimi eloped with Lord Inasa Yoarashi, leaving her elder sister Caroline the consequences of the scandal. Mrs. Utsushimi–that is, it was decided that I should pretend to be Camie long enough for Miss Caroline to make a match.”

The princess’s eyebrows raised.

“I did not expect that I should–-that I should find someone as good and kind as Lord Shouto. I have no excuses for participating in and continuing the charade.”

You did not know how to continue. You let the words sit there in heavy silence.

“And what would you want now?” The princess finally asked. “Now that you’re to be revealed as a servant?”

You ducked your head. “I want only that Lord Shouto distance himself quickly.”

“And you?” Princess Momo asked.

You did not dare ask that she let you flee into the countryside as you so desperately hoped. It was the height of folly to think that you would be let off with no punishment. God, however had you thought you could have pulled this scheme off? What absolute madness had possessed you to go along with it?

“Whatever Your Highness thinks is suitable penalty,” you said, unable to look into her face.

“Why did you do it?” The princess asked, as Lord Shouto had.

You answered as you had then. “For money, Your Highness.”

Lord Shouto leaned forward. “For her family, Momo. She sends a wage.”

Your skin prickled, hoping that this admission would not make targets out of your parents too.

“And your parents know of this scheme?” she asked.

You panicked, getting to your feet. “No! Your Highness, please, I have not told them–”

“Momo, I’ll thank you not to scare my intended,” Lord Shouto intoned from your side. You realized he’d also risen. He took your arm, tugging you gently back down. “Nothing will happen to your family, Y/N,” he said.

Your pulse pounded under his grip. You tried to focus on how gentle and warm his touch was, as little as you deserved it.

Fuck. Fuck, just what had you gotten yourself into?

“You are lucky,” Princess Momo said finally, “That Shouto thinks this is all very funny.”

You froze, glancing up at her. He–he thought this was–what?

“He’s been writing me these past months, telling me of you. I did not like the idea of it, but Shouto tells me you are…good. That you did not mean to draw anyone’s notice, and that you have very consistently resisted his advances,” the princess said.

Your memory flashed to the feeling of his mouth on you last night. You had not really resisted his advances consistently enough. If only she knew how inappropriately you had reveled in them.

“I see that you are much like what he says,” the princess said, and you heard a kind of unexpected softening of her tone.

You did not know what to say.

“I brought you here to see for myself. And I am…satisfied,” she said. “Though, I will always watch out for him as he has watched out for me since the War for All.”

The knot of tension in your chest uncoiled a little. But surely, she could not mean that she meant to let an infringement of this nature go unpunished?

“Your Highness, I am afraid I do not understand,” you said.

Lord Shouto’s hand found the side of your thigh again, and he pressed those long fingers against you. “She means that she will insist on keeping an eye on you, once we are married,” he said.

Your head snapped towards him, and you gaped. He watched you back, those mismatched eyes glittering in a way that you found so very horribly familiar.

“Married?” you echoed incredulously. “My lord–I am not–you cannot–what?”

Shouto ducked his head to look into your face more closely. “Then you will not have me?”

You sputtered. “Have you? Me, have you? My lord, really, are you unwell? We’ve just established, I am not Camie Utsushimi!”

“I’m well aware…Y/N.” Lord Shouto said, his tone dropping terribly low. A little shiver went up your spine.

“And as you are now well aware, I have known for some time,” he continued. “I knew from the beginning. And I certainly knew when I kissed you last night.”

The shiver became a full body shudder. “Lord Shouto–it doesn’t make sense…”

“He never does,” Jirou piped up helpfully from the princess’s side. “He’s been strange since birth, according to Momo.”

Shouto’s features went intentionally deadpan again, as though he could not countenance such a claim. You couldn’t help the grin that pulled at your mouth.

“He liked when you threw the apricot cake at him,” the princess supplied. “Wrote about it in great detail in his first letter about you. He also waxed poetic about your inability to speak any Greek, as though that were a great accomplishment of yours.”

Your ears went hot. “You did not,” you said.

Shouto had the grace to look the tiniest bit abashed. “Thank you, Momo,” he said, with absolutely no inflection to his tone whatsoever.

You were overcome by a wave of helpless affection for him. “Lord Shouto, I’m still afraid it isn’t done…much as I should–much as your affections are more than reciprocated. I–I’m afraid the scandal–”

“Will not bother me,” Shouto said.

You waved your arm helplessly. “My lord–”

“If it helps,” Princess Momo said. “At Shouto’s behest, I’ve found a little barren plot of land and a just-barely noble title that might be granted to you, in order to facilitate a proper marriage. I…owed him a favor, for services rendered in the War for All. That is, if you will agree to have him.”

Shouto looked back at you, looking a little bit smug for managing to have pulled all this together.

“I’ve procured a special license weeks ago. And I have also written Lord Inasa, and your Camie,” he said. “As it happens, I know Lord Inasa well enough. They will attest to having known of your status, and to having attended the wedding. Your friends Miss Uraraka and Lady Asui have also agreed, provided that you apologize to them in person.”

“As will Jirou and I,” Princess Momo said. “Which should be enough to get half the ton pretending that they were there.”

“Miss Caroline and Mr. Awase, should they care to continue their engagement, should also be told. There should be no impropriety in the match, then,” Shouto said. “Although there will still be talk of your impersonating Camie.”

You could not believe it.

It all sounded so unreal–that you, simply by agreeing now, could become Shouto’s wife.

Horrible, hot little tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Shouto pointed out, though his tone was gentle. “Let those be the last secrets we keep from one another.”

A wave of emotion crashed over you, and it was only the princess’s presence that kept you from throwing yourself at Shouto.

It was real. He was really real, and he truly wanted you.

“Yes,” you said, watching him closely. “If you will really have me, then yes. It would be improper of me, I think, to admit how much I…how much I love you. But I have been driven mad with it, Shouto. I love you.”

A blindingly handsome smile lit up Shouto’s face, and he’d pulled you to him before you realized he’d even moved. He had you up and out of the seat in the blink of an eye, and he swept another barely-courteous bow in Princess Momo’s direction–one that you realized was born of years of friendship, rather than any disrespect.

“You understand we must take our leave of you,” Shouto said.

Princess Momo bit her pretty lip as though fighting down a laugh. “Indeed. Though I will expect you both back for tea the week after next. I still have questions.”

“I'm afraid I have a honeymoon planned,” Shouto said. He leaned down to you and said in conspiratorial tones. “I think perhaps some Greek ruins might be in order.”

You groaned out a laugh. “Shouto…”

Princess Momo waved you off, disinterested. “Then write, please. I am pleased to see you finally happy, Shouto.”

“I am,” Shouto said seriously. He pulled you towards the door in a bout of sudden impatience. “Thank you, Momo.”

She waved again, and then you were through the door, a footman collecting you and leading you back out of the palace.

Your head was spinning with a rush of emotion, and your heart beat a staccato of disbelief in your chest. Shouto helped you back into the carriage, a fond little grin on the corner of his mouth.

“You really mean it, Y/N?” he asked as he followed you in, taking up the seat next to you rather than opposite. You soaked in the delicious warmth of him alongside you, something you had been sure just fifteen minutes ago that you might never feel again. “Be honest with me.”

You nodded, looking up into his handsome face. “I promise to always be honest with you from this point on.”

Another smile twitched at the corner of Shouto’s mouth, a wry, mischievous little thing. “Good,” he said, his voice dropping low. “As I plan to make an honest wife out of you now, love.”

You shivered again, and Shouto drank it in with far too much satisfaction.

But then he leaned in, smiling, and kissed you.

Over the carriage ride, you spoke very little–far too occupied with one another to manage much conversation–but Shouto did convey that your wedding would be a secret affair, first thing in the morning, under the eye of the Archbishop who was closely aligned with the Yaoyorozu family, and excellent at keeping secrets.

Which left you with the entire afternoon—an afternoon you planned to spend wisely.

When you arrived back at his lodgings, an attempt was made to feed you and offer you a room of your own–so that things might be proper. But you hadn’t done any of this properly in the slightest, and you didn’t plan to start now.

In only a matter of minutes, you had both stumbled into Shouto’s bedroom, an elegantly-appointed suite that you would have to inspect more closely later, when you weren’t so preoccupied with what his mouth was doing just above the neckline of your dress.

“Shouto, you’ll tear it,” you said, as he tugged at the higher, more conservative collar of your servant’s garb.

“Good,” Shouto intoned in his low voice, his mouth still pressed to the line of your neck in a way that reminded you of the masquerade last night. “You’ll never need it again.”

His fingers tugged harder, and he murmured quietly, “Once I have this off you, you’ll never dress as a maid again.”

The thought made you dizzy, and you grasped his shoulder for stability, which only gave him better purchase to tug your dress down the other arm. Soon he’d gotten you down to your stays and stockings, and the appreciative groan he made as he looked you over sent little shivers over your skin.

He walked you back to his bed, layering kisses everywhere–over your face, your chest, your arms, any part of you he could reach.

“You’ll stop me, if you want to?” he asked, mismatched eyes flicking up to yours.

“I don’t want to,” you told him, reaching out to grasp his coat, pulling him down to the bed with you. His warm, hard body against you dredged up the memory of last night–all those straining feet of him pressing you against the wall, that feeling that had built up within you as he touched you through your skirts. “I could have screamed when they found us last night.”

Shouto’s face dropped into the crook of your neck, and he left a stinging bite on your shoulder. “I almost challenged Mr. Awase to a duel there and then. All good sense had left me.”

You knew the feeling–all good sense had left you quite presently, replaced with the burning desire to have him over you, pressing all along you, weighing you down into the mattress and finishing what you’d started on the assembly room balcony.

“Shouto, please. I want–I need–”

Shouto didn’t let you finish, sealing his mouth over yours. His fingers busied themselves with the laces of your stays, and it was only a matter of minutes until he had you bare to him entirely.

“Perfect,” he said, in a tone so low you could feel it in your bones. His fingers pressed between your thighs, and your gasp echoed in the early morning quiet. “You are perfect.”

You rather thought he was perfect, as you finally managed to push his coat off of him and tore at the buttons of his shirt. Underneath he was all hard muscle and smooth skin, and you found yourself struck dumb by the way his abs flexed, the way his waist tapered into the line of his breeches.

He was even more perfectly carved than those blasted Greek sculptures, and you surged up to kiss him again. His fingers found their way back between your thighs, and you threw your arms over his shoulders, clinging to him as he worked you up to the peak he’d brought you to last night.

It felt like you had no control over yourself as you writhed against his hand, your mouth desperately seeking his to quiet the noises you wanted to make.

Shouto’s touch was maddening, every twist of his fingers smooth and deft, and his thumb worked your clit so gently you wanted to scream. It was too much, and yet not enough, and yet everything you’d ever wanted—

“Please, Shouto,” you begged. “Please, please.”

“Please what, love?” he asked, smiling down at you. But you could tell he knew what you wanted, and that he wanted it too, if the hard press of him against your thigh was any measure.

“Shouto, if you don't take me in the next few moments, I swear there will be an entire hailstorm of apricot cakes with your name on them–!” you threatened, but Shouto was laughing and pressing into you before you could finish, and you cut off on another gasp, clutching him for dear life.

The stretch of him inside you was sharp, and unfamiliar, and a little uncomfortable at first. But he seemed to know what he was doing, teasing your clit and layering hot, biting kisses all over you, until you didn’t know what to focus on–until he was fully inside you.

He kissed you utterly stupid while he let you adjust, his hands everywhere, distracting you. He murmured sweet things, how beautiful you were, how lovely, how perfect for him. By the time he finally moved you were a shivery puddle of praise and feeling, and the slide of him was so suddenly good you couldn’t even think straight.

“I knew you were my match the minute you first spoke to me,” he bit at out as his hips worked against you. “I knew I would love you.”

You bit back an embarrassing noise as Shouto’s pace grew faster and unmeasured. “I–Shouto–love you–” you managed. Shouto’s hips jerked in response, and he grasped your thighs, pulling you even harder into him. You couldn’t hold back a moan as he hit deeper within you and the new angle had you shuddering uncontrollably. He huffed a harsh breath against your throat, similarly affected, his fingers digging into you thigh.

After that, it was only a matter of minutes. Everything about him seemed calculated to drive you over the edge–the feeling of him hot and hard inside you, the sight of his abs tightening and flexing between your thighs, his fingers and his mouth all over you. The flush of effort on his cheekbones looked so good on him that you could barely believe he was real.

Everything–absolutely everything about him drove you right to the edge of madness, and then another hard thrust from him sent you right over it.

You cried out his name, trapped underneath him as you rode out your pleasure. And it seemed to hit Shouto too–his eyes widened as he watched you, and he bit out a curse you’d never heard from him before. His hips stuttered, frantically bucking into you as if he had no control, and a warmth flooded inside you.

Shouto breathed out a shaky breath and relaxed over you, the sticky, hot weight of him pinning you underneath him.

“I love you,” was all you could think to tell him, your mind still fuzzy with pleasure. “I love you.”

Shouto’s mouth curved into another wry little grin, and he smiled down at you, those mismatched eyes glinting.

“I see I did make an honest woman of you, then,” he said, sounding a little too pleased with himself.

You kissed him to shut him up, and pulled him closer–unable to deny that he had. You couldn’t think of anything you wanted than to give him your whole heart, bare and honest and real, for the rest of your lifetime together.

There would be no deceiving the duke–-not anymore.

Especially if, after you’d caught your breath, you could convince him to make an honest woman of you yet again.

And hopefully, again and again and again.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #IT'S DONE!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉#Thank you guys for reading I literally have had sooo much fun!!#love u!!!!!!!!

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