#tim: i never said we weren’t doing it. i just reserve the right to tell you i told you so when it inevitably goes wrong

[hailsatanacab]

"Well, this is a bad idea," Tim says, hands on his hips as he surveys the mess they’ve made in the cave.

"Nah," Danny replies, twirling his screwdriver in the air in what is probably meant to be an impressive trick to inspire confidence, except he fumbles it and it clangs to the floor loudly, "we good. If a younger version of myself hasn't come forward in time to stop me, how bad can it be?"

"Shouldn't it be the other way round?"

"What?"

"Normally, it's an older version of yourself going backwards in time to stop you, right?"

"Not in my experience."

Danny's grin is impossibly feral and a shiver runs up Tim's spine.

"This is definitely a bad idea."

[butwhyduh]

Dead Clown 🤡

Jason todd x reader

Warning: smut, murder but it’s okay.

Jason pulled his helmet off and ignored the rain that poured down his face. He had to see this without a filter. He even considered taking off the domino mask but he was out in the open. The pouring freezing rain had him shivering but Jason was unaware. He literally couldn’t believe the sight before him.

The joker was laying in his back, the pasty skin on his forehead was marred by 2 small holes. The back of his stupid green hair looked almost black when mixed with blood. Blood and water mixed in a pink puddle around his head. Jason forced himself to check for a pulse before hitting his comms.

“Bats, you need to get down here,” he said in a shocked voice. “The joker is dead.”

“..... are you okay,” Bruce said in a measured voice.

“I’m fine. He was dead when I got here,” Jason added knowing he was number one suspect.

“On the way.”

Batman and Red Robin showed up shortly with Robin not far behind. It didn’t take long for the detectives to believe Jason’s innocence. The evidence didn’t match him.

Jason sat on a piece of concrete near the scene as they worked. He had hoped to see this for years now. But it wasn’t the same. Maybe it was because Jason didn’t get his revenge or because it looked too neat. Two quick shots to the brain. Probably didn’t even see it coming before he was lights out.

Bruce walked over to him as the other two took photos and bagged evidence. A little blood here. Some fabric fibers there. No fingerprints because of the heavy rain but a bullet casing.

“Did you see who shot him?”

“No B. I literally got here and he was already out. He was supposed to have a drug drop but I guess that didn’t happen,” Jason said with a shrug.

“You were going to fight him alone,”Bruce said with a raised brow.

“No. Just reconnaissance. I would have called it in,” Jason defended himself. Bruce gave him a side look before moving on to the case.

“Commissioner Gordon is on the way,” Tim said. He held bags of evidence carefully in his lanky fingers. “We’re finish collecting-“

“Can we go home, father? It’s freezing cold,” Damian interrupted. Bruce sighed before looking at him.

“Red Robin was talking but yes, you both should back to the cave to process everything. Red Hood, you too. The commissioner knows you have a history with the joker so it’s best you leave too. I’ll take care of this,” Bruce said carefully. Any wrong word might set Jason off with his trauma over the death of his murderer.

“Uh yeah, sure man,” Jason said clearly distracted. He would usually argue with everything Bruce said and this made Bruce even more worried for the young man. He sent a quick message to Dick before the commission met got there.

——————————

“We’re running the tests right now and there really isn’t much else to do. Robin already went to bed. Go home Hood and get some sleep,” Tim said by the computers. Jason hadn’t bothered to get out of his suit or shower.

“How long? How long until you get results?”

“Oh, uhhh maybe 12 hours? A while. Sorry DNA testing isn’t like in the movies. The meta or clone tests are even longer. It probably won’t be until tomorrow night that we know anything,” Tim said turning in his chair. “Get some sleep.”

Jason considered giving him a nasty comment but held it. He certainly felt dead on his feet and had a nice warm woman waiting at home for him.

“Call when you know anything,” he said with a growl.

“Yeesh, yeah. I will,” Tim said backing away. “Say it. Don’t spray it,” he muttered as Jason walked away.

———————————

Jason trudged into the apartment leaving wet clothing in his wake until he stumbled to bed in nothing but his boxer briefs. You were going to be mad at him for the mess in the morning but that could wait. He looked at you asleep on the bed. You looked so sweet and innocent. Like an angel compared to his dirty hands that practically dripped blood every night.

He slid under the blanket and pressed close to your warm form. You gasped awake before relaxing when you realized it was just Jason. Did you not realize he could kill you 84 different ways in your sleep? It didn’t really matter as you snuggled your head into the crook of his neck and slid your legs to entangle with his. Jason’s arms automatically wrapped around you and rubbed your back until your breathing was even in sleep. He stared at the ceiling until the hint of dusk could be seen outside.

Jason woke with a gasp followed by a moan as he felt perfect wet heat encompass his dick. He looked down to see the blankets move rhythmically as you slid your mouth along his dick. He blinked himself more awake to truly enjoy it.

It wasn’t the first time you had woken him as such but it was certainly a rare occurrence. Reserved for birthdays and Christmas, he couldn’t imagine what he did to deserve such a wonderful wake up.

“Fuck! Princess,” he groaned as you swirled before taking him deep. You hummed questionably.

“What did I, mmmm, do to deserve such a fuck! Perfect mouth. Perfect wake up,” he said pushing covers down to show you between his legs. You looked up at him with big innocent eyes as you licked long hot strips up his cock. You took him deep in your mouth before sliding off with a pop.

“I can’t spoil you?” You purred and he twitched. How did he get so lucky? “Do you want to finish in my mouth or can I ride you first?” You asked and he god honest choked on his spit.

“Baby, *cough* whatever you want, what. Ever. you want,” he said and you grinned before climbing up his body to straddle him. His hands ran along the side of your body before gripping your hips. You sunk down on him with a little mewl.

“Fuck Princess, you’re so wet. Do you like... do you like sucking my cock?” He asked breathlessly.

“Of course, Jaybird. Sometimes I touch myself when I blow you, like today,” you admitted with a sweet little giggle. He almost came right them. How could you say the dirtiest things while being the sweetest person he’d ever known?

Jason reached his thumb down to rub your clit as you moved. You whined before nodding at him. Your mouth fell open and your hips sped up. He knew that you weren’t going to last long. You really did get hot and bothered blowing him. You made little whined and whimpers before moaning his name loudly as you came. Your body clenching on him was enough and he thrust up into you as he came as well. You bent down and kissed him deeply. Jason was panting by the time you pulled back.

“Loved that for sure, but what the hell was that, Princess,” Jason asked breathlessly as you climbed off and threw on some clothing. You chuckled a little before tossing him his boxers.

“Just wanted to wake you up this morning. Do you want some pancakes, Jay,” you asked. He sat up and pulled them on.

“You certainly did. And I never say no to food. Especially my favorite food,” Jason said with a grin. “Is it secretly my birthday? Am I dying and you’re prepping me beforehand?”

You laughed. “You already did that, baby.”

Jason gasped a little before laughing.

“I just wanted to treat you like you deserve. Pick a movie. There’s a new slasher out that you can tear apart,” you said walking in the kitchen and grinned at Jason’s heart eye look he gave you.

He looked through the movies without paying them much mind. He’d seen the joker dead the day before and now his girlfriend was spoiling him. He didn’t know what to think about. He’d think about the joker finally being dead. He couldn’t hurt Jason or those near him any more. You’d been kidnapped 6 months earlier and it had almost ripped Jason apart when he found you bloody and beaten. Luckily alive though.

Then he thought about how sweet you were. A perfect angel who had nothing to do with that life. You couldn’t kill someone if you tried. He just wanted to keep you in an innocent bubble, especially after being kidnapped.

“Jay? Jason?” You said near him and he jumped. He had been so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you coming over to him with a plate of food. Heart shaped pancakes covered in whipped cream stared up at him and Jason had a little grin on his face.

“Sorry, thanks. This looks good,” he said and you grinned before sitting with your own. Jason turned on a movie and sat next to you to eat.

Jason’s phone rang.

He gave you an apologetic look before answering.

“Yeah,” he answered before quickly standing up to talk in another room. Definitely bat business, it sounded like. He came back in a few minutes putting on his suit. He bent and shoved most of a pancake in his mouth. Jason pulled you to your feet and swirled you around before holding you by the waist. You giggled.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve got to work. But when I get back, I’m making up for this morning, okay? Breakfast was amazing,” he said before pulling you into a dizzying kiss. You nodded before he left.

——————————

Jason arrived at the cave and realized something was instantly wrong. Tim, Dick, Damian, Bruce, and even Alfred were waiting for him around the computers. He slowly walked up. They didn’t think he did it, did they? Jason looked around in case of a fight.

“I have some bad news,” Dick said. Jason just stared at him. Dick sighed. “We know who killed the joker. You won’t like it. You- you might want to sit down.”

Jason frowned at his tone. It was the tone you used when telling a kid their parents died. He looked at the computer to see surveillance footage of the roof where he found the joker. He clenched his fist as the mad man walked in the screen.

“You know, this is the worst meeting place in the world,” joker said with a laugh. Jason’s eyebrows rose. He hasn’t expected audio. “So what do you have that I might want on the birds?”

A female voice off camera could be heard saying, “peace of mind.”

“Doubt you could give me that Princess,” he said in a mocking tone. His posture was casual even though the lower half of a woman’s body had walked into the screen and she held a gun in hand pointed at him. She froze at his words.

Jason couldn’t look away if he wanted to.

“Yeah, I know,” joker said. “I forget faces. Too many changing and quite a few people are a little two faced,” he said with a laugh. “But I never forget a voice. You sounded so much more sweet when you were crying tied to a chair. And the way you sobbed when I brought out the crowbar.... music to my ears. I bet it just reminded you of a certain bird that just didn’t quite make it the first time.”

“Shut up. I- I don’t care,” she said. Jason’s heart was in his throat. He knew exactly who that was before Tim’s DNA tests were complete. She moved around a little nervously.

“Honey, Princess,” he said drawn out in a mock of Jason’s voice. “Unless you plan on using that gun, put it down and we can play a game. You like games? You play one with the red bat all the time. Does he know? Does he know that you’ve been hunting me for.... geez, since you were kidnapped I’d bet.”

“Now drop that gun and I show you what pain really feels like,” he growled and she shot him in the forehead before he moved. He made a disconnected sound before falling to his knee, perfect height to be seen in the camera. She shot him again between the eyes and he fell back silently. His body splashed on the rainy roof before blood began to pool behind his head. The woman looked for a second, her body language painfully stiff, before running out the way she came.

The cave was silent as Jason realized what he just saw. He blinked a few times before clearing his throat. Has she- did she-??

“I assume the DNA matches?” He asked and Tim nodded before sliding him a paper copy. 98% match. Only chance it wasn’t you was an evil twin or clone but no, he noticed the clothing and mannerisms. It was you.

“Are you going to bring her in?” Bruce asked quietly and Jason gaped.

“I sure as shit ain’t. She killed the man who kidnapped her and abused her. That sounds like self defense to me,” he defended. Dick looked at him in pity and Jason quickly looked away.

“It was premeditated, Jason,” Bruce reminded him.

“I know. I’ll take care of it. She’s not going to prison. I’ll talk to her,” he said. Bruce gave him a hard look. “You come near her- I swear to god, Bruce. I’ll shoot you myself.”

Jason got up to leave. Dick moved out of his way. He wasn’t getting in this.

“Jason,” Bruce said but Jason was already gone.

——————————

Jason was a pretty smart guy but he was completely shocked at this moment. What possessed you to kill the joker? To seek him out? A man that tried to kill you and you were willing to meet him alone? Not even Jason wanted to do that. And that morning you were treating Jason special. He thought for a second that you killed the joker for him. It chilled him to the bone but he put that thought out of his head. No, you had your own reasons to do it.

Jason walked in the apartment cautiously. Who knows how you would be acting, the perfect girlfriend or finally breaking down when you realized you killed a man. He found you in the bedroom asleep. You didn’t look like you had just killed someone and for a second Jason had doubt but the video and DNA didn’t lie.

He crawled in bed with you. You pulled him close and laid your head on his chest and Jason’s heart hurt. You looked fine but killing people left scars and your first time killing someone was not something you forget.

You woke with a gasp and cry hours later. You trembled and grasped at Jason tightly. He woke up confused before pulling you closer.

“Hey, Princess, I’m right here. You’re okay,” he said rubbing your back and holding you close. “What’s going on?”

“I see him. When I sleep. Every time,” you breathed almost in tears. Jason kissed your cheek and he felt wetness on your skin. You had been crying. He didn’t want to ask but now was as good a time as any.

“Princess, what did you do last night?” Jason asked so quietly. You looked up at him quickly and it confirmed everything he needed to know.

“Nothing. I was here. All night. Wh-why?” You asked, lying terribly. Jason sighed. He closed his eyes before willing himself to speak.

“You know I’m a detective. I can tell that you’re lying,” Jason started gently.

“What does that mean,” you said a little too quickly. Your breathing started to speed up again and Jason hated the look of fear on your face.

“I’m not mad. I won’t turn you in. Just tell me what happened,” he said softly, watching you intently. You wanted to shrink away a little.

“I can’t,” you whispered. Your eyes started to water and you blinked them away.

“Did you do it? Did you kill him? I can help you,” Jason said and you froze. “Talk to me.”

“I-I did,” you said looking at him in terror. Your eyes were red rimmed. “I did.”

“I’m sorry,” he said pulling you tight to his body. You broke down in little sobs and clung to him. “I’m so sorry that you thought you had to. I should have. I’m sorry.” He wrapped you up and made little shhh noises and you cried until you fell back asleep.

You woke up later with a pounding headache wrapped up tightly against Jason. He was on his phone but sat it down when he saw you were up.

“Hey,You don’t have to worry about it. I’ve taken care of everything,” he said ever so gently. You nodded.

“What does that mean?” You asked slowly.

“Red Hood took the wrap on it. No great loss with one less psycho in Gotham. Harley Quinn had an impromptu parade with hyenas and jugglers and everything. Nightwing made an appearance. Dick said Barbie slept through the night for the first time in months and she said she’d help you with anything you need,” Jason said trying to be positive. You gave him a dry smile.

“That’s nice. What about- what about Batman?” You asked.

“He’s Batman. But he’ll get over it. And the next time you kill a murderous clown, let me help. He could have killed you. And if anyone knows how to hide a body, it’s me,” Jason said giving you a squeezing hug. You smiled despite yourself.

“I’ll remember that. I’m a little sad I missed the hyena parade,” you admitted.

“Oh she’s having a parade every day this week. An anonymous donor gave her a ton of fireworks. Fairly certain it was Tim,” Jason said.

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ starting prompt: “Everything changed for me when I met her... My Beloved.”

♡ pairing: yandere! damian wayne (Robin) & fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “imagine me and you? I do. I think about day and night, it’s only right, to think about the girl you love and hold her tight. so happy together.” 

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / in this AU everyone in the batfamily is a yandere and probably has a darling so yeah.

Gotham Academy, for the wealthy and elite one might say. you were one of the lucky ones who got accepted through their scholarship programs and busted your ass off to keep your grades up all years. 

you had very few friends considering most Academy students hardly interacted those who they deemed poor. one friend you did have though was the Wayne heir himself. Damian was one of the first to introduce himself to you when you first arrived to Gotham Academy and really remained your friend throughout the years. 

the fresh morning air blew in the wind, making you pull your jacket closer to you as you tried to find warmth in it. the jackets they provided for your uniform were extremely thin and hardly held in any kind of heat. 

“hey! I think the Wayne kid is looking for you!” you heard your friend, Reagan tell you, “he’s waiting for you at the central garden!” you gave him a smile, thanking him for letting you know before running to where Damian usually was in the morning. 

your mornings with Damian, when he would attend school, would start with him bringing you your favorite coffee and switching homework assignments. 

unlike Damian, you were usually better in courses that had to do with humanities, such as history and english courses and you lacked the smarts that Damian had with science and math courses so the two of you would swap homework first thing in the morning. 

“good morning Wayne,” you said, sitting down on the bench. he handed you his coffee, blowing it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, “good morning, beloved. how did you sleep?” he asked, making sure your eye bags weren’t too harsh. 

you shrugged, “I’m okay. just stressed because of midterms and all of that. how did you sleep?” you asked, taking a sip of coffee. “great considering we fell asleep on Facetime together,” he mentioned, “I did the ap calc homework that you can finally copy!” he added on. 

Damian handed you the calc homework as he watched you scribble down the answers. he noticed that you had painted your nails a new color and touched the polish with his finger, “baby blue? that’s new,” he murmured. you nodded happily, “I love this color on me. I even brought color with me in case it chipped throughout the day!” you exclaimed. 

you showed him the bottle and he grabbed it, “put it on me,” you were taken back by the request. you didn’t take Damian was the kind of guy to dabble in wearing polish but nevertheless complied and put the polish on it before grabbing his hand and blowing on it to make it dry quicker, “I didn’t know you wore nail polish!” you mentioned. 

Damian thought for a moment. 

“I don’t but that way people will know we’re matching,” he murmured as the warning bell rang off. 

you and Damian walked slowly to your first period class. the summer going into your Senior year, Damian made it a duty of his to make sure that the two of you shared the same classes. so without you knowing, he had Tim hack into the Gotham Academy school system and pull Damian onto the rosters where you were enrolled in. 

you found the similarities to be funny, however; some of the teachers wondered how the hell they put the two of you in every class together. some didn’t care considering you were able to keep Damian from saying smart shit to someone in class and others were just weirded out by the coincidence. 

“god, I hate this class. you know Matt who sits in front of the class? I have to swear some gross comment about how great my legs look in the uniform by him at least twice every day.” 

Damian’s eye twitched at what you had said, “does it bother you?” he asked, his fist clenched. you nodded annoyingly, “more than anything in the world. I can’t go one day without hearing the comments,” you groaned. 

the two of you got to class but as you walked in, you had saw that Matt wasn’t in class and sighed in relief. Damian had told you he was running off to the bathroom before class started and just to write down whatever he missed while he was gone. 

you sat down, immediately writing what was already on the board but as the class started, Damian still hadn’t shown up. you were beginning to think that maybe the coffee had upset his stomach but about half way through the class, Damian came and plopped down at his desk. 

“where were you? Jackson nearly had a fit because you were late!” you muttered to him. he shrugged, taking out his pen and notebook before leaning over to copy what you had on yours.

it took about another twenty minutes when another teacher ran into the class frantically, “Matthew Harrison was just found in the garden, unconscious and is barely hanging onto his life!” the teacher told your teacher, making all of you gasp in surprise, “call an ambulance!” 

you stared to Damian wide eyed, “my God, that’s insane! we were just there. I wonder who did it,” you told Damian, chewing your lip nervously, “I hope whoever did it doesn’t come for any of us.”

Damian could tell you were scared from the news and he quickly grabbed your hand, “I think you’re safe, beloved. you shouldn’t worry about it,” he assured you. you nodded, going back to writing down the notes, “hey, he finally got what he deserved for harassing you, right?” Damian mentioned. 

you laughed shaking your head, “I guess but I mean, I hope he doesn’t die or anything,” that was the last thing you said before the both of you got to working on the work the teacher assigned for the class while she was gone.

Damian could tell you were shaken by the news but at the end of the day, he did what he had to do. someone was harassing his beloved and he’d be damned if they got away with it. it took every ounce of self restriction to stop himself from actually killing the idiot but the beating he actually gave him did more than enough to satisfy him for the time being.

two broken legs, a broken nose, and making him go blind in one eye was more than enough. the great thing about Gotham Academy was that because of how old the building was, cameras weren’t installed anywhere outside and any cameras that were inside were just in the upgraded part of the school which happened to be the front of the school and the gym. 

the end of the day came as Damian had offered to take you home. you denied the request, telling him you wanted to walk to get some fresh air before you trapped yourself in your room for the rest of the night. 

Damian was hesitant on letting you but at the end of the day, you weren’t his...yet. he knew his feelings for you weren’t exactly normal. far from it, actually. 

when his feelings for you boiled over to damn near obsession, he confided in the one person he trusted the most and that was Dick. he practically confessed how he needed to be near or around you every day or else he would go insane. even if it was just seeing you from afar made his day a 100x better. 

Dick laughed at his brothers confession because he knew it was about time it happened to him. he had gone through the same feelings when he met his now wife and so did Bruce, Tim, Duke, and Jason. 

when Damian was finally confident enough to tell everyone else, they finally let him in on the family secret. these feelings were nothing to be afraid of. he should embrace them and hell, make his feelings get even ‘worse’. it was his job as your protector to feel that way and act on his instincts for you. 

Damian got home, seeing his father and brother watching the news. they were covering what happened at school and a part of him laughed seeing the coverage. 

“did you see what happened?” Dick asked his brother. Damian nodded, kicking off his shoes and laying on the other couch, “of course I did because I was the one who did it,” he said nonchalantly. 

Bruce and Dick stared at him, wide eyed and shocked, “the scum was messing with my beloved. he was making disgusting comments about her and degrading her in a way she and I didn’t like. the piece of shit deserved more than what he got,” he stated, not even bothering to look at them to see their reaction.

“so it’s best we don’t investigate this, I assume?” Bruce asked, “you would assume right,” Damian replied. 

Dick got off the couch and went on one knee to look at his brother, “Damian, you know the implications that comes with how you left him. you know that, right?” he stated. Damian stared at Dick with no fear in his eyes, “everything changed for me when I met her... my beloved. I would kill for her if I had too.” 

Bruce sat in his seat, proudly smirking at what his son said. Dick nodded, walking back to the couch as Damian stood up to go to his bedroom, “it’s only a matter of what before I make her mine so expect her to be around soon enough,” he told them.

+

a few weeks had passed since the incident with your classmate. since then, you had gotten clingier to Damian, not wanting to be at the end of the beating. Daimian had no issue in it, he was practically basking in the touches and side hugs you were giving him. 

you and Damian had decided to head back to his place after school to get some studying done. Friday nights were usually reserved to studying at your place but Damian had offered to make you dinner at his place and study before watching a few movies. 

you had never been over the Wayne manor before and frankly, you were kind of scared to run into his father. THE Bruce Wayne would most likely be in attendance and meeting the most powerful man in Gotham would probably scare anyone. 

Damian unlocked the gate, quickly taking your backpack as you snuggled into his jacket. you were immediately welcomed by his butler, Alfred who offered to put both of you bags in the hallway so no one would step over them. you thanked him profusely, making Damian mutter to you that that’s why he was here. to serve you. 

“so, what would you like to eat, beloved? I can make you anything you desire,” he boasted. you looked at the cookbook that was laid next to you and flipped through the first few pages, “this sounds nice,” you pointed to the plant based steak with veggies.

Damian quickly got to work, making the veggies first as he offered for you taste them every now and again. you would usually relay a kiss on his cheek as he finally got to cooking the steak. you couldn’t help but wonder how he got to be such a great cook, however; as he was finishing plating the food, you saw his father as well as you assumed were his brothers. 

“uh Damian?” you mentioned, pointing to the three men who walked in. Damian sighed knowing that of course his brothers were going to come and annoy him, “who’s your friend?” Dick asked, putting his chin on his hand. 

“this is ( your name ), my beloved,” he told them proudly. you were a bit taken back by the nickname he so easily used on you, “ahh, we’ve heard so much about you,” Tim continued, “she’s so pretty....she’s not like other girls,” Dick mocked. 

your face felt a burning sensation as Bruce told his sons to be quiet, “nice to meet you ( your name ),” Bruce introduced, “welcome to the family,” you barely caught what he said as Damian excused the two of you to go up to his bedroom. 

“your family is...nice,” you tried to say without sounding nervous. Damian rolled his eyes, “they’re bunch of idiots. that’s what they are,” he muttered, not bothering to look back at them. 

once you got to his room, your mouth dropped a bit. you had never seen such a luxurious bedroom before. satin sheets, the coldest pillows, his bedroom could probably house a family if he really wanted too and the fact that this was his bedroom, you were taken back. 

“wow, so this is how the rich and famous live?” you joked, sitting down on his bed. he shook his head, “all this means nothing to me...as long as you’re with me, I’d be the happiest person alive,” you stared at Damian, wondering if what he said was really true. 

the two of you ate, mostly in silence as you tried to take what Damian had said. there had been rumors floating around Gotham Academy that Damian might’ve liked you. you tried to dispel the rumors, claiming that someone like you was no where near Damian’s type but now that you were hearing the words he was telling you, you were more keen on acting on his feelings. 

after finishing dinner, he offered for you to join him on his bed to watch a movie. you had never actually gotten to hang out with Damian outside of school. since you were always so busy doing schoolwork and Damian always had things to take care of, as he put it, you two never relaxed together. 

the aura in the room was cozy as he offered you a very expensive looking blanket to cover you up from the chilly air coming from his window. the movie the two of you picked was some random rom-com, it felt kind of stupid to be watching this kind of movie with Damian but at some point, you stopped paying attention to the movie and looked up to him. 

“did you really mean what you said earlier?” you whispered to him. he gave you a confused look, “of course I did. would I ever lie to you?” he said back, kind of offended that you would even accuse him of lying. 

you sat back up on the bed and turned to fix yourself as you finally gave him a kiss. Damian’s eyes widened, not expecting you to do that to him. regardless, he immediately pulled you on top of him and deepened the kiss by pushing you up against him. 

Damian slid his hands in the back pocket of your skirt, finding it a bit confusing why the uniforms even had pockets on the skirts. he gripped your ass a bit, making you moan in surprise as Damian tried his hardest to contain himself but failing as he slipped his tongue into yours. 

the two of you remained kissing for what felt like hours. you knew your lips were bound get bruised from the amount of tugging Damian was doing but by the time you pulled away, you could see the faintest of blushes appearing on Damian’s brown skin. 

“wow, didn’t know you felt like that for me,” you muttered shyly. Damian chuckled, giving you a quick peck, “I have feelings you wouldn’t even begin to understand but one day....one day you will,” he replied. 

you didn’t pay no mind to his reply as he had brought you down for another kiss. what you didn’t catch was the smirk playing on his face. he knew that once graduation came, there would already be a ring on that left ring finger and soon enough, you’d be baring his heirs. 

the Wayne’s got what they wanted. it didn’t matter what they had to do to get it but what the Wayne’s wanted, they got. 

[ragingbookdragon]

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Ghost-Maker x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes

Author's Note: Based on this ask right here! Enjoy! -Thorne

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

Being the only non-vigilante in the family besides Alfred meant that she was the one who was normal. Or abnormal in her family’s case—but hey, they still loved their abnormal sister. She was the one who was able to provide rationality from a civilian perspective, another look from a different lens. She was softer too. Much softer than most of her family, quiet, reserved, kind. She didn’t like fighting. Didn’t like arguing and screaming until throats were raw.

Her nights weren’t usually spent outside fighting crime, though she did help out in the cave from time to time, readying equipment, providing food and drinks for before and after patrol routes. Most nights, she was at her apartment or still working. She liked not being a vigilante. Liked being able to go out with her friends at night and not be burdened by last minute bailouts because Two-Face decided to rob a bank or Penguin started a gang war with Joker.

All that being said, she did know her father’s enemies and friends. Being the first child in the manor and with less than two decades between her and him, his enemies and friends were well-known categories to her. Bruce’s oldest friend during his travels, Ghost-Maker, had also been someone she’d known—at least by story. She’d never met him until the night he showed up and challenged her father. Then he became a member of their family, though she could tell the others were wary—she didn’t blame them, but if she didn’t extend the olive branch, she knew they weren’t going to reach out.

They got along well, in her opinion. She liked to be around him and often felt like Ghost-Maker relaxed around her, even to the point that he spoke of his travels. It was no surprise to either of them when they started a romantic relationship. And while he wasn’t particularly monogamous, he seemed satisfied with her for the time being.

***

It was far, few, and in between when they were all in the cave at once, and not dressed in gear about to go out, but instead to hang around and train. She smiled as Cass and Duke wiped the floor with Jason and Dick. Tim and Damian were butting heads about a video game and Steph was leaning over the back of Barbara’s wheelchair, offering insight to some new update the tech genius was creating. Bruce and Ghost-Maker were leaning against the table, quietly murmuring back and forth to each other—in Latin, she had to note, figuring it was because she was in the middle of them, and they didn’t want her to know; she wasn’t upset.

“Jason, Cass, no hits below the belt,” she called out. “You both know better that.”

Cass nodded, readying her position again, but Jason stopped, propping his hands on his hips as he griped, “Okay, but in real life, people hit below the belt, (Y/N).”

She tutted at him. “Jason, you have to be the bigger person.” Raising a fist, she grinned, “Punch ‘em in the face.”

“I can do that!” he chirped.

“I didn’t mean punch Ca—oh, who am I kidding, he won’t be able to hit her,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest in preparation for the all-out ass-kicking her second younger brother was going to get; she looked over at Bruce. “Wanna bet on them?”

He chuckled. “Ten on Cass.”

“But I was choosing Cass!” she pouted, then pursed her lips. “Fine. I’ll up it to twenty on Jason.”

“Do you two bet on your family often?” Ghost-Maker asked, and she looked over.

“When it’s a high-stakes match.” (Y/N) nodded at the two siblings circling one another, Duke and Dick had moved off the mats. “Jason and Cass are two of the best fighters alive. Each are capable of going hand to hand with Bruce and lasting for a quite a while.” She looked back at him. “When they really hit their primes, they’ll be better than you and dad.”

He snorted. “There are few people who are better than me and Bruce.”

(Y/N) propped a hand on her hip. “This coming from the man who gets his ass kicked every time you and my dad fight?”

“This coming from the woman who can’t fight at all?” he shot back, and her cheeks warmed, jaw snapping closed at the retort.

“I chose not to fight because I don’t believe in violence.”

“You literally just told him to punch someone in the face.”

“Just because I don’t believe in hitting people doesn’t mean I can’t tell someone. It’s just speech. Words.”

“I think you’re making excuses,” he smirked.

(Y/N) glared. “I think you’re being a jerk.”

“Nice comeback. Did you get it from a laffy taffy wrapper?”

Even Bruce snorted at that one and she couldn’t help but shift her weight between her feet as embarrassment flooded her body. “You are such a nasty person. Rude and nasty and mean.”

Ghost-Maker cocked a brow, at least she thought he did. “Aw, are you upset that I’m faster at firing off than you are?”

She scoffed. “Thanks for reminding me why we stopped screwing. Maybe the next time we do, you’ll fire second?” This time, his jaw went slack, and he gaped at her, but she was quick to add, “And for the record, being rude and condescending doesn’t make you look cool. It just makes you look like an asshole. But you’d know a lot about that, huh?”

“I think I know much more than you do, Primadonna.”

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh? So, what do you want me to call you? Miss Snobby?”

She turned to face him. “I’m warning you.”

“I’ve got it! Miss Prude!”

THWAP!

She’d let her fist fly before she even knew what she was doing and not even Ghost-Maker was able to react fast. He reached up, grabbing his nose as blood spilled out his nostrils, staining the rim of the cloth mask he wore. The noise in the cave stilled as everyone turned to face their eldest sister, all gaping, though Jason and Cass wore proud looks. Even Bruce had no idea how to react.

(Y/N), with hot cheeks, thrust a finger in his face and griped, “Newsflash, Ghost-Maker. The Wayne Family motto is ‘talk shit, get hit’.” She sped off towards the stairs, half out of embarrassment, the other half of giddy adrenaline. “I’m going home! Goodnight!”

Ghost-Maker merely watched her back as she left, blinking in stunned silence; Bruce snickered. “My daughter isn’t a vigilante, K. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t train her to defend herself.”

He shot his friend a glare and wiped his nose, feeling the sting, starting to walk off. “Go shove it.”

“And just where are you going?”

“You heard her,” he grinned. “The next time we screwed I had to fire second. Besides, someone’s gotta drive her home.”

Bruce was already starting after him. “That is my daughter you’re talking about! Get back here damnit! I will not let you taint her!”

“She’s already been tainted by me, old friend. Many times.”

“I DON’T NEED TO KNOW THAT, K! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”

[ellana-ravenwood]

The day he understood what Death means - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : The youngest Wayne makes a shocking discovery...And will need his parents, siblings, and the one and only Alfred, to recover from it. /Drabble.

I don’t know. I was thinking about this. How when you’re a kid, realizing that one day you’ll die, but worst, that the people you love will die, is sort of traumatic...And wanted to write about it. So. Here we are, with little Thomas eh. I hope you will like it :) :

My masterlists blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

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If you have no idea who Thomas is, he appears in those stories (long story short he’s the youngest kiddo, biological of Batmom and Bruce) : The Great Mall adventure, Master of Diaper Shaky steps and bad teaching, Polichinelle, “Go away, you’re confusing my baby”, Wild Child 2, “We want them back”, How do you make babies ?“ and Mom got lost again”

                                                   ******

Realizing your loved ones are not immortal for the first time can be traumatic. 

Especially if they’re amazing, if they’re your heroes, if you admire them beyond all measure, if they love you unconditionally just like you love them so damn much, and if you can’t even imagine your life without seeing them every day.

If you can’t even fathom the fact that maybe, one day, they won’t be there when you wake up and go look for them. And that they will never be there again. 

And so it was particularly quite the shocking discovery for little Thomas Clark Wayne, 5 and a half years old, to find out about that certain thing called...”Death”. 

It happened on a moody, rainy Summer day. The weather outside was awful, even for Gotham City. And it meant that Thomas was calmly playing inside, rather than getting up to some shenanigans in the garden. 

His parents were home, it was one of those rare day they both had off. 

Which always filled little Tommy with joy. It wasn’t often he could get them both with him !! In the end, the fact it was rainy outside was good. It meant they’d probably all snuggle up later in the day, and watch a film, a mug of hot cocoa in their hands. 

You would probably throw a blanket over him, and keep him close, sandwiched between you and his dad. His father would fall asleep half-way through the film, which would annoy you and Damian. 

Damian would join for sure. Sitting next to you. Yes. He would. Maybe Tim too, if he wasn’t too busy with college ? Oh he would surely make the time to come. And Cass ? Yes. Yes Cass would be there, sitting in her usual spot, on the floor right in front of you (or maybe Tommy). Because she knew you’d gently run your hand through her hair, and your youngest son slowly took the habit to do the same. Which was so soothing to Cass...Duke would certainly be there, he never said no to a good movie. 

Maybe, because it was a rainy day, Dick and Jason would come too ? Unlikely, but Thomas could hope. He loved having his entire family in one spot. 

They’d ask him to do his “puppy eyes” and convince Alfred to join them too, and not work. 

Alfred had an armchair reserved just for him. Right next to the couch where Bruce would sit, leaving enough space for Ace to lay down (Damian’s dog, Titus, always preferred to be near his master, who would more often than not be sitting next to you, laying his head on your shoulder, even as he was not a child anymore...Yes, Titus sat next to Cass, at Damian’s feet, letting his head fall down in Cass’ laps). 

Ace...Ace didn’t feel well yesterday, and this morning, the “dog doctor” came. 

Thomas heard him say they needed to give him a...an “indection” or something ? (An injection, really) So he’d probably get better. Shots were supposed to get you better or to avoid you getting sick, that’s what you told him. 

His dad looked upset, but it didn’t alarm Thomas much. Because his dad was always upset when him or his siblings would get a shot, he hated going, so it was probably the same thing. 

Come to think of it, Thomas hadn’t seen Ace since the “vekerinarianan” (or whatever it was pronounced) came earlier in the day. 

He suddenly wanted some “doggle” (dog cuddles), and so he put down the toys he was playing with, and went to look for him. 

Maybe, he could also round up the rest of his family so they’d start movie time earlier ? 

Hyped to have some family time, as he considered his dogs family for sure, he went on the hunt to find Ace, and gather everyone else. 

If only. If only he had known...

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

“Aaaace !! Aaace ? Ace boy, where are you ?” 

This was odd. Usually, Ace would come running if he heard the little one’s voice. That dog loved children, and he made it his mission to protect all of them (bonus point if he had some snuggle, and a few treats, while doing it). 

Bruce told him long ago to protect his kids...So Ace was always there. 

Maybe he wanted to play hide and seek ? Thomas would play that game with Titus and Damian, Ace never seemed very interested, but maybe he changed his mind ? 

“Ace ? Aaaacceeee ?” 

The boy roamed the manor, but every room Ace would usually hang in were empty. 

Finally, he decided he’d ask his parents, who would usually hang out in...oh, they weren’t in their usual spot either. In their bedroom, maybe ? 

Thomas ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, sure that he would find Ace, and his parents, asleep in the master’s bedroom. When they had their day off, his mama and daddy would often take long naps together.  

Thomas immediately knew something was wrong when the door to the room was wide open. Slowly, he approached the place and...surely his parents were there. 

But something was off. 

His dad was laying in the bed, back to the door, his head laid in your lap. One of your hand was caressing his head soothingly, while the other was drawing calming circles on his back. 

Definitely something was not normal. You’d do that to your kids when they were sad, or sick...Was daddy sick ?! This gave Thomas a little fright. 

You whisper something into Bruce’s ears, and he doesn’t answer, just shaking his head to say “yes”. And so you stand up, after giving him a kiss on the cheek, and...You spot your youngest son. 

You smiled at him reassuringly, and go to him. 

“Hey little buddy. You should give a big hug to Daddy, he’s very sad today.” 

You say, walking past him and ruffling his hair. 

From the direction you were taking, you were going to the kitchen, and Thomas just instantly assumed you were going to brew some tea for his dad. When Bruce was sad, you’d always brew some tea for him, from his mother’s garden (which was kept up nice and clean by you and Alfred, now). 

Worried about his dad, Thomas slowly walked to him and climbed on the big bed. Bruce turned around to see what this new weight was, as he knew you had just left and...He smiled. 

Of this wide pure genuine smile he gave his family only. 

But there was a hint of sadness behind his eyes, and Thomas didn’t like that one bit. So the little boy crawled to his dad, and nestled next to him, wrapping his little arms around his dad’s neck and holding tightly. 

Bruce engulfed his son in his own arms, holding onto the little one, burrying his face in his hair. There was always something comforting, in the smell his kiddo had. It was a mix of your smell, which was always soothing to him, but also something more...Something soft and sweet. 

Just like his son. 

Little Thomas was the epitome of a sweet child. It was a miracle, a man like him made a child this cute and happy. Ah, but he wasn’t raising him alone of course. There was you, and his siblings, and Alfred... 

After a pause of the little boy holding his dad, he whispered slowly : 

“Daddy, why are you sad Daddy ? Please don’t be sad, it makes me sad too.”

Thomas unwrapped his arms from around his dad’s neck, and squished his little hands on Bruce’s cheeks. Which made Bruce sigh fondly, chuckling a little as he said, honestly (he shouldn’t hide this sort of things) : 

“Because Ace is gone.”  

There’s another silence, during which Thomas tries to understand why is the fact Ace went somewhere so sad. He cannot figure it out, so he asks : 

“But, he’ll come back daddy. Like always. Yes ? Ace is a good boy.” 

“Was.”

Bruce is clumsy in his grief. He always been. He’s not sure how to broach the subject to his son, how to explain to him their dog was just too old and sick to make it...He doesn’t know how to explain death to him. 

“Was ?” 

“Ace is gone for good.” 

“What do you mean Daddy ? Where did he go ? Why couldn’t we see him again ? Did he move out, like Dick ?” 

Oh. Oh the sweet innocence of a child that is maybe a little too sheltered by his family (he’s the youngest, the one they’re trying to keep away from the horror they see every day as much as they can...Although he’s still trained, all of them hope he will never become a Robin, or worst, a Batman). 

“Did he move out, like Dick ?” 

Sweet, sweet Thomas. Not able to even fathom that Ace is never coming back...and why would he ? How could he know what his father meant ? 

“No, no he didn't move out. He left us, to a place we can’t follow him to.” 

Another short pause. And you could see the gears in little Thomas’ head turning. After a little bit, he asks :

“...The toilets ?”

This makes his father chuckle, even in this sad times. But he continues : 

“No. Not the toilets. He...He went really far away, where we can’t ever see him again.” 

This idea is so foreign to your son, that he raises himself on one of his elbow and exclaims : 

“Why would he do that ? Does he not love us anymore ?” 

Obviously, the thought is distressing to the little bird. So Bruce says : 

“No no no, of course he still loves us...loved, us. But he had to go.”

“But why ?” 

“Because he was getting very old, and sick.”

“But we don't mind daddy, right ? We don’t mind ? He doesn't have to go away for that, I don’t care if he doesn’t play like he used to, I want him to stay ! Tell him daddy, call him on the phone to tell him to come back.” 

Bruce is lost. How ? How can he explains what death means ? He thought about this moment coming many times, but never told him anything as he thought that he had time to know what it meant. He had time...

How do you tell a child that one of his favorite “person” in the world is dead ?

“Unfortunately buddy, we have some sad news.”

His savior. You, as usual. With two cups of tea, and a cup of hot cocoa on a tray. As you went downstairs to get some “pick me up” for Bruce, you knew your son was gonna need it too. 

“What news mama ?” 

“Ace. He died today.” 

You actually thought about it as you were preparing everything for them. How to talk about this ? You decided to go with “honesty”. Not brutal honesty though. You weren’t about to traumatize your son. 

But you thought it was important he knew what happened to Ace. As a child, you hated how your brothers tried to make you think your ferret ran away to Las Vegas or something of the like. 

You understood this sentiment, of course. But you also remembered how betrayed you felt when you finally understood “death” and realized your beloved Mister Will Ferret was NOT in Sin City having fun, but just died...

The truth was important. 

Especially about such subjects. 

Children weren’t dumb. And they had every right to know certain truth.

Did you wish your son could stay innocent for longer ? Of course. But he still had a right to know what happened to his dog. To be treated like a person and be explained things. 

People, too often, treats children as some kind of idiots who wouldn’t comprehend complex things anyway, and who have to be protected at all cost from anything...

Kids were clever. You had a bunch of them to prove it so. But above that, although you agreed kids had to be protected...You weren't one of those person who thought you should lie to your children in order to do so. 

 Because one day, he’ll know what death is. He’ll know what happened to Ace. And what if the fact you lied that day, settles a slight distrust in him towards anything you’ll ever tell him ? Just like it did with you and your brothers ? 

No. You thought at first it was a good idea to delay such a conversation. But why ? Because it would make you more comfortable ? That didn’t sound very fair in regard of your boy.

Everyone always talked about “the birds and the bees” talk, but never about something that was even more inescapable than that...

Death. 

You give him a few seconds to take in your words. “Ace died today.” You wait for his reaction. He seems to think about it, having vaguely heard of “death” before...finally he asks : 

“What does it mean ?” 

He’s sitting up in the bed now. Bruce did the same, encircling his arms around his boy protectively (old habits die hard). But he’s determined to explain things to him too. You and Bruce were always rather in sync, about how you should raise your children. 

“It means he will no longer be with us. He passed away to something else.” 

“To what ?” 

“No one really knows.” 

“Will we see him again ?” 

“No.” 

“Why ?”

“Because he’s dead.” 

“And being dead means you can’t see anyone anymore ?”

“Being dead means you are not living on this Earth anymore, so yes, you cannot see them anymore.” 

“It means we can’t see him ? And what do you mean not on Earth ? Is he in Space ? Can we see him if we go to the watchtower ?” 

“I mean in our life, we will not see Ace again. He won’t be with us ever again. He’s not in space, he’s just gone.” 

“Because he’s dead ?” 

“Because he’s dead.” 

“So, being dead means we don’t get to see someone ever again ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ever ever ?” 

You decide to leave any conversations about a possible after-life aside, as it’s clear this, he’s not quite old enough to comprehend. So you keep on talking about the truth, with the support of Bruce. 

“Yes. Ever ever.” 

It takes Thomas a few minutes to take in all those new informations. Bruce is sitting on the bed, legs crossed, behind the boy. And your son is clearly lost in deep thoughts...Up until finally, finally tears are starting to well up in his eyes. 

“But I didn’t even say goodbye !”

“Unfortunately, we don’t always get to say goodbye...” 

“But mama, how will he know I loved him so much if I didn’t even say goodbye before he left ? How could you let him go before I did ?”

“I’m sorry, if I could chose I would’ve-...He knew you loved him and-”

“Are you going to die too ?!”

The dreaded question. Dreadest of them all, really. But you can’t lie to him. Not now that you started to explain things. 

“Yes. Everyone dies one day.” 

“But but but...but I don’t want you to die ! And Daddy ?” 

Bruce nods, and...and that’s when it finally happens. 

The awful moments your sweet innocent boy realizes what death sort-of means. That one day, none of his parents will be in his life anymore. Than one day, he’ll lose his siblings, and Alfred. 

Just like he lost Ace. Because he was “old and sick”. But...Thomas knew a lot of sick people ! And a lot of old people ! Were they going to die too, without him being able to say goodbye ?!

And so the tears started to fall. And oh, oh did they fall. 

Bruce held his son against his heart, drawing soothing circles on his back, just like you usually do. And you came to sit next to them, encircling them in your arms as well. 

Thomas was trying to talk, but nothing came out very clearly as he cried, cried, cried and cried some more. 

When he finally calmed down, he was slowly falling asleep, crying drained him of all his energy. That night, there was no “movie time”, but comforting snuggles with his parents... 

Thomas had finally discover what “Death” meant.

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

“Oh my God Thomas !”

Bruce’s heart drops.

The entire scene goes in slow motion, and the fearless Batman can see his entire life flash in front of his eyes, as his tiny son is running towards him, while a few thugs were about to shoot automatic weapons at him...

“There’s a kid ! There’s a kid !”

“Who cares, we have the bat right at our mercy, just shoot !”

“I can’t shoot a kid...”

“Should we shoot ?”

The few seconds of surprise after Thomas bursted in allow Damian to swoop down, and to get rid of everyone. Slowly, a serious face on, your son walks to his dad and, solemnly, he says :

“This was too close, father. And...Thomas...”

“I know Damian, I know.”

Your little boy was inconsolable, clinging to his dad.

They didn’t even have to ask him how he got there. It was obvious he somehow snuck into the Batmobile (which wasn’t that much of a surprise, although it was already quite a feat...Thomas was small, but also very stealthy, as he was taught to be).

He was only five, and it wasn’t really clear to him yet his dad was that “Batman” everyone talked about, that his siblings were also vigilantes...But he knew that when they went out at night, they were often in danger.

And that night. That night right after the one Thomas learned what Death was...He snuck in the car, so he would make sure “she” would not take her dad away ! Or her brothers and sister !

Only Damian and Bruce were in the car, on patrol together. The rest of the kids were scattered across the city, and you were taking care of the bat computer (nowadays you were the one doing so to give some relief to Alfred).

Thomas took the habit to fall asleep in the cave, in a bed there just for him...and he must’ve snuck into the car. 

It was nobody’s fault. It was very unlike the boy, to do such a thing.

He got into the car. When Damian and his father got out of it to apprehend a few of Two-Face’s thug, he stayed behind, looking at what they did...but when he saw those men about to shoot his dad (a proper ambush), he jumped out, punching every buttons (which was quite dangerous itself) to find which one opened the door, and then he ran to his dad...

The surprised probably saved Bruce. But it also almost killed him with a heart attack. 

What if those men didn’t hesitate long enough for Damian to take care of them ? What if they shot anyway, ignoring the surprising appearance of a small child ? What if they had recognize who that kid was, too ? (Unlikely, this was a time where Thomas was still quite sheltered from media, as you tried to give him a childhood as normal as you all possibly could). 

What if they shot anyway...

Bruce doesn’t think he would’ve survived the death of his youngest son. He was sure, actually, that he would’ve killed those men. 

That is, if Damian didn’t do it first. 

But it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen, but it was so close. So close. 

Later, when everything calmed down, Thomas would explain he jumped in the car to “keep death away”, to protect his daddy and brother. To make sure Death wouldn’t take them. 

And that's when you all understood Ace’s death, and the discovery that everyone dies one day, one way or another, truly was “traumatic” for your baby. 

From that point on, you made sure that Thomas would be in the cave...but this event. This event really unfolded a problem you knew you’d have to tackle truly one day. 

You just had no idea yet how to help your son. 

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

Damian had told Jason the debacle that was yesterday. About his parents explaining to their little brother what it meant to be dead. And about how it lead to Thomas sneaking into the Batmobile and running in front of danger to “protect” his dad. 

Because of where he grew up, Damian always knew what death meant. And he never cared much (or convinced himself he never cared much). He understood from a very young age what all this shenanigans was...

Jason did too. He found his mother, dead, when he was three years old. He grew up surrounded by death, in the gutter of Gotham. He knew. He did. 

But Thomas. 

Thomas was a “normal” 5 years old boy, as normal you can be in such a family. He trained a little, and sort of knew about his dad being “Batman” (but it seemed he didn’t understand he was ACTUALLY the Batman people talked about in the city). 

He spend most of his nights in a little area made just for him, with a bed and such, in the batcave (he hated sleeping upstairs alone, so he would sleep in the batcave and you’d pick him up to bring him in  his bed once you’d go to bed, and/or once the rest of your family would get home). 

So for a little one like Thomas, who was pure and sweet and nice...It was a shock, to know one day he’d lose the people he loved. 

He was inconsolable, at Ace’s funerals (thrown at the back of the Manor).  

He couldn’t get over the fact he didn’t get to say goodbye, and that he would never play with his dog anymore. 

It made it worst, that Ace’s death made everyone else sad. That dog truly was a member of the family... 

“I know you're feeling very sad. I'm sad, too. We all loved Ace so much, and he oved us, too.”

You told him a few times, tryin to put words on his emotions and helping him understand...God, to Damian, you truly were the most amazing mother. Always knew what to say, how to say it, when to say it.  

But Thomas was still blue, and it was so unlike his usual bubbly personality. 

And so, both Damian and Jason made it their mission to distract their little brother, and...it worked. For the most part. It really worked. 

Amongst all his siblings, Damian and Jason were the ones that loved having a little brother the most. Not that the others didn’t, of course ! They just were a little less willing to play for hours on end with a little kid. 

They were rather busy. Jason and Damian always found ways...They were an unlikely pairs at first glance. Most people would think Damian was the closest to Dick, and Jason too. But no. They were equally as close to all their siblings, in different ways. 

But Damian and Jason, they had an extra connection. Jason was there, when Damian was a baby. He didn’t remember his own name, and was used by the Al’Ghuls after they resurrected him...But he was still one of the only person in Damian’s life that truly valued him. 

Fate, right ? A funny thing. After all, how small did the world have to be for two of Bruce’s sons to meet in such a way ? A hidden son, and one he thought dead, at that ?! 

In any case. They were closer than most would think. And they also were linked not only by the Al’Ghuls, but by how they were both ripped off of an actual childhood, and therefor wanted to make sure their little brother had one too (Cass was the same, but more subtle, and discreet). 

And so...

They played, made art pieces, jigsaw puzzles, watched his favorite movies, cooked...Anything to take his mind off of “Death”. 

That little boy would overthink too much, for such a young age. 

But overall, Damian and Jason did a good job distracting him from the pain. 

They did an amazing job. 

You were so proud of how they took care of their baby brother (and it would give yourself more time to go cheer up the “Oldest Wayne”, your dear husband, who definitely had a hard time getting over his dog’s death...). 

Only, there was one problem...And that problem was that neither Damian nor Jason, just like everyone else, were immortal. 

And this, this, Thomas would realize very soon. 

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

“More compresses, Master Tim !” 

“On it Al !” 

The loud noises woke Thomas up. You knew. You knew you should’ve gone up to bed earlier. Tuck him in, and wait for your family to come back. 

Ah. But when they all arrived in the cave, ALL of them, including Dick who did not live at the manor anymore...You knew there was a problem. 

And indeed. Jason had been badly hurt. Not something that couldn’t be fixed, but ah, once again, too damn close. 

Everyone was on the tail of a high profile serial killer, the newcomer called “Dr Pyg”, and...Collateral damage. It happened, in this line of work. 

It wasn’t easy. Especially when it was one of your baby. But you had to keep a leveled head, as you helped Alfred fix your boy. 

You had taken medical trainings early in in your relationship with Bruce. For obvious reasons. And there was rarely a day it didn’t come in handy. 

In any case, all the noises around woke Thomas up. 

Before. Before he knew what death truly meant, he would’ve been worried. He would've cried. He would’ve been distressed. Of course. 

And one of his siblings would’ve taken care of him, reassure him, soothe and console him, and little Thomas would be ok again. 

Before he knew what death truly meant. 

He was so small anyway, most of the time he’d forget things, or just not understand them...but he was five now. Close to the age of reason. And definitely aware of his surroundings enough now to pay attention, and remember things. 

And he knew what death truly meant. 

He clung to Jason for dear life, even as everyone reassured him he was actually ok. Jason himself was conscious, he had been badly hurt but nothing he hadn’t seen before. 

He needed some rest for sure, but it was fine, really. 

It wasn’t fine for Thomas. He yelled, threw the biggest tantrum he ever threw, yelled some more that they should stop. That he didn’t want them to die. That whatever they were doing...He begged them to stop. 

Never before in your life, had any of you witness Thomas being in such a state. He was inconsolable. You couldn’t calm him down, no matter what...

And once more, it’s only because of exhaustion that he finally relaxed. But yet, still in his sleep, he clung to Jason’s sleeve, as if afraid his brother would be gone when he’d wake up. 

It tore yours and Bruce’s heart apart, to see your baby like this. But to be honest...neither of you knew what to do...

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

“Where’s Damian mama ? Where is he ?” 

Thomas was truly panicked. 

The first day, he thought maybe his brother was busy with school and such. The second day, he started to worry. But now ? Three days in a row with Damian not at the dinner table ? Or in his room ? Or in the batcave ?! 

It made Thomas anxious. What happened to his brother ? Was he...was he...DID DEATH TAKE HIM AWAY ? 

“Where’s Dami mama ? Where is he ?!”  Thomas kept asking, crying. And it took you moment to finally realize what your son must’ve thought. When you did, you picked him up and calmed him down, explaining Damian was simply over at Jon’s for a few days... 

And from that day on, you’d make sure to tell him why anyone would be gone for any amount of time. 

That night, Bruce and you talked about what you could do to help Thomas get over his consuming fear of losing one of you. 

But nothing really came to your minds. 

And it was awful, to feel like a failure like that. 

Later on, your Damian would tell you you were NOT failing at parents because you were a little lost about this. After all, none of your other kids got into quite a crisis like this one. He said maybe considering a therapist could do ? But oh, oh Thomas was so little. 

And if words were out that Thomas Wayne, barely five years old, was seeing a therapist ? The scandals would be unending, and would it really help your son ? 

Damian joined in in the search for a way to soothe his baby brother. He never said “no” to cuddles from him, but lately...Lately, Thomas almost became overbearing, as he made sure he’d always sort of have his eyes on everyone. 

And it wasn’t healthy, for such a little boy to worry so much. 

Damian missed his carefree baby brother. He knew he had to eventually grow up, of course, and that he’d have some hardships but...he was just five and a half ! He wasn’t suppose to be so scared of death ! 

And so he thought, nights and days, of a way to soothe him. But just like you and Bruce, this matter was quite delicate...

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

It seemed like Cass was the only one able to truly console him, and make him relax. She would sing him songs, just like you did to her when she felt sad. 

She would tell him tales of Death as a good thing, inspiring herself from many legends from around the world. 

She would try to put perspective on everything, in a way you truly admired. 

She never spoke too much, your Cass...But when she did, every words were carefully chosen and crafted into truly beautiful things. 

And it would soothe your boy. 

But only as long as he was with Cass. And he couldn’t always be with her. 

You didn’t have her talent to tell those tales, and your singing was working only for a few moments to put him to sleep but...you couldn’t always have him sleep. You had to think of more viable options. 

Nonetheless, when Thomas was really too anxious, Cass would be there. 

Relieving everyone of their worry, as she could calm her baby brother in matter of seconds. In those  moments, you wished time could stop. You truly did...

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

Thomas would cling to you and his dad the most. His siblings were often out and about, but you two ? Well you took some time off to be with your youngest son, to be there for him in this odd times...

And you weren’t sure it was such a good idea, in the end. 

He would often just snuggle up to you or Bruce, listening to your heartbeats, which would calm him...You’d normally never say no to hugs from your children. But this was all starting to become so unhealthy for the little one. 

What could you do ? What could you do ?!

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

Duke was panicking. 

Thomas was doing fine today, and Duke felt like he royally fucked up. 

Thomas was worried about Duke, telling him to be careful and that his heart would break if Duke ever died...Which melted Duke’s heart. 

It made him feel so loved and accepted. And he wanted to help little Thomas so much...

That’s when he made a rookie mistake. 

After all, he was still quite new at this “big brother” thing. 

“There are things worst than death.” 

Is what he told him. What was he thinking ? Reflecting on things, Duke realized he didn't think it through. To him, it was a soothing way to say death wasn’t that bad. But...Ah, ah it made Thomas cry. 

“What ? What is worst than not seeing you guys ever again ?!”  

At that moment, Duke hadn’t realized quite yet how much he fucked up. So he said : “Well, my parents can't remember me, can’t remember who they are...They’re not dead, but they’re not here anymore. They’re physically here, but they don’t know me, they don’t know how to hug me, they can’t be my parents anymore...Yet they’re still alive.” 

The horrified look on Thomas’ face is what gave him a hint that this really wasn’t a good thing to say...

“No no no wait Thomas, don’t cry please, I was trying to tell you...Wait Thomas, please, no. Oooh buddy, buddy I’m so sorry.” 

It almost made Duke cry too, to witness the one he considered his little brother in such distress. He wasn’t trained for this ! He wasn’t trained for this !!!

This was the first time Duke truly felt like an older brother, truly felt like he understood this important role. He had to think before saying something. He had to protect his baby brother. He had to find ways to soothe him...

“Ok here we are, here we are everything is a-okay, you’re ok, things will be ok...” 

Duke picked Thomas up, and started to rock him back and forth slowly, just like his own mom did to him...He mixed the way his mom used to put him to sleep, with your soothing singing. With words he borrowed from you. 

“I’m here, I’m here. Don’t worry I’m here, I won’t go anywhere. Things will be ok baby boy, things will be ok. You’re gonna be ok. I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t mean any of it...” 

Duke had been living with you for a while now. He came to see all of you as his second family, even as his parents were still alive, and a constant chain holding him back at times...a chain that broke right at this moment. 

Thomas was his little brother. He truly was. 

And Duke was determined to be there for him. Especially after he made him cry. 

“It’s ok Tommy, cry all you want. It’s ok to cry. It’s ok to cry.” 

You always told him that. It was ok to cry. To be angry. To want to break everything. To want his mom...

But you were his mom too now. You were. And you had such a way with words. Such a soothing touch. Even as he was grown up now, you always knew what to say. You always did. 

“You’re ok, right ? Yeaaaah you’re ok. See, things are fine, we chill, we chill.” 

Duke was slowly swaying from left to right, Thomas in his arm, slowly lulling him to sleep, calming him down. His voice seemed to have the same effect than yours...Because he was calm. And because he meant it.

The love. 

The love he had for this little boy. 

It poured out of him, easily, naturally. 

He loved that kid so much. And he wanted him to be ok. And it seemed like Thomas ? Thomas felt it. He felt the love. Just like Duke felt the love of all of you...

That little bean put himself in such a state at the mere thought of Duke dying, of one of his brother leaving...And Duke. Duke realized he felt the same. 

Couldn’t imagine any of them dying. 

And so he poured love in his every word, and swayed from side to side, calming Thomas, and making sure he knew...He knew that, he was right there. 

Right there. 

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

“You’re getting old, Alfred.” 

You said jokingly, as you beat him at chess. And oh. Oh what a mistake you just did. 

“Old ? I don’t want you to die Alfred, I don’t !” 

Thomas was playing next to you. You hadn’t thought about his “trauma” for a little while as he seemed to feel a little better lately...But oh, he plunged right back into it there. 

Because of you. You felt absolutely awful...

“I’ll fight Death for you Alfred ! I will ! I won’t let her take you !!” 

It took a while, as it became usual now, to calm him down. He was ready to throw hands with Death. Fierce that no one would take his “grandpa”. But he was still very scared and sad...

“I’m a terrible mother...”

You told Bruce that night. And he held you against him, consoling you, saying it wasn’t your fault and that it was just friendly banter with Alfred as usual...

“You are the literal opposite of a terrible mother, my love.”

“But Broosh, I made him- I-” 

You sniff, unable to control your sobs as you remember your poor little boy holding Alfred and yelling at Death she can’t take him. The poor butler himself didn’t even know how he could do anything to calm him down...

“We’ll find a solution my love, we’ll find a solution...” 

This entire night, Bruce stayed up although he was exhausted, so he could soothe you and take care of you. Skipping patrol (knowing though the city was safe with his children out). 

At some point during the night, Thomas came to your room. 

It was often, lately, that after a nightmare he’d come running to you. His nightmares would often be about losing you...

You had finally fallen asleep, in your husband’s arms, and Bruce gestured to your boy to not make too much noice. 

Sweet little Thomas acquiesced, and slowly came to the bed, taking the hand his father gave him. 

Bruce was about to fall asleep too, knowing you had finally found sleep...But now, he wasn’t going to. Not until he made sure his son was asleep as well. 

All he could do for now, was being there for you two. Try to soothe you as best her could. As best he could...

Sleep was restless and full of nightmares. 

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

Dick would try to often visit his parents and siblings. As much as he could, which wasn’t always easy, with his work in Bludhäven. But nothing is more sacred than family...He realized that over the years.

During those moments, it would be rather normal for Thomas to go settle in his oldest brother’s laps. He would make the most of seeing him.

So today, as Dick was in the kitchen trying to make himself a cup of coffee, it was no surprise when little Tommy came to see him.

You had bought a new espresso machine, and Dick had no idea how it worked...Slowly, his littlest brother came in, dragged a chair next to him, and used it to climb on the counter.

He then started to make Dick’s cup of coffee, without much of a word being exchanged. Dick smiled widely, his little bro was so cute and clever. In no time, he had make a great cup of coffee for him.

But...Something seemed to bother him. Tommy was an exuberant child when around his family, but he had been quiet right there. He didn’t jump in his brother’s arms like he usually does, and he wasn’t telling him all about what he missed since last time he came in !

Was it still this all thing about being worried about death ? 

“Are you ok little wing ?”

Ever since Jason, “Little Wing” or “Bird” became the common denomination for his younger siblings. A term of endearment that they all (secretly or not) loved.

Tommy seemed to think a little, while raising his arms, signifying he wanted Dick to pick him up.

Dick did, of course, and they went to sit at the kitchen counter, and as usual, Tommy settled down on Dick’s laps. He turned around and, after another short pause (Dick always knew when to stay silent, and wait for the other person to speak first) said :

“Dickie, are mom and dad not your mom and dad ?” 

“Mm ?” 

“Your real mom and dad, they died ? You can’t see them no more now ?”

There was a lump in Dick’s throat. Not because he thought about his parents no. He actually came to peace with their death long ago now. And though he missed them every day, it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. 

He was lucky to find another loving family...From which that little worried kiddo in front of him was an important part of. 

“Yes, I can’t see them anymore.”

“It hurts ?” 

“It used to. Now less. I miss them, but I wasn’t alone.”

“Because you have our mom and dad ?”

“Yes.” 

Dick ruffles his hair fondly. 

“Do you wish you’d still have your real mom and dad ?”

“Mom and dad ARE my real parents too. I was lucky enough to find new ones. Not everyone is as lucky, like dad. He was alone for a long time” 

“What about Alfred ?” 

“It took dad a while to realize that Alfred was a second father to him” 

“So...Will you be my second dad if dad goes ?” 

Dick feels another lump in his throat. Bigger this time. 

He couldn’t even imagine the day he’ll lose this “second dad”, this one he had now called “dad” for longer even than his own biological father...Dick was 8, when he came into yours and Bruce’s life. 

He spend more  years with you two than with his “real” parents. You never replaced them, no. You just..became his parents too. 

He would never forget his biological parents. But he would never diminish the impact his adoptive one had. The love you and Bruce gave him. 

Would he be good enough to be Thomas “second dad” ? After all, he currently had about the age Bruce had when he adopted him...

But Dick couldn’t imagine losing Bruce too. Losing another father. No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. 

Thomas was already moving on, asking more questions : 

“Will I find another mom and dad too if mom and dad die ? Or will I be alone like dad ? Will I have Alfred forever ?”

“I-I don’t know buddy.”

“What if I lose all of you at the same time ? I will be all alone then.” 

“You won’t.”

“But what if I do ?” 

“I’ll always be there.” 

“You can’t know that, can you ?” 

“Maybe, but this will never happen. You will never be alone.” 

“You really think so ?”

“I Do. And I promise little wing, I promise...You won’t lose all of us. You won’t.” 

Dick held his brother even tighter against him, and missed the unconvinced expression on Thomas’ face. 

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

Your youngest son was still utterly terrified of losing any of you. But his terrible fit would pass now, he would calm down more easily, and wouldn’t cry until exhaustion...But it didn’t mean he wasn't afraid anymore. 

Unfortunately. 

“Death” was still a constant on his mind. One of the biggest question. Without much answers. 

His mother and father said no one knew what happened after “death”, but Thomas wasn’t convinced. So he went to the only one he knew would tell him the truth, and was most likely to know...Tim.

His older brother was currently in the garden, studying for his finals. But oh he’d take a break for his little brother, of course. 

Especially lately, as said little brother was overly worried and needed constant reassurance. 

“Hi Timmy.” 

“Hey little one.” 

“Bothering you ?”

“You are not bothering me, never.” 

“Can I ask you a question then ?”

“Of course.” 

“What happens when we die ?” 

Oof. 

OOOOF. 

Not something Tim could say he expected to be asked. Even as he knew Thomas was sort of obsessed with this lately. And ah...Ah he started to get lost into physiological effects of death, into science, into things Thomas could definitely not understand...

And into things he didn’t care about. 

Thomas had no interest in knowing what happens to the corporeal side of things. To our bodies. He wanted to know where “we” went. Where the being went. The conscience. 

Of course he wouldn’t word it that way, but it was easy to understand that it was what he meant when he said : “where do we go when we die ?”. 

After a long time of Tim getting lost in many complex explanations about decomposition (what the Hell Tim ?), he finally stopped as he saw that Thomas was most definitely lost.  

“Where do we go after we die ?” 

“Yes. What happens ? You must know, you know everything !” 

The faith his littlest brother put in him made him feel warm inside but...unfortunately on this subject he had to disappoint him. 

“I..I don’t know about this, actually.” 

Thomas looked crestfallen. Was nothing sacred anymore ?? Death existed, and the one he thought would always have a solution to everything didn’t know something that important !! 

“There’s many theories.” 

“What’s a theories ?”

“One theory, multiple theories. A theory is...an idea of how things might work.” 

“What are the theory ?” 

“Theories, plural.” 

“What are the theories ?” 

“Well. Some people think that you go into some kind of afterlife. It depends the culture, and the religion, and...many other factors. But there’s usually a few places we can end up.” 

“And we’ll see the people who died there ? We’ll see them again ?” 

“Supposedly so.” 

“Is it sure ?”

“No, it’s just a theory.” 

“You said a theory is an idea of how things might work.” 

“An idea that might not be proven.” 

“What’s the point then ?” 

“Theorizing.” 

“I don’t understand...”

Of course he didn’t, he was a smart little boy...But still just five. Tim sat down to his level, and looked at him in the eyes : 

“Well. You have to understand that um...No one knows what happens after death. So we have to make theories, things that might or might not be. You understand ?” 

“No.” 

“Well, since we don’t know, we make things up. But maybe those things are right. Maybe they aren’t.” 

“So the answer is we don't know ?” 

“Yes. But there are theories ?” 

“Ok. So aside from the place we see others again, what are the theories ?” 

“Well (...)” 

Tim was a patient boy. For hours and hours, he tried to explain every single “theory” people might’ve had about what happens after Death. And Thomas listened carefully. 

Finally, Tim was done, and his brother said : 

“So...No one really knows, and there’s a lot of theory...ies. Theories.” 

“Basically.” 

Thomas looked so discouraged. Tim was very well aware that none of what he told him really helped his brother, or reassured him...But ah. Tim was known to not lie. Which was a good thing. And he couldn’t possibly have a free conscience if he had told his brother just one theory of the after life, the nicest one, just to reassure him. 

Of course, he wanted to reassure him. To distract him. But he would do so another way. Lying to him was not it. 

Still, it was so disheartening to see this sweet little boy so crestfallen. 

“Um, Well...I guess some people know.”

Thomas looked up at his brother, hopeful, waiting for him to continue. 

“Like Constantine. But um, he’s sort of crazy. And dad doesn't want him around the house for...reasons you’ll understand when you’ll grow up. And-”

Ah but Thomas wasn’t listening to Tim anymore, and his monologue as to why maybe John Constantine wasn’t such a reliable source.   

“Constantine” huh ? Interesting. Ah. Sometimes, Tim forgot how smart his little brother truly was...for a five years old. And how he took after his father, when it came to memory and attention to details. 

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

This constant worry went on for quite just a few days. A few very eventful days, that were so...exhausting. Thomas was constantly scared for your lives, and would cry if anyone got hurt too much. 

He would follow you around, and be way too stressed for such a little bean. 

Everyone came to hide their injuries from him, tried to distract him from what they were doing when out as the Bats...But it was becoming a real problem. 

How ? How could they make a little five years old understand that he couldn’t forever be afraid of death ? It was impossible. None of you, not even you, had the right words. There were no right words anyway. 

You could tell him whatever you wanted, it’d never make him stop thinking about Death taking one of you with her, taking one of you far away from him. 

“A place he cannot follow you to.” 

How ? How could you help ?!

But the change had to come from within him, you would soon realize. 

About a week after Ace’s death, and a truly painful few days of everyone being lost and unable to help the baby of the family... he suddenly spoke up, at dinner time : 

“Mama, mama, if one day you die, I will bring you back. I promise. Same for daddy, and Dick, and Jason, and Cass, and Tim, and Duke, and Damian, and Alfred. I don’t know if we can bring dogs back, but humans yes ? And worst case scenario, I’ll conjure your spirit so I can say goodbye, and then I’ll know we’ll see each others again !”

“Wh-What ?” 

“Stunned” doesn’t quite cover how you felt at your son’s sudden tirade, at dinner that night. Everyone was here, a rare occasion. Your one dinner a months that was mandatory for all your kids ! To make sure you’d all have moments together. 

And boom. Came this monologue out of nowhere, from your small little five and a half years old son. 

Stunned. Not a strong word enough to describe you, or your other children. 

But Bruce. Oh Bruce. Bruce was frowning. Narrowing his eyes in a way you knew perfectly well...It meant he was angry at someone. 

“Who told you all this, son ?” 

“Mister Constantine.”

A growl. A scary growl. From deep within your husband’s throat. You would NOT want to be John next time he’d see 

“How did you talk to him ?” 

“I used your phone.” 

“I don’t have his number on my...Wait, the bat phone ?!” 

“Yes. The one you call uncle Clark on !”

“What the-...how did you-ugh ?!” 

There were so many questions. So many. 

“I copied what you do, on the phone. And I asked it if it could call the Constantine.” 

“The Constantine”, this better not be a stupid way he called himself in front of his son, Bruce thought. Ah, and curse the fact he kept having kids that were too damn smart for their own good ! 

Kids this days. Growing up with technology. Able to work a batphobe at age 5 and a half !! 

“Hope I helped little man - John Constantine”, said the note that came to the manor a few days later. Which made Bruce fume with rage, but Thomas beam happily. 

Bruce was already planning to go after John, and force him to say what he told his son. But...But...

To be honest. Whatever he said. You didn’t care. You knew, more than anyone else, that “Death” wasn’t as definitive as it sounded at times. And you knew for certain there was something after you died. What ? You couldn’t be sure. But something. Another place. Or maybe reincarnation ? Who knew. 

Deep in your heart though, you knew that no matter what, if you ever were to die...You’d see your family again. You weren’t sure how or where. It was just a certainty in your heart. A gut feeling. 

Yes. You didn’t care what John told your son. If it could help him accept that everyone will die one day. Didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of losing you anymore. Oh no. But at least...At least he knew worrying about it lead nowhere. And to truly enjoy the moments of the present. 

Whatever John said, it helped your son. That’s all that mattered. And as Thomas would grow up, you knew he’d understand things more and more. 

He already knew he was luckier than many people. He had a loving family. They were all there with him for now (minus Ace, whom he missed every day). A lot of people couldn’t say the same thing. 

Death was an odd thing. Especially in the World you lived in. 

It wasn’t as definitive as some would say.

Your family knew that more than anyone else.  

Death was an odd thing, that wasn’t always the ultimate end...

This, one day, Thomas would truly understand. 

The end 

__________________________________________________

And here we are :). Just a quick thing again, my bigger story (fake boyfriend trope with Bruce hehe) is coming soon. But in the mean time, felt compelled to write about this. I hope you enjoyed reading it, and liked it ? Not my best work :/, another quick drabble written very late at night eh. But nonetheless, fun to write ? Hope it’s not a disappointment, it’s just a thing to make ya wait for a more elaborate thing that I took a lot of care writing. Anyway it’s 4 am, time for bed :).

If you did, don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback or/and to reblog :). If you didn’t as well really, it’s always good to know what’s not good so I can improve (just stay civil please). 

PS : Bonus point if you get where I’m trying to arrive at with those last few words about how definitive death is :p. 

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Feverish and Teary & How Long Has it Been Since You’ve Eaten- Prompt Fill

@thatonekidellis​ Jon, Tim, and Martin have a rough time after the Unknowing. Especially Jon.  I hope this is kind of what you were asking for?  

@janekfan​ you get a ping because this is your au!

CWs: nausea, vomiting, fainting, fever, food mention, alcohol mention, canon typical mentions of Tim's pre-unknowing mindset, canon typical Jon not taking care of himself.

I am still accepting bingo prompts, so let me know which character, which prompt, and if you want a drawing of a fic!  Bingo card by the wonderful @celosiaa​!  This one is twice my usual length because it is two prompts and I did not want to cheat!

The Unknowing blows up.  

As simple as that.  

All according to plan.  

It really is as simple as that.  

Jon, Tim, Daisy, Basira.  Piled back in Daisy's car.  Ears ringing.  Soot slowly settling.  Trying to drive away before the actually police get there.  

It hasn't been Jon's problem how to avoid arrest.  

He is even more glad it isn't his problem now, as he slides down the beat up seat in the back of Daisy's car.  Ash streaks the window, mixing with the light rains that is starting to fall.  

Jon tries not to vomit the nothing he's eaten in the last couple days.  Nothing in him but frayed nerves and statements.  Hadn't even managed to stomach dramamine before their trip.  

Jon just wants to sleep.  

They still have their hotel reservation for another couple hours, so Daisy drives them back there to clean up before heading back to London.  Yes they have to go back today, it's less suspicious.  Jon isn't sure if that is actually true, but he doesn't have the energy to argue.  

Tim showers.  Jon sends a text to Martin.  'Alive.'  

He doesn't answer Martin's near-immediate call because just then he's dry-heaving into the small bin in the corner.  Stiff and shaking and sweaty and miserable.    

Jon showers.  Too dizzy to stand, he sits on the shower floor.  He hates that.  The tub feels filthy.  He feels filthy.  He scrubs his skin raw.  He stands.  He throws up more nothing.  He scrubs himself again, leaning heavily on the wall.  

He wants to talk to Tim.  He wants to tuck himself into Tim's arms and never move again.  Christ, he's running an impressive fever.  Probably.  It's hard to tell.  And his brain is swimming too much to even think about asking the Eye.  

He's cold.  He shivers in his threadbare joggers and stolen jumper (Martin's).  

He wants to join Tim on the bed by the window, but Tim ...looks too deep in a melancholy thought to even notice.  Somewhere between losing his drive for anything, adrenaline crash, and losing the last hope of a last glimpse of Danny, if Jon were to guess.  

Jon could say something.  He knows he could.  But, hasn't he caused enough of a fuss?  Made Tim and Martin trail after him after the ...the.... with Daisy and... that.  If he'd have just stayed quiet and stayed still... well Tim would still hate him... and might not be alive... but ....but he's caused so much worry with that.  And then with... his other kidnapping No.  He can't think about what that... what... not without puking again which... the point is not to worry Tim.  Which means he should try some medicine again.... if he can keep it in him half an hour he'll survive the drive back.  Probably.  

Christ, when is the last time he bothered to drink anything?  

He lays there in a daze until Daisy bangs on the door telling them it's time to leave.  

Tim sleeps on the drive back.  Finally giving into the last few sleepless nights.  Jon is jealous.  

Last night had been spent tangled together, shaking, awake, and silent.  Anxiety too thick to slice with words.  Not even nothing to turn off the lights, because the fear is a little easier to manage in the light.  Jon couldn't stop thinking about Nikola.  He couldn't stop thinking about plastic hands on him.  Couldn't stop thinking about how many things could go wrong and how he could lose Tim and Martin when he only just got Tim back.  

Jon was pretty sure Tim hadn't been sleeping the last few nights.  Jon knows he hasn't.  Not that he has slept well in a long time.    

In any case, Tim sleeps.  Jon doesn't.  

Daisy glares at him through the review mirror.  Jon isn't sure if she is still waiting for him to prove himself monstrous so she can attack, or if she is making sure he isn't ill in her car... again.  (He really wishes he could forget his first ride in her car.  Really really really wishes.  It was not a pleasant experience for anyone, and Daisy had made him pay the cleaning bill.)  

It doesn't matter, he slides down further in his seat and closes his eyes tightly.  

His head hurts.  

Thankfully the medicine knocks him out soon enough.  

Martin greets them at the institute door.  Melanie by his side.  

Jon hazily wakes up to Martin gently touching his shoulder.  

"You actually made it!  I'm so glad you're safe... I was so worried, Jon why didn't you answer your phone, I've been so worried, I mean I know you would have said something if something had happened, but Christ I've been so worried about you, come here."  

Jon starts mumbling some apologies, but is interrupted by Martin gently gathering him in a hug.  Jon sinks into it, fervently hoping Martin doesn't notice the heat rolling off of him.  

Thankfully Martin is too distracted, gathering Tim in a crushing embrace.  Likely very relieved that Tim didn't die, and knowing Tim is harder to break than Jon with his delicate bones and fragility following many incidents.  

Jon... doesn't really know what he's trying to accomplish.  Just... get out?  Or go in?  Or get to the cot?  Or just curl up on the cold tile of the basement toilets?  Get away from people he will inevitably worry?  

Just go somewhere where he can fall apart without taking anyone else down with him.  

It looks like Martin has been crying.  Jon hopes it isn't over him.  

Tim needs to recover from the emotional toll of the last few days without having to pick up the pieces after Jon Again.  

Jon slowly backs away.  

His head is swimming, but that's okay.  If he can just reach the Archives.  The cot.  Anywhere.  Anywhere away from this moment.  This breath.  

His vision swims violently, and there is no doubt in his mind that he is going to be very well acquainted with the pavement in a matter of seconds.  Either that or he's going to be ill?  No.  Sidewalk.  He's going to eat the sidewalk.  Heh... first thing he'll have eaten in days.  

He isn't sure if he loses consciousness or not.  It's hard to tell in the blur of motion and sounds and his spinning head.  Sound is almost gooey in this state of almost unconsciousness, but he thinks someone might be shouting.  Or several someones.  He should maybe worry about this?  But in actuality, he is praying he properly passes out to save himself any more embarrassment and save himself from his unsteady insides.  

His face hurts.  

Someone is holding him.  

Jon fights to open his eyes.  They don't seem to want to look in the same direction, rolling in their sockets instead of doing what he wants them to.  He blinks hard a few times, failing to bring things into focus.  Glasses?  Does he still have those?  Did they break?  No... still there.  Skewed on his face.  Just... too dizzy to see, then.  

Daisy and Basira are glaring at him.  Melanie is walking away.  Possibly.  Hard to tell when the world is tilting with unsteady regularity.  

Jon closes his eyes again, pressing a groan against the nausea that threatens to overcome him, despite the medicine.  

"Jon?"  

"Burning up."

He's too hazy to put a name to a voice.  The words dripping in the air around him, tightening around his chest, silly string sitting on his skin in fibrous heaps that jiggle uncomfortably, cold and clammy.  

Shit, thinking in gibberish.  That can't be good.  

“Does anyone know how long he’s been ill?”  

Someone grunts.  

Footsteps.  Two sets?  I’m asking away.  Leaving him.   

“I.... I don’t know.  I don’t think he was feverish last night?  But... I haven’t exactly been... It’s.  It’s been hard.”

“Jon?”

He’s being jostled.   He whines.  Stomach flopping dangerously.   

"Jon?  Are you awake?  Can you open your eyes for me?"  

"Oh shit, he's gonna puke."  

He's being lifted, shifted on his side, bin shoved in his hands.  Where he throws up more nothing.  

He's crying now, feeling like utter shit, and unfortunately more awake.  

He isn't sure if eyes swimming with tears is better or worse than the unsteady world tipping around him and making him feel worse.  

"Christ, Jon!"  

He finally pries his eyes open.  Martin and Tim solidify above him.  More or less.  Still fuzzing in and out of focus.  

Now that he's crying, he just... can't stop.  Fistfuls of Martin's sweater.  

"Oh Jon..."  Martin's arms circle him, carefully.  Gentle not to jostle him more.  

"Buddy.  Think we can get you off the sidewalk?"  Tim.  Cupping his face.  Smoothing back sweat and tear soaked hair, long since escaped his bun, still not dried from his earlier shower.  "My flat isn't far, you know?  Didn't bring my car here, though.  Still... wasn't..."

Tim cuts himself off, but even addled as he is, Jon can fill in the rest of the sentence.  

So can Martin apparently, because Martin frowns.  It's never been more apparent that he's been crying quite recently.  "Still weren't sure you were coming home...  Tim..."  And his eyes start looking damp.  

Tim is tearing up now.  "Martin... let's not in the street...  I can carry Jon back to mine, it isn't far.  You can come too.  We'll get some take out.  Drink some whiskey.  Get Mr. Smoking hot cooled off.  We can talk then.  It's.... it's been a rough week."  

"Jon?  Can I carry you?  I think that might be less rough than a cab ride?  Do you need a few minutes?"  

Martin's voice is soft, and Jon thinks he could sleep right there.  In fact, he might.  So he nods.  

Martin lifts him carefully.  His head swims again.  This all is feeling rather familiar.  Jon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.  He tries to relax despite the lingering anxieties about heights.  Martin feels safe.  Tim is also safe now.  He lets himself drift.  

He wakes briefly on the trip.

"Hey bud, how are you feeling?"  Tim.  Tim seems off.  Too many things crossing his face to parse out, probably even for someone with a better sense than Jon of what those subtle face changes mean.  But Jon is too hazy to think.    

Jon's mouth feels gummed up.  His eyes feel gummed up.  

He's thankful his mouth doesn't taste like something died in it, though.  Although he is very aware how unhealthy it was that he's spent a good portion of the day with his body trying to turn itself inside out, and he couldn't so much as produce bile.  

Jon feels sick thinking about it, so stops.  He drifts again.  

He wakes to a damp rag on his forehead, no memory of anything past the explosion. 

How did he get here? 

"Sorry, that looked like a nice sleep, but you'll feel better with some medicine in you, and some water.  We can try some tea later, once the meds work.  And some food hopefully."  

Martin helping him sit up.  Just enough to get a few sips and some pills into Jon.  Which, Jon thought was probably optimistic, but he'd try it for Martin.  

"When was the last time you ate?" Martin again.  

Jon blinks at him in confusion.  "Is it over?"  

"Is what over?"  Still Martin.  

Where's Tim?  Where's Daisy?  Where's Basira?  Where's Melanie?

His breathing picks up, and that makes his head spin again, and makes him wonder just how long he can keep the medicine down.  

"Is it over, what happened?"  He's panting now, halfway to a panic attack.  

"Jon?  Jon!  Calm down.  Can you take a breath for me?"  

How did he get here?  Where is he?  This looks like Tim's flat, but there is Tim?  Did he survive.  

Jon reaches for anything.  But comes up blank.  

"Where's Tim?  What happened?"  He gasps out.  It feels like his ribcage is shrinking, being laced up the front. fighter than the corset he had worn in acting class in uni.  

"Tim's... taking a moment.  As soon as we got you here... he.... it's been rough on him, you know?  He did all this for... and I know he said he wanted to live.  He wants to live... but he's... not been in a good place and it's helped that you two are talking again... and that he's had company more... but he saw an old picture with.... with his brother.... and that polaroid with ... with Sasha.  Well, he keeps going between you know tearful and sorry and cackling about how everything blew up.  It's... probably a lot to have three revenge schemes going at once for the same.... not a person really... but ... Her.  And then... having it sorted.  But...  Listen Jon I don't know.  What don't you remember... or what's the last thing you remember?"  Martin edges on histerical near the middle, but takes a turn for the sad near the end.  

"I remember the... the world was all wrong.  Then... then it blew up.  Is it over?  Martin are you real.  Is everyone alive?  What happened to you?"  He's desperate.  Desperate breaths too shallow.  Words interrupted by jagged pulling of too thin oxygen.  He's going to pass out.  

He does.  

He wakes feeling... clearer.  The last period of wakefulness a distant and flighty thing, dancing just out of his reach.  The rest of the embarrassing day back in vivid detail.  Tim's sitting over him.  Or rather, curled around him.  Jon's hair is being played with.  A stray curl looped around Tim's finger as he laughs softly to himself.  Muttering that he's alive.  That Jon's alive.  That Martin is alive.  he didn't lose anyone else.  That that clown is finally dead.  Finally.  

Gentle and warm hand on his face, refreshing the cloth.  Checking his temperature.  

"I..."  Tim chokes on a sob.  And Jon tries to remember how his arms work so he can let Tim know he's there.  

"Tim?"  

"Hey bud... sorry."  Tim wipes his eyes on his sleeve.  "It's been a hell of a week.  I... don't know how to feel about it.  Fuck I need a drink....  And to check in with Martin.  I... he hasn't told me what happened, but he's upset.  And.  Fuck I should have noticed you were ill, why didn't you say anything?"  Tim's voice starts to rise, and Jon tenses.  All the times Tim yelled at him still too fresh in his mind.  He trusts Tim.  he does... but Christ he is still afraid.  Afraid that it can't last, that it isn't real.  Where it be a trick of his mind, or some manipulation tactic to an end Jon can't see, he doesn't know.  

"Hey.  Hey.  Buddy... Jon.  I'm sorry.  didn't mean to yell.  It's just... been a day.  I'm not mad at you.  I just... I'm worried about you and Martin and I...I don't know how to feel about everything that happened.  I'm sorry you feel like shit."

Jon feels... like shit.  Marginally less nauseous, however.  A little less like he's going to pass out again.  Probably been given plenty of pills by Martin.  

"Sorry."  He croaks.  Voice probably shredded with smoke.  And fever.  

"He, bud, don't apologize.  I'm sorry I didn't notice you weren't well.  I... I thought I knew better than to be that preoccupied.  I mean... I guess I didn't make it worse this time, but..."  Tim sighs.  "I'm disappointed in myself because I don't want to fuck this up again.  And no don't apologize again part of that was on me and yes part of that was on you and we've done apologies to death.  All we can do now is keep going.  I just wanted to protect you and I couldn't see you were fading in front of my eyes.  Again.  I know you haven't been eating or sleeping, but I haven't been either so I didn't want to call you on it, and I didn't want you to call me on it, but I should have noticed.  I know I couldn't have done much, but I didn't do anything but shut you out again.  I could have told someone to stop to get you medicine, or food or even a bit more rest.  I know that would have done fuck-all, but I still could have offered you a little comfort and warmth and had us brought straight back here."  

Tim's crying properly now.  Jon is too.  Not sure if it is the fever, or just... everything.  There is so much to feel and think and worry about and yes they saved the world but that the fuck comes next.  

What comes next is that Martin enters with tea for Jon and a bottle of whiskey.  

Jon scrubs at his eyes.  "Martin what happened?"  Jon can see he's been crying again.  That is starting to scare him.  It's a goddamn miracle he hasn't pulled an answer out of anyone yet today.  

"It's... well it isn't fine.  I... well our plan worked here too.  Just... you know... Elias.  He can.... He can do things.  It's fine.  It's worth it."  Martin swipes at his eyes furiously.  

Jon pushes himself up, ignoring the room tilting around him, and hugs Martin.  Jon's still crying.  Martin sniffling.  Tim also crying.  It's... a very damp hug.  And Jon knows he's too warm to be comfortable to hold, and he's shivering hard enough to rattle Tim and Martin.  

"I'm... I'm so sorry Martin."  Jon chokes out.  

"It's alright.  It was worth it.  And you both.  Christ I am so glad to see you again... I thought... I thought.... I didn't..."  Martin is fully sobbing now.  Tea set down on Tim's bedside table, the whiskey being pried from his hands by TIm.  

Late that night the bottle is empty (and so are a couple more), Tim and Martin have killer headaches, and Jon is still feverish, but less so.  A lot of tears have been shed.  And Jon has been plied with enough liquids that he feels a little less like a crumbling husk.  

By the time that Tim and Martin are ready to think about food, Jon is finally feeling like he can maybe stomach something.  They order takeout.  Jon... has some broth. 

By morning Jon manages a few bites of leftovers.  

By afternoon, Elias Bushard is arrested.  

[catxsnow]

TRUTH BE TOLD D.G & J.T.

Request:  Alright homeslice hear me out: dick x reader x jason love triangle. And reader is so oblivious and doesn't realize it. One night they're fighting someone and reader gets hit with like a love/truth spell and BAM angst and fluff galore

Warning: Fluff, Angst, swears

A/N: I hate love triangles but I made an exception just this once. I’m sorry about this ending. 

Also if you don’t know, Klarion is a bratty Witch Boy. Pretty much all you need to know for this lol. Also I love Zatanna, okay I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST HER it was just for the plot. 

GIF not mine

Word count: 4.2k

Damian was tired. He was tired of seeing his brothers so ridiculously pine over you. First off, you were far too beautiful to stoop as low as them. Secondly, they continuously tried to gain your attention that has made them look like narcissistic idiots. Whether it was trying to show of their muscles with some sort of cool move or prove their intellect, they tried everything.

You didn't work with Batman full time until moving to Gotham. It was the occasional team up that got Dick and Jason absolutely infatuated with you. When they heard that you were moving to Gotham for good? Well, they were in the least to say, very, very excited. Even with Dick in Bludhaven most the time and Jason off fighting around the world, it was a hell of a lot easier to see you when they came home.

Much like Bruce and his family, you were just human. No powers, no magic, just someone who wants to see the world a better place. Maybe that was the reason that Batman trusted you so easily - well as much as he trusted anyone. Being human meant that you had weaknesses, a lot of them.

One of those weaknesses included being completely oblivious to people's feelings about you. Most of your life you were cut off from emotions. If you wanted to do a good job of cleaning up cities from crime, you couldn't be distracted by caring for others. Year after year you told yourself it was just part of the job.

Until you moved to Gotham. Becoming part of the Bat-team made you realize that it was okay to let people in, even just a little bit. If the great Batman himself cared for a select few of people, why couldn't you? Damian had become the annoying little brother to you, Tim as well. It was with Jason and Dick where things became more complicated.

The two men had obvious feelings for you - everyone was aware about it except for you. They were allured by your skills, beauty, talents, and genuine selflessness. Night after night they had an endless war of trying to see who you would choose. You hadn't noticed either of their attempts at this, to you they were just being friendly.

This was why Damian was tired of it. You didn't even know about their feelings and yet they still fought about it when you weren't around. Jason and Dick would yell at each other, trying to prove who deserved you more. Bruce and Alfred had to pull them apart before things got escalated nearly every time.

It had been going on for years, and even though they both had been in and out of relationships over the years, it seemed that the end goal was always you.

"I'm getting really fucking sick of this guy!"

It was supposed to be an easy mission, in and out before anyone could even see you. Of course, things had to go wrong. Klarion the Witch Boy had been hiding within the shadows and the second that he laid eyes on you, all hell broke loose.

Objects were thrown in your direction constantly and it was becoming a struggle to continue to dodge them all. There was no way that you could get a clear shot on him with his force field protecting him and his stupid cat. No matter how many explosives and sharp objects you threw his way, there was no chance of getting to him.

It was against your wish that you had to call in for back up. After being on your own for this mission, you were quick to realize that Klarion was far too powerful for you to take down on your own. Bruce and Damian arrived as fast as they could to help you, the others were unfortunately busy with missions and couldn't come to you even if they wished to.

Their entrance had distracted you for only a sliver of a second, but that time was all Klarion needed to cast the first spell he could think of off the top of his head. A red blast protruded from the palm of his hand and went straight towards you. It hit your right in the chest and the force of it pushed you painfully into the nearest wall.

Your head smacked against the cement and black spots covered your vision because of it. As you tried to push yourself up off the ground, you could see Klarion getting away. He wasn't prepared for a fight against Batman himself. Your arms collapsed from below you and you didn't have the energy to even sit up.

The last thing you saw was Robin running towards you with worry on his face.

><

You woke up to bright lights. The small med bay that Bruce had in the cave was always lit up and each time you were stuck there you always wished he'd get different lights that didn't hurt to look at. The groan that you admitted while sitting up caught the attention of those who had stuck around for you to wake up.

Jason, Dick, and Damian were all there waiting for you to recover from the spell that Klarion had cast upon you. They were still unsure what he had done to you, but if you didn't seem to be in any danger from it, at least nothing that would be permanent. They wouldn't know until you woke up.

The three boys hovered over you, watching your every movement. "The last thing someone wants to see waking up is your ugly faces," you joked. The three of them rolled their eyes nearly in sync as they gave you some space. "What happened?"

"Klarion hit you with a spell," Damian informed you. "How do you feel?"

"My headache feels worse than the time that I showed up hungover for patrol with Bruce. Also, I’ve got the weirdest craving for a PB and J," You blurted out. Your eyes were wide at your answer - you definitely didn't mean to say that out loud. "What the fuck. I didn't mean to say that. What did that Witch Rat do to me?"

"We don't know," Jason answered. He glanced between you and Dick. Both of them wanted to hold you in their arms, to make sure that you were safe with them. Neither of them made a move to do so, not when they didn't know what was wrong with you. "Do you feel any different?"

You shook your head. You felt fine. Your body wasn't that sore and you didn't feel sick in any sort of way. Hopefully, his spell was nothing but a distraction to get out of there and not something that would leave you suffering for the rest of your life.

"Maybe we should call Zatanna, she might be able to figure out what he did to you. What do you think?" Dick offered. If anyone could figure out a magic spell, it would be her. Your thoughts immediately went to the time that she and Dick had briefly dated and your mind went sour.

"Zatanna was never good enough for you Dick, you always deserved better than her. She's a liar, and a sneak," you said aloud. This time, your hands physically covered over your mouth from what had just come out of it. There was no way that you intended to say that out loud.

"Whoa, (Y/N)," Jason held his hands up in defense. You were never one to be snippy with other people. There were the time that you got annoyed and flipped on them, but never behind their backs like this. What the hell was going on with you? "Tell us how you really fell," he continued to joke around.

"I feel like sometimes I meant to be alone in this life. That I'll never be good enough to have someone love me because of the things that I've done, the people I've killed. It's come to the point where I don't feel like I deserve to wear this suit because of how aggressive I've become while in it."

You one again held your palm of your mouth. Where did this come from? Why did you just reveal your darkest insecurities to them? Insecurities that you could barely admit to yourself, much less someone else. Even if you did trust these boys with your life, you didn't always trust them with your feelings.

"What the fuck!" you screeched. Whatever Klarion had done to you, it was taking effect. You would never say anything like this, everyone knew that. You were reserved when it came to any emotions, maybe just as bad as Bruce himself. The surprised look on the boy's face had made you feel even more embarrassed for what you said.

The shock quickly turned to pity. They had no idea that you felt that way about yourself. Dick and Jason both wanted nothing more than to just tell you how they felt, to assure you that you were worthy of love. They might not have had the cleanest slates either, but you still deserved to have someone love you.

"Klarion put a truth spell on you," Bruce had joined the four of you. You hadn't even noticed him arrive and wondered how much of that he had heard. Bruce knew that you had killed before, but he also knew how it tore you up at night and that it wasn't something that you were proud of. "You're lucky he didn't kill you."

"Because you think I can't do things on my own, don't you?" You questioned with hostility in your voice. "I didn't mean that. Yes I did. Bruce! Fix this!" You had a turmoil within you. No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself from blurting out how you truly felt, you couldn't do it.

Bruce said nothing else, but nodded once before leaving. As soon as his father left, Damian gained a bit of an evil look in his eyes. Before you could even try to stop him, he had already started talking. Truth spell that you couldn’t resist answering? He was going to have a lot of fun with that.

"Did you eat the last slice of cake and blame it on Jason?" Damian asked. There was no way that he wasn't going to take advantage of this situation with you, but he wanted to start off with easy questions to see how powerful this spell really was. You should have known that he was going to do this.

The list of questions that any of them could ask you was horrendously long. The more you thought about it, the more you really did have to hide from them. You were pretty secretive and without being able to hold back the truth, they could find out everything from you if they wanted to.

"Yes," you told them. Jason's gained a look of hurt at your words. "Damian was holding a knife! What else was I supposed to say. He scares me." Damian looked content with your truth about him.

"When I lost my helmet a month ago, was it you that took it?" Jason narrowed his eyes. It had disappeared only for a day. When he checked the next time, it was in the exact same spot that he left it. For a while, he assumed that he had just been too sleep deprived but the more he thought about it, the more he knew that someone had to have taken it.

"Yes," You told him. "I wanted to see what the tech was like but then I kind of was having fun and didn't want to take it off. I also stole your sweater when I went over too, it's still in my room but I don't want to give it back. And I took the left overs in your fridge and left the note so you would think it was Roy."

Jason scoffed and shook his head at your answer. He wasn't expecting you to admit so much to one question but he was glad that he asked. The things he was dying to ask you, he knew that he couldn't with everyone else there as well. He had to restrain himself from asking, the answers that were just at the ready for him were so tempting.

"Why does Alfred the cat hate you?" Damian leaned his body closer to you. You felt intimidated under his stare but no matter how hard you bit your tongue you couldn't stop yourself from answering again.

"He wouldn't leave me alone so I threw him in the water fountain in the garden."

Dick and Jason couldn't help but laugh at that one. Damian looked furious at your answer but you had paid for your mistake. Cat scratched lined your arms for the next week.

“Do you sleep naked?” Jason raised an eyebrow. The questions were surely going to get a lot more personal and if they weren’t surrounding you, you already would have made your escape. Unfortunately, you felt too weak to push them away and there was no way you could outrun them. 

“Sometimes,” you answered. The truth spell didn’t seem to be quite content enough with that answer and made you spew out more unforgettable words. “Yes, all the time.” 

"Wait, wait," Dick stopped his brothers as they both opened their mouths to ask even more questions. Though there was so much that he wanted to ask you, he knew that it was wrong to do so. "This is mean, we can't take advantage of (Y/N) like this. She has the right to her own privacy."

"Thanks, Dick," you half smiled at him. You appreciated that someone stepped up to stop anything from happening that you would regret.

"But," Dick continued. Your eyes widened at what he was going to say next. You were sure that they could hear the rise in your heart rate and the see the beads of sweat form on your forehead. being unable to hide what you wanted to say made you more scared than half the missions ever did.

Dick wanted nothing more than to ask you the question they had all been thinking: Jason or Dick? He wanted to know once and for all who it was that you cared for more and which one of them had a real chance with you. This back and forth arguing with Jason was tiring him out. He didn't, it didn't seem right to ask you this question against your will.

"You hooked up with Roy when we were part of the Teen Titans didn't you?"

"After every mission."

Between Damian's disgusted face at you, along with Jason wondering how Roy ever managed to hook up with you, and Dick's disappointment, you could tell that this was not the answer that they were wanting to hear. They wanted to know why you had hooked up with Roy rather than either of them.

Truth was, they just never asked.

><

It had been days and the spell still hadn't worn off. Everyone in the manor kept forgetting about your truthfulness. It was the simple, mundane questions that they didn't expect you to be so open about.

How was your sleep? Who forgot to make coffee? Why is there no milk left? You had openly admitted to them that you were on your period and would much rather take a bullet to the chest than go through this every month.

The worst time had to be when Steph asked about her outfit. She simply wanted another woman's opinion and had completely forgot about your open honesty. After that morning she vowed never to ask about an outfit from you ever again. You felt terrible for saying such awful things to her.

Each question got a very snippy, very truthful answer which you felt bad about. Thankfully, no one teased you anymore about asking ridiculous questions about yourself that you weren't wanting to share. Bruce had scolded his kids for being rude to you - you were a guest in their home until all this was over.

Since you were staying there, that also meant that Dick and Jason had decided to hang around as well. Although you were worried they were still going to ask you certain questions, you were glad to have their company. It had been a while since you had spent time with them outside of missions.

The two heroes were starting to lose their patience with each other. Jason wanted to ask you how you felt about them, it was the perfect time in his eyes to ask. There was no way that you could lie about your feelings and they would finally know the truth after all these years. Whoever you picked, would put an end to this war.

Dick on the other hand, saw this as too much of an invasion to your privacy. If you were going to pick one of them you either would have said something already, or weren't ready to admit it. Forcing you to reveal your feelings seemed like something you would hold against them forever.

Which had brought on another fight between the men. They yelling had caught your attention from your room, but it was the loud crash that followed that made you run downstairs to see what the fuss was about.

Damian stood between Jason and Dick, both of which had a vicious look in their eyes. If there was nothing blocking them, you were sure that they would be right in the middle of a fist fight. Damian looked relieved to see you standing there.

"I'm tired of this useless nonsense," Damian scowled. "(L/N), if you were going to date either of them, which on of these imbeciles would you choose?"

That was a question you had been dreading to be asked. Both men played an important role in your life. They were your best friends, your family. Each of them supported you in their own ways and you would always be thankful for everything that that have done for you. But having to pick a favourite? You didn't want to have to do that.

Jason was the kind of person that would stand up for you no matter what. After everything that he went through with Bruce, he knew that he could be a hardass at times. Jason protected you from things that you didn't even realize you needed protecting from. He kept you sane in this crazy world that you lived in.

Dick managed to always brighten your day on the worst lows you had. He had his ups and down in life and he knew how hard it was to get out of those valleys just by yourself. Without him, you weren't sure what kind of endless pit of self-destruction you would be in. He was there for you when you needed him most.

"I..." you stuttered over your words. These past few days, you hadn't had the choice to think about what you wanted to say. Whatever you felt deep within your heart and mind was the only option that you were allowed to say out loud. Now, you felt a relief in your chest, the ability to say whatever you so choose, not the deep, hidden truth within.

"I don't have to answer that," you told the three of them. Jason and Dick had egarely been waiting for your answer, it was all that they wanted to know within the past few years. Who would you pick? You did you think would treat you better. The questions had been on the tip of their tongues all week and it was finally Damian who had caved. "I think the spell's worn off."

"What?" All three of them nearly screeched. This was the one question that they had been dying to ask you and now that they finally did it, they would never get the real truth out of you. They had missed their shot.

"No, there's no way," Dick argued. He looked panicked, Damian had admitted that the two fought over you and now that they got the chance to see what your choice really was, it was taken right from the palm of their hands. "What was the most embarrassing thing that happened to you out on patrol?"

The tightness in your chest that you felt when you had been asked questions didn't appear. You didn't feel the need to blurt anything out either. The spell that Klarion cast on you was finally out of your system, and just in time too. You didn't want to know what would have happened if you had answered that question.

Truth be told, you didn't even know the answer.

You shrugged to answer Dick's question - of course you could remember the most embarrassing things that happened to you, it was engraved in your mind for the rest of your life. Without another word, you grabbed your mug of coffee and headed over to the three of them. You kissed the top of Damian's head - to which he grumbled about it.

Damian left the three of you - there was no way that he wanted to be part of whatever was going to happen next.

"(Y/N)..." Jason trailed off. He didn't even know what he wanted to tell you. He wanted to be honest, to tell you that he loved you since the day that you had told him off. He loved the way that you protected everyone no matter the cost but still ruthless against your foes. He loved everything about you.

How was he supposed to compete with someone like Dick? The golden child. Mr. Perfect. There was no way that you would ever pick him over Dick, so why did he keep getting his hopes up? Why had he fought for so many years for your affection? That was what love was all about, he just didn't know it.

"How long has this been going on?" You asked. For years, you had no idea that they had feelings for you. Dick was the biggest flirt you knew, you had just gotten used to it. Jason was always kind to you, you assumed that he was just being the protective friend over you. All these years you were oblivious to how they felt.

"Years," Dick answered briefly. Just like Jason, he wanted to tell you his true feelings. There was nothing more that he wanted than for you to pick him. But how was he supposed to compete with someone like Jason? You were more like his younger brother than you were ever like him, that was how he assumed that you guys got along so well.

Jason was always the person that you leaned on when things were getting rough. He knew how to make you feel better about the terrible things you had done because he had done just the same. Dick was never able to fully understand the difficulties that you went through, not like Jason. After all these years, why did he keep trying?

You sighed, followed by rubbing a hand down your face. That wasn't the answer that you wanted to hear. After knowing them for half your life, you felt like an idiot for not knowing that they were feeling this way. The answer that you gave them about Roy, their reaction to it, it finally made sense. They weren't disgusted, they were disappointed that it wasn't them.

Back then, when you felt like your heart couldn't be broken and that you would never break someone else's, you would have happily had put either of them in Roy's place. Now? Now, the three of you were adults, vulnerable to heartache and mistrust. You were glad that neither of them had gotten the chance.

"I would take a bullet for either of you - I have taken one," You sat down on one of the stools that sat at the kitchen island. Both of them stood before you, waiting for you answer. The anxiety in the room had never been so high before and for the first time in your life, you felt uncomfortable under their gaze.

"And you both know that I care about you, a lot. That's something that's never going to change," you continued on. "There is no one that I trust more with my life than the two of you... But I don't think I could ever trust either of you with my heart. I'm sorry."

You stood up from your spot on the chair. The heartbroken look on their faces nearly broke you. You didn't want either of them to hurt from your answer. The last last thing that you ever wanted to do was hurt them. You loved them both, it was just never the way that they wanted to be loved by you.

With as much delicacy as you could muster through your shaking hands and wobbling chin, you placed a kiss on each of their cheeks. The men leaned into your touch, soaking up every ounce of you that they could get.

"You know that I love you both," You spoke once more just before exiting the room. Your back was facing them, turning around meant that you would have to put on a brave face and that wasn't something you were sure you were capable of. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks - whatever friendship you shared with them, it was going to be different now. 

You were all adults, something like this shouldn’t change a friendship that had been lasting for years. Yet, if they had been arguing over you since they were young, you were sure that their teenage mentality of this whole situation would overpower their adult intuition. 

"You deserve better than me, you deserve someone that's going to love you unconditionally. I want you both to be happy, without me."

Truth was, they never would be.

[elareine]

Sorry if i'm late, but if you still accept requests... could you please write time/dimension travel with jaytim?

You weren’t late, anon :) Sorry, this ended up being more about everyone being too tired to care about the time travel than about the travel itself... I might be projecting.

There are two strangers in the Batcave. Bruce would be less alarmed by that if the two men hadn’t just disarmed his entire alarm system with the code reserved for family. 

“Hey, Bruce, long time no see,” the shorter man greeted him in something like a friendly manner. The other snorted. 

Bruce kept the cowl on. “Do we know each other?” 

That got him a strange look. “Uh, yeah? I’m Tim? Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten about me.” 

Bruce could feel a headache starting because yes—now that he was looking for it, this man in front of him could very well be Tim. The bone structure of his jaw, his eyes, the pear-shaped scar inches from his jugular—it all fit. That meant… “Time travel?” 

“Yup.” “Got it.” 

“So you are…”

“Yeah, that’s me,” the taller man—Jason—agreed, nodding toward the glass display. “I still hate that thing, btw.” 

Don’t start that argument now, Bruce. “And you traveled back in time because…?” 

“Right. We’re here to tell you not to bother about that robbery on 3rd Street anymore. The culprit has been apprehended.” 

“…and hopefully prevented from starting the zombie apocalypse.” 

Bruce frowned. “You didn’t need to tell me that.” Not finding the suspect for that particular crime wouldn’t have sounded alarms for him. Petty criminals had a tendency to vanish in Gotham. 

“Nah, but we got a few more hours here until we can return; thought we’d make the most of it.” 

“Hey, Jay, wanna see how our young counterparts are doing?” 

“Thought you’d never ask, babybird.” 

—

Jason considered being surprised by his future self standing in the living room. 

…Nah. That was just a regular Tuesday at this point. It was weird that future-him was holding hands with the older version of the Replacement, but Jason was kinda too wiped to care. 

“God, kid, we really needed some better furniture,” his older self told him.  

Jason watched as they took stock of the apartment. “Don’t open the fridge,” was all the warning he gave. Older-him clearly remembered, too, because he grimaced and nodded. 

Finally, Tim turned to his companion. “Okay, I knew you were a sad-sack back then, but this passivity is a bit much.” 

Older-Jason was visibly squirming. It was bizarre to watch. “Uh. This was about two weeks after Bruce beat the shit out of me, and I could still barely move, so…” 

“Oh, babe,” Tim whispered, leaning up on his tiptoes to kiss him. 

Which, yeah, really weird and way too much PDA for his living room, but… Jason had no idea what he’ll do to deserve someone looking at future him like that, but maybe, he thought, that was worth trying for. 

—

Honestly? Tim was just surprised that he apparently made it to sixty.

“I’m forty-nine!” older-him exclaimed. “Are you… insulting yourself?” 

“If anyone can do it, it’s you,” the guy that was apparently the older version of Jason and also Tim’s husband told him affectionately. 

Tim was too tired for this shit. Luckily, Dick was here to be confused on his behalf. “How did that even happen?” 

“What? The grey hairs, the handsomeness, the amazing marriage…” 

“That.” Dick pointed. “The… marriage. Though I don’t know about amazing.” 

“Excuse me—“ A beeping sound interrupted older-Tim’s approaching rant.”Oh, shit, gotta. Well, it was nice meeting you again. Have a nice life. C’mon, Jay!” 

“It’s totally your fault, anyway,” Jason told Dick even as he was pulled toward the window. 

“Hey!” older-Tim called out. “Don’t mess with the timeline.” 

“Whatever. As if anyone could keep us apart.” 

“Awww.” 

Tim turned to Dick and, very seriously, said: “Kill me now. Please.” 

“…hmm.” Dick grinned. “You know what, I see the appeal. Maybe I should have a chat with Jason.” 

Tim groaned. 

[chilling-in-the-dark]

The Batboys Growing Up as Yandere’s Part 5: Damian Wayne

This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, possessiveness, death, murder, and kidnapping. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.

As always, feedback is welcomed.

Tim had moved out by the time Bruce found out about Damian; in fact, Tim had left as soon as his girlfriend returned his affections.

When Damian Wayne was still Damian Al Ghul, he’d always been told that caring too much for anyone was a weakness, that it would get him killed. So, he couldn’t understand why his father, the great Batman held on so tightly to his wife. Damian doubted that the woman whom he refused to call a Wayne, because that right should have been reserved for his mother, could even defend herself properly. Damian would have killed her in the early days if he thought he could have gotten away with it.

Though Mrs. Wayne’s patience and constant care slowly wore down his walls, and then he started to envy his father. Yet at the same time, Damian didn’t think he deserved someone; he was a demon who’d killed people. Yet, at the same time, he craved love, Damian yearned for soft touches and sweet smiles.

It was the summer before his freshman year of high school when he’d made a dumb mistake, one his mother would have killed him for, and when the villain he’d been fighting used it to their advantage, he’d barely managed to get away with his life.

It had surprised you to find Robin bleeding out on your fire escape. Against your better judgment, you took him inside and tended to his wounds as best you could, glad your mother was rarely home since her and your stepfather’s messy divorce, you think after six of them she’d learn to cope better.

Damian woke several hours later to find an angel leaning over him; for half a second, he wondered if he’d died. Damian corrected himself; if he died, he certainly wasn’t going to meet an angel. Also, he probably wouldn’t feel like he’d just been given the beating of a lifetime.

“Oh, thank god your alive,” you spoke, relief flooding your voice. You’d done your best to stop the bleeding, but a lot of his wounds looked like they needed stitches, something you weren’t capable of.

Once Damian came to as much as his blood loss would let him, he felt his face, relieved to find his angel had left the mask in place. Robin didn’t speak much until Batman arrived, but then as he was carried out by his father, you could have sworn you heard, “Thank you,” fall faintly from the boy’s lips.

You didn’t know it, but you’d come to regret the night you’d saved a Robin from certain death.

It wasn’t a month later your mother came into your bedroom, demanding to know why you had a letter from Gotham Academy. “So, help me, you better not have applied I told you we can’t afford this and don’t you dare bring up scholarships, those don’t cover uniforms or books.” She’d spent the better part of an hour yelling, not letting you get a word in edgewise, so you couldn’t tell her that you hadn’t applied. Finally, she thrust the envelope onto your dresser and left.

You knew it was probably a scam, but you opened the envelope anyway, only to find a letter about being awarded a full Martha Wayne Foundation scholarship, it supposedly covered every expense necessary to attend. You decided that you’d look up the school’s number and call them in the morning. At worst, you’d end up embarrassed, but if this letter was real, you might have a shot at a future.

It had taken more strength then Damian thought he possessed, to keep him from killing your mother, as he watched the live feed from the security camera he’d installed in your bedroom. Damian had only put them in there because he wanted to keep you safe, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself; he wanted to see how his beloved was doing.

He’d been happy to see you on the first day of school. Actually, he’d gotten to see you before class even started. Your bike tires being several years older than you, had finally given out, and of course, it had started raining of all things.

You’d been cautious when the town car came to a stop beside you, even more so when you saw the back window rolled down to reveal Damian Wayne, but the boy had somehow managed to get you into the car with him. While he’d been rough around the edges, Damian had managed to come off as sweet and charming. It hadn’t been hard something about your presence soothed him, made it easy to let out emotions he usually kept bottled up.

He’d spent the day by your side, and for the first time in a long time, Damian felt at peace; in his eyes, you truly were an angel sent down to save his soul. Damian was convinced that meeting you was fate, that some higher being was giving him a chance, someone to love and that maybe if he did it right and kept you safe, it might make up for his sins.

You were sixteen when Damian had finally asked you out, you’d been happy, how could you not be, your crush liked you back, You’d gushed on the phone to your friends for hours afterword, they were dumbfounded that you hadn’t realized how in love with you the boy was, “He calls you Beloved for peat’s sake, of course, he’s in love with you.”

To you, this was a new relationship, but to Damian, it had been formalizing what he already knew to be true. You were his, and that class ring on your finger would prove it until a wedding ring could take its place.

That time would come on your graduation day when Damian had just finished his valedictorian speech when he knelt in front of you and pulled out a small black box. You knew what was in it before he’d even had a chance to open it and reveal his family’s heirloom engagement ring. Mrs. Wayne must have given it to him.

You’d cried happy tears as he put the ring on your finger, once that was done Damian leaned in to kiss you while ignoring the clicking of cameras. Despite what many think, Damian loved PDA because it let the entire world know whose protection you were under. You wanted the wedding to wait until after college, much to Damian’s dismay, but he’d begrudgingly accepted your choice. Though to Damian’s satisfaction, the wedding came a lot sooner than you’d planned.

You’d been attending Gotham university for a few months now and had been loving it, that is until you spent longer then you’d planned in the library. You knew Damian would want you to call him so he could come and get you, but you knew he was on patrol, and while you didn’t like the idea of walking in Gotham after dark, you’d walked home at night before and never had an issue.

Tonight though, a mugger had pulled you into a dark alley and pointed a gun at your face demanding all your valuables. You’d relented giving the man everything you had on you, but you’d forgotten to give him your ring. You loved the ring, and it was a Wayne family heirloom, but you knew it wasn’t worth your life, so when the man slapped you and demanded you give it up. You instantly started working the ring off your finger.

Just as you’d slipped it from your hand, Robin showed up and started whaling on the guy. You’d never seen Damian so vicious before, but he’d refrained from killing the man in your presence, not wanting you to see death. An angel should never have to see such darkness, no that was reserved for a demon like him, so Damian slipped a tracker on the unconscious man and took you to the manor. Once he’d managed to calm you down enough to sleep, he’d go back out and finish the job.

Damian had used the incident to convince you to marry him sooner, playing up how short life could be and asking you what the point in waiting was. The next day the two of you applied for a marriage license, and during New Jersey’s mandatory three-day waiting period Alfred and the other Wayne wives planned and organized the whole wedding. It was a small and intimate affair, but lovely none the less, everything had been perfect.

Until the next day, that is, when you woke up and found yourself in a locked room, you definitely hadn’t gone to sleep in. Damian was also noticeably absent. Your heart was in your throat, had you been kidnaped, if so how did they get into Wayne manor and why didn’t Damian wake up, your husband was a light sleeper.

There was no way anyone could have taken you without waking him up even if, by some improbability, you hadn’t woken up yourself. You’d never felt so relieved as you did when Damian walked through the door breakfast tray in his hands. Maybe this was some sort of staycation to make up for not being able to go on a honeymoon.

“Dami, why is the door locked?” You asked anyways, not expecting the answer that you were going to get.

“To make sure you can’t leave the safety of this room beloved,” He said, and your blood froze because Damian’s tone made it sound as if he believed it was completely normal to lock his wife in a room. You tried to explain to him how messed up that was, but he ignored your arguments. Your husband wasn’t the man you thought he was.

You weren’t dumb enough to think you could take Damian in a fight, so you waited until he left for patrol to start looking for an exit. All that got you was a bruised shoulder because, apparently, the window was freaking bulletproof glass.

You’d decided that tactic was useless because all it got you was Damian fussing over you, and right now, the last thing you wanted was your kidnaper anywhere near you. So, you stopped eating and made it clear to him that you weren’t going to unless he let you go. Part of you still loved him, so it broke your heart to see such a proud man beg, but no matter how much he cried and pleaded, you held firm.

You kept it up for about a week before you woke up tied to the bed, Damian making it clear that if you weren’t going to eat willingly, he’d force-feed you, after all, he’d vowed to keep you safe, even if it was from yourself.

Tags

@yanderepeterparker​

@idkmanicantenglish​

@prettyafghan

Grow up as only

@neon-phosphorecsent​

@foggyturtleknightangel​

[starker-stories]

A Boy in a Dress

Created for @mcukinkbingo​​ Also on AO3 Square Filled: Crossdressing Ship: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Starker Rating: T Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Word Count: 1914 Additional Tags: Crossdressing, Not Feminization Summary: “Peter… I…” He slowly blinked. “There are things you only see in fantasies. You don’t even have a frame of reference to explain them. Ideas you never let yourself think because what you want is impossible,” Tony explained. “Baby, you’re perfect.” ——————————————————

“Oh my god Tony. It’s… they’re… oh… beautiful!”

Peter rushed over to the bed and started rifling through the clothes draped on it. “You have a whole wardrobe here!” There were flowy skirts and narrow tight pencil skirts. Skirts that came to the floor and ones that looked like they’d barely cover the curve of his ass. Blouses made of soft silk. The fabric draped over his hands and flowed like water until it puddled back onto the bed. Ones of sheer fabric and lace that were more air than cloth. Shoes. High heels, cute little ballet flats, sandals that had string laces that looked long enough to tie all the way up Peter’s legs. Dresses — narrow waisted, broad shouldered. And lingerie! Every kind imaginable. Suitable for day, and especially, for night.

When his initial rush of excitement passed, he noticed that the clothes weren’t just women’s clothes from a store, like he used to sometimes sneak out and buy.

“You had all of this made?”

“Yes baby. You explained to me what you wanted. You’re very happy being a boy and don’t want to change that, never wanted to.”

“Right. But people have misunderstood before…”

“Pete, am I ‘people’?”

“No Tony.”

“So, taking you at your word, I do listen to you, you know.” Tony ticked on his fingers. “Very much a boy. Not a drag queen. Not trying to hide the fact that you’re a boy while you’re dressed. Sensuality is a big part of it. Not costume-y but not ordinary. Not done as a political statement.”

“This dress!” Peter held the dress up to his front and let it drape, looking at himself in the mirror.

“Baby, that’s going to look gorgeous on you.”

Peter quickly stripped out of his t-shirt and jeans then shimmied the golden yellow soft chiffon dress on over his head. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the mirror. He’d tried dresses before, but they never worked as well as a skirt and a blouse. The ones he could get were designed to fit the curves of a woman. There were always places that hung in un-filled-out wrinkles or pulled too tight. His arms and shoulders hardly ever fit. But this fit him perfectly.

The vintage silhouette was styled like when girls wore shoulder pads, but not the cartoonish 80s style. It was more classic, elegant. Of course Peter needed no pads on his broad shoulders. The shape of his body was one of the things he always hated when he dressed. He thought it made him look awful. Yet he liked the way he looked when he wasn’t dressed.

Tony watched as the boy turned this way and that, frowning at times, looking like he was working a puzzle. “There was very little that needed to be changed. The problem was that you needed couture. Off the rack is designed for women. Couture is designed for models. It's a less curved body.”

“Tony, how did you know all this?”

“I’ve dated a lot of models,” he said with a shrug. “Eventually you get bored enough to listen to them.”

“It’s all so beautiful. Thank you.”

“So… I have reservations for eight. There’s more things in your bathroom. I didn’t know what sort of style you wanted though. I’m afraid I picked things I like. More natural.”

“Exactly. Not drag, not obvious. Just a bit of glamour. But…” Peter’s face fell.

“What Pete? What can I fix?”

“Tony, I can’t go out like this.”

“Why?”

Peter sighed. “People get the wrong idea. You might not be people, but people are people. I got caught one day at Columbia wearing a blouse like this,” he held up a simple white linen blouse that wasn’t far off from looking like a shirt, “and I still don’t think I ever convinced them that I wasn’t trans and in denial. I kept having to tell them my pronouns were he/him and yes my name really is Peter. It’s not that I think that being trans is wrong, it’s just that…”

“You’re not.”

“Exactly.”

“Baby, what you are right now is a very beautiful boy in a very beautiful dress. I’d like to take you out to dinner so that everyone can see how beautiful you are.” Tony walked up behind Peter and wrapped his arms around his waist, looking at him through the reflection. “I think you’re stunning.”

It was wonderful that Tony thought he looked that way. When Peter looked at his reflection, he could almost believe it too.

“Baby, when you first started telling me, I mean… I’ve always liked a boy in a bit of lingerie. But the problem was the opposite as it has been with you. They were willing to wear it but it was a kink. And while that’s fun…” Tony shrugged.

“I know! It’s impossible either way.”

“It’s possible. People will see what you show them. If you act camp, they’ll see a drag queen. If you mime the way a woman behaves, then they’ll see a transvestite. If you actually behave like a woman, they’ll see a trans woman. If you’re just you, baby, they’ll see a beautiful boy in a beautiful dress.”

“I can’t.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes!”

“Try. Get ready as if we were going. Come out into the living room with me and we’ll just be together a bit first. If you’re really not ready, then I’ll have the restaurant send dinner here.”

Peter bit his lip. It was amazing seeing their reflections standing there. Peter and Tony had very different body types. Tony was a compact, muscular, solid man. Peter was a lithe, fluid, delicate… man. And they did look beautiful together. Or would if Tony was dressed to match. Right now, in a torn t-shirt and a pair of dad-jeans that did nothing for his ass, they most certainly weren’t a match. He laughed. “You have to dress nice too.”

“Pete, I do clean up all right, you know.” He kissed the side of Peter’s neck. “Can you trust me? A little? But if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you let me know.” Peter looked like he was about to start going through all the reasons he couldn’t do it. “Baby, don’t overthink it. Right now just start by picking out what you want to wear and getting ready in whatever way makes you feel… like you. Don’t think about ‘people’. Just Peter and Tony, okay?”

When Tony bought Peter’s wardrobe, everything he had for himself looked wrong in comparison. He didn’t explain the particulars about the gender of his date to his tailor, he just brought several of the dresses with him and said he wanted to look ‘better than I usually do’. Apparently it took more than simply spending a lot of money on a suit. Wanting to look a match for Peter, he let the man put him through, what Tony joked was, ‘finishing school’.

Peter was beautiful to Tony no matter what he wore. But since the boy told him about this, he hadn’t been able to stop imagining what ‘a boy in a dress’ might actually look like. Every one of his imaginings was more beautiful than the last. He never thought Peter would look incongruous or awkward and certainly not camp or drag, like the boy worried about. Peter couldn’t look that way. He was graceful and light and… as he stepped into the room, perfect.

Peter’s hair wasn’t ‘done up’. There were soft, messy curls with something in them that made it look wet, but not wet. Glistening? Yeah. Glistening. Tony could tell he was wearing cosmetics, but he didn’t look like it. Not even like the ‘natural’ makeup that some of the girls he’d dated wore. There was a bit of shadow to his eyes, but just barely enough to heighten the depth of them, to bring out the honey-color. His lashes looked brighter, but Tony couldn’t tell if that was something he was wearing because Peter naturally had the most amazing long lashes. His lips though… the color was perhaps just a tiny bit pinker, but they were shiny and looked like they did when he got nervous, because he had a habit of licking them. Tony wanted to bite.

That dress. It was beautiful when he saw it on him in the mirror, but in combination with everything it was… The fit was as before, and the way the fabric draped, Tony’s fingers were itching to feel. The stockings had just a little bit of shimmer to them but weren’t ‘fetish’, not black or red, but the same color as Peter’s pale skin. Tony hadn’t been sure if Peter actually knew how to walk in heels, but the boy flowed into the room.

“Oh Peter. I…” Tony stumbled over his words. He was a man who had dated some of the most beautiful women in the world. Without a bit of exaggeration, he told Peter, “Baby, you take my breath away.” When the boy blushed? Tony’s words were literal.

“I don’t look ridiculous?”

“Peter… I…” He slowly blinked. “There are things you only see in fantasies. You don’t even have a frame of reference to explain them. Ideas you never let yourself think because what you want is impossible,” Tony explained. “Baby, you’re perfect.”

Tony rushed to Peter, wrapped his arm around the boy’s narrow — muscular, masculine — waist. He lifted him and spun him around like they were dancing. The way he felt in Tony’s arms. The lean body of a boy who took ballet lessons. Everything about him was the same. There wasn’t anything about him that wasn’t Peter. He was a stunningly handsome young man. Graceful, but the fabric, the clothes, the way he looked, went from graceful to otherworldly. Formed of beautiful renaissance paintings, old black and white movies, and stylized images of long-limbed saints.

“Please tell me you feel this,” Tony said, stopping them in the middle of the room.

Peter stepped closer until he and Tony were against each other. “I… Tony… you’re… we’re…”

“Beautiful, Peter.” He nestled Peter on his shoulder. “Shh, don’t cry. You’re a vision.”

“It’s not just a…” Peter sighed. “Like you said, a kink?”

“Baby, do I want to take you into the bedroom and fuck you senseless? Yeah. When don’t I? Do you remember the first time I took you to a gala and you put on that tux? I wanted to fuck you senseless then too. You in my old sweatshirt and jeans makes me want to fuck you senseless. You just do things to me, kid.”

Peter laughed. But then he stopped and swallowed hard. “We can’t though.”

“Go out? Why? People?”

Peter nodded. “No one will understand.”

“Peter, you don’t look like that. You’re without camp, without drag, without imitation.”

“Well there is some imitation.”

“No. None. There’s a… derivation of style, that’s all. It suits you. But why don’t I call the restaurant. I’ll put on some music, because god Peter do I ever want to dance with you. And then we’ll eat in the dining room instead of the kitchen for a change. Save going out for another time. Let you get used to everything at home first.”

“You don’t mind if we don’t go out?” Peter said hesitantly.

“Baby, that means I get you to all to myself. Saves me from having to beat the shit out of some guy who looks at you too long.”

——————————————————

[crypterion-moon]

Tiamat: Rise in Shadow p.2

Summary: He’s ended up in a new world, one that is surprisingly similar to his but everyone is so much younger. Tiamat, unable to resist his curiosity begins to observe, acting impulsively.

The Light realizes that they have problems concerning their operations

Tags: Violence, Gore

Tiamat's head was ringing, and it was damn annoying as well as slightly painful. It took a whole lot of effort and will to just open his eyes with his whole body screaming at him for the abuse. Not the first time, he told himself, had worse happen to him on Batman's watch. And then he realized there was a possibility he wasn't alone. His eyes shot open and he lifted his head enough to give the surrounding area a quick scan around before dropping back to the ground, face first of course. He felt as if he got kicked in the head by a horse, which was a close enough comparison given how hard he was hit. 

Fortunately it seemed like the Blight Hounds didn't seem to make it through or were dropped off elsewhere, hopefully somewhere far away, like a different dimension. He was about to seduce and kill a young man who would later become a gang leader as he'd been told by Oriviane, one of the oracles. Though it had nothing to do with Tiamat or the wraiths what his destiny would have been, his name was listed. He would die sooner or later.

It would have just been another night of ending someone's life with pleasure until they were suddenly ambushed by those damned monsters. Ambushes weren't all that unusual though it served to be a pain in the ass having to kill his targets before they ran off. Tiamat was always prepared for these moments and it wouldn't have been a problem if his psyche as well as his powers didn't decide to fluctuate right at that moment. It earned him a swat to the face from one of their malformed paws, and they were strong, if not smart.

“Damn, I hope they didn't scratch me,” Tiamat grunted, as his fingers came away wet with blood. 

He glanced at his surroundings, a thick but not unruly gathering of trees blocked much of Tiamat's field of vision like a forest, preventing him from seeing too much farther, but he could hear a the low drone of activity, human activity just beyond the edge of the spot where he stood. Tiamat followed the sounds, noting how oddly neat these trees were spaced almost as if...he reached the end to find wide open spaces filled with people either picnicking, strolling or playing, and beyond that was a city. Its buildings jutting up unpleasantly over the foliage. His portal navigation had landed him in the middle of a park in god knows where, again. In fairness, it was a stressful moment, trying to open up a door while fending of mutant mutts and no doubt, they must've been scattered over other realms. He really needed to get the hang of this before it sent him into somewhere much more unpleasant.

Strangely, as he kept passing through the thick growth of trees he could hear the sounds of civilization cars and voices, not too far away and as it turned out, he’d reached the edge of what turned out to be a reserved patch of forest. Now he was staring from under the shade, normal civilians passing by going about their business. At least he was sure he wasn’t on some god-forsaken hell. He was about to move forward when a sudden explosion erupted about fifty meters away. He flinched back into the cover and watched intently.

Through the throngs of screaming people, a figure emerged from the wreckage, large and imposing and an awfully familiar at that. It was Bane. Still duped up on Venom.

“Come out you spineless cowards, come out and face Bane!”

Good lord he was obnoxious as ever. Watching him thrash about like a child throwing a tantrum was almost comical. He took out a substantial chunk of the cement ground throwing it about, thankfully most of the crowds had retreated but he was posing a serious threat to bystanders. For now, it seemed that the only damage he was intent on doing was to the surrounding inanimate objects, smashing to be exact, unimpressive really. Then the drugged up criminal fixes his gaze on some unfortunate man on his way to work. Tiamat grinned. Perfect, he had some stress to work off.

Just when he had taken a step out, suddenly Bane was ambushed. Teenagers sporting colourful sets of powers and abilites. One of them, a green skinned boy morphed into a bull charging Bane relentlessly and recklessly. A young blond woman with a bow joined in, notching and releasing arrows effortlessly with near perfect aim. The flashy one dashed in to deliver a series of, flimsy punches. When it comes to Bane, nothing short of a strong punch will affect him, but somehow, Tiamat could feel that was merely to add to the distraction.

Something bigger was coming his way. 

Just as the thought materialized, a large black and blue jean mass came flying in, crashing into Bane with a loud thump and crack that definitely was the sound of a few broken bones. The villain was sent flying back from the impact while the recent addition to the fray watched with a triumphant expression, back straight, floating in the air with the symbol on his chest on display. A Super.

The sight of the S brought memories, slamming back into Tiamat .

“Hey Broody.”

Kon smiling as he hovered over him making terrible jokes about his height, his personality being not as colourful as his costume. Fighting together with their teammates against extraterrestrial terrorists. 

“You know he doesn’t mean that.”

Kon comforting him over his arguments and fights with Bruce and Jason. Hearing Kon’s voice beg him to come home again and again until he couldn’t hear him anymore. And when he finally opened his eyes, he was holding Kon’s head in his bloody hands.

Tim doubled over gagging, holding himself steady grasping a thorny vine that grew along the trunk of the tree, his hand so tight around it the thorns pierced skin and blood ran down his palm and the vine.

“Damn it, not now, keep it together...” he fought to keep the memories suppressed. Just then a giant crash spooked him out of the lapse and he looked up in time to see a huge Gorilla in a stupid hat flattening down everything In its way, with a machine gun to match. Following behind were what looked like a few hired goons, of course, why not. Bane always made sure to be stocked up on henchmen and backup.

This was however turning into a bit of a joke and Tiamat was getting bored of watching.

“Robin!” A slight figure leaped out of nowhere at the command, unleashing a whole arsenal of batarangs and smoke pellets. The flying pieces of metal successfully took down a portion of the goons while the pellets burst, enveloping the area in thick smoke. No one can see through it accept for Superboy but they had definitely planned this enough not to require visibility. Tiamat ’s suspicions were confirmed when the green shapeshifter charged right into the smoke, audibly knocking out more of the hired guns, both Robin and the archer jointly disabled the remaining men caught in the smoke. Bane could be heard roaring over the commotion, Gorilla sniffed and grunted. Suddenly, Superboy and a girl with a familiar symbol dived in, tackling the two. The team’s hard hitters best suited for tanks like Bane and the Gorilla. Tiamat guessed they must be this world’s Teen Titans, which meant he had to be careful who he came in contact with.

After a whole load of punching and kicking, the two villains were finally down, disappointingly enough, how boring. They began discussing something together possibly about whatever mission they were on while the blond with the lasso and the speedster began tying everyone up. Just then the  farthest man lying just a meter of where Tiamat was hiding got up and started sprinting off into the woods.

Tim watched the man as he made his escape into the darkness, soon noticed to be by the teens, his lips stretched into a sinister grin. He sat back on his haunches, preparing for the chase.

“Let the hunt begin.”

“We have a runner,” Nightwing sounded slightly fed up, his tone coloured with annoyance as he watched the last of Bane’s hired gun run of to the woods. No one could blame him, since it’s been a long day and no doubt, going to be a long night for him in Bludhaven, the wicked never sleep. So the team started off after him as the heavy hands came to take the criminals away for locking up. Kid Flash was definitely the fastest but not the brightest, and in an environment like a forest, odds were that he’d trip up or spend the whole day searching high and low for the man, so it was a good thing he wasn’t here or he’d run off not knowing where he was going or running into. Beast Boy had the right idea though, as a hound, he had the escaper’s scent. So they followed him into the thick growth. 

Finding him was actually harder than they thought, he had no tracker so all they could really rely upon was Superboy’s senses and Beast Boy’s ability to track as an animal, even then Connor couldn’t see past all the trees with his vision and Garfield lost his scent a few times.

“He must be in the deepest part of the forest by now,” Artemis said.

“Keep searching, if he’s going back to base this could mean finding the ones responsible for the meta-trafficking,” Nightwing ordered.

“He could be headed towards the docks, it’s the quickest and closest way out,” Robin said, it made sense and Nightwing agreed, it was the only other place that anyone could find a way to get off the island. As they got nearer to the docks, Superboy stopped all of a sudden, his teammates stopped as well.

“Superboy, what’s wrong, is-” Wondergirl began to say when he shushed her, his ears picking up whimpers and sobs and some frantic words that were to muffled for him to hear properly. But he could tell which direction.

“Over there,” he said, facing in the direction of the sound just off to the side to where the docks were, .

They followed Conner to what looked like the deepest part of the forest when he faltered and bent over looking shaken.

“What’s wrong,” Nightwing asked, checking him over with concern.

“Someone screamed and it wasn’t any scream, I mean a real scream,” Connor looked up and around, panicked, “I can’t hear him anymore.” 

With this disturbing reveal, Nightwing and Robin both took off in that direction, with the others following after Superboy had recovered. Beast Boy was in the lead again, with the scent strong this time and they ventured on before Garfield started yelping, then, the smell hit them hard, the smell of blood and urine.

“Oh my god,” Artemis let out a hoarse whisper.

Everyone stopped, their mouths hanging open in shock. The corpse lying before them was definitely their runner, but he wasn’t going to be answering questions or going anywhere but the morgue. His limbs stuck out at odd angles like he was flailing about so much they were arranged haphazardly, his uniform was ripped open and so was his throat. The chest area bore several gashes. Right arm ripped off and legs punctured. He looked like he’d been mauled by a savage animal except, no animal can make such clean cuts as the ones on his chest, the claws must have been thin, needle like. His mouth hung agape with terror and he must have been scared enough to wet himself with the darkened patch on his pants mixing with the blood that was now seeping in, staining the grey a darker shade.

“Wha- who could have done this?!” Cassie gasped. Nightwing took a tentative step forward, he’d seen bad things in Gotham but never something like this here. Something had made it’s way on the island.

He looked back to see Robin had also followed his movement but he seemed to be on the verge of getting sick, he was too young to witness something like this. Nightwing didn’t want to baby him. Working as Robin alongside Batman meant being in the middle of things like this but still...he glanced back at the body. This was too horrible.

“You guys, go back to HQ, call Batman, tell him we’ve got an issue, possibly something worse than the crisis at hand,” he ordered the rest of the team, “Robin, look at me, I know it’s going to be hard but go back with them, take the rest of the day off.”

“But I-.”

“Listen to me, Tim, I’m not putting you off missions because I think you’re not up for it, but I’ve had something like this happen before and it isn’t something you can just shake off, take it from a guy who tried winging it,” Dick gave him a wry smile, “Go home you earned it.”

Both Nightwing and Robin looked at the tattered remains, “I don’t think it’s exactly safe there right now.” 

Batman was waiting for them when Nightwing and a few others were finished assessing the situation and had returned to their new cave headquarters. The mountain they had once called base was demolished and smoothed over but in the process of retrieving precious components the had managed to unearth tunnels and caverns formed long ago when lava still flowed here.

It was almost like the old one, well, technically it was, or rather an extension of the old cave.

Batman was tapping away at the computer when they finally arrived.

“I’ve heard a lot about what happened, report.”

Aqualad, Blue Beetle looked rather ill, Nightwing wasn’t happy to have dug his hands deep into the case. 

“Nothing good,” Dick said as he produced a image storage card from one of his compartments, and slotted it into the computer then turned to the rest of the teens gathered around watching curiously, “If any of you guys just ate and don’t have the stomach for this, you might want to look away, especially you Static.”

“I think I’m cool, I’ve been working on this team for a while.”

None of them seemed to be able to look away and Nightwing raised a brow questioningly but relented, “Suit yourself.”

The series of images that popped up on the screen were...hard to digest. The first image of the dead gunman in the woods was obvious, to some but there were more, far more to come. And they got bloodier and bloodier, multiple bodies piled upon each other or strewn around warehouses, corridors, missing limbs, missing eyes, throats torn, one had his skull crushed and a few sliced cleanly in half. All merciless, and brutally killed. All in the same uniform. 

Some retching could be heard in the background, a few of the teens’ eyes had gone wide and forced to look away. Even Superboy, claiming to be fearless didn’t find it easy to be seeing this. Bart grimaced.

“We can assume that this was the base where our runner was going to and whoever, whatever got to him got here first, from what I can tell there were no survivors.”

“Oh god,” M’gann’s voice was merely a whisper.

“Have you determined who they were working for?”

“Only that the hired muscle belonged to Luthor and the whole operation was headed by Bane. The base located just a few miles off the coast was built overnight, it’s supposed to be temporary. That’s how they got so many guys to infiltrate the island. Today was supposed to be the first wave, scout and weaken we know the Light is pulling strings again and they were planning to completely take out the Young Justice.” 

“The full attack was scheduled two days from now, a whole army coming at us...there were a lot of people stationed at that base.” 

Nightwing looked visibly shaken, but he collected himself enough to give the rest of the report, “That’s all the information I was able to recover from their smaller caches, along with the shots we took of the scene but the rest of the data that was in their main computer, is gone, no messages, no videos, all taken or destroyed,” Nightwing looked grim. 

Batman narrowed his eyes and turned back to the screen, scrolling through the images stored on the memory card. The info explained only a portion of the operation but nothing on what transpired there, no indications of unusual activity, which meant that whatever happened, happened suddenly and quickly. His mind racing through a million possibilities, scenarios, potential suspects who wanted in on this operation or just to sabotage it. Joker was on the list, even if he worked with the Light before, he and they both knew he was a wild card of sorts and could turn easily on any one. But this…

Beside him, Robin had taken a step forward analysing each photograph, the investigator inside of him pushing past his queasiness to work out all the clues and Bruce didn’t miss a single moment of that.

“Whoever did this knew what they were doing, but it wasn’t exactly planned, no, I think it all started with the runner,” Batman said.

“How can you be sure?” Aqualad questioned.

“No prior reports of related activity and in such a short time period starting, with your fight with him he’s done a lot of damage,” Batman continued before Jaime cut in.

“Wait, he?”

“Just one person?” Artemis added.

Batman gave Robin a look, body language he was trained to understand, by now, he’d analysed all that he could in those shots and was already organising them into vital information in his head, he started, “There’s blood on the floor that doesn’t match the shape of any of the men in the photos, it’s distinctly male given the size of the footprint, and it can’t be female as the toes are not narrow enough. The back of the print is narrower so the heel must be high, that alone separates it from the any one of the Lex’s men.” 

“Plus there are some distinct marks in front of each print, they look like dots but on closer inspection,” Robin zooms in on one particular print showing a print with several patterned holes in the front, “Our...killer has clawed feet.” 

“Whoa,” Bart said.

“What the hell could that be?” Static threw up his hands frustrated in the riddle talk, “Our mystery guy has clawed feet and is wearing high heels? Apart from fashion statement, is he human? Meta like us?”

Batman and Nightwing exchanged looks, everybody just looked worried.

“You’re thinking something else aren’t you.”

“Without further investigation we don’t have much to go on, but our gut instinct says the same, someone, something has made it here.”

“And whoever or whatever that is, is extremely dangerous,” Nightwing warned.

“Are you even sure it’s just the one guy?” Kon asked.

There was a pause, Batman turned to the screen, scanning the pictures of mutilated and half eaten bodies littered across it, before he answered, “With this kind of carnage, let’s hope we’re just dealing with one threat and not an army.” 

Meanwhile at Lex Corporations, news about the massacre had reached Luthor, and he was not amused. He sat at his desk scrolling through the reports and the images attached, articles that were published days before. He cared little about the men he hired to do his work but was no savage and seeing the aftermath of the attack, he could only conclude it was performed by one. He could put the blame on a few named psychopaths but wild guesses may not help his case. The announcement given by the Batman claimed that it was both a calculated move and a spur of the moment impulse. The  So now, he had a rabid but logical killer on his hands, probably headed for him. With nothing to help identify them it could turn out to be any one person or maybe more, he’s had attempts on his life but it helps to know the suspects, Arsenal a most recent example but a missile is easy to see, easy to counter. From what Lex could tell, this one will give no warning, far too unpredictable.

“Mercy, make the call, our protective measures won’t be enough I’m afraid,” Luthor said. His bodyguard immediately took out the phone to begin dialling, “I have a call to make myself.”

“So, you’re saying that you’re being hunted, why am I not surprised?” Klarion smirked.

Luthor cocked an eyebrow in response to the jarring comment but continued, “If I may continue, it is but a theory, the only thing that causes doubt is the suddenness of the incident. I’d rather be safe than sorry that’s all.”

“A few dead men and you’re concerned?” the Queen mocked lightly, “How very unlike you.”

“Simply cautious my dear, unlike some,” Luthor shot back, making the woman wrinkle her nose slightly but comment no further.

“Now, now, no need for us to argue over such matters, I understand how important it is to be vigilant, Luthor. You have our support. Let’s hope this setback doesn’t last too long,” Vandal said.

“Thank you, I’ll lay low for a bit, in the meantime we should end the threat while it’s still early.”

Klarion hummed in playful doubt, “I dunno, maybe whoever this is could be fun to play with. They’ve caused quite a stir everywhere.”

“Oui, perhaps this newcomer will make a good ally,” the Brain said in his heavily accented English. Lex looked doubtful, as the Queen but both Savage and Klarion seemed open to the idea, Klarion more so with a glee in his eyes. As long as chaos was involved anything would be enough to keep the boy happy. Though the other members were uncertain, a little bit of investment could go a long way. With both Black Manta and Ra’s unavailable to comment, the majority voted on watching the newcomer first, see if there was anything he could offer and act when the moment was right. 

“Let us observe for the moment, we shall soon see if he can serve the Light.”

[smallmediumproblems]

The first sign that Jon’s plan was working was the sunlight. It was thin, cloudy, London sunlight, but it was the second-most beautiful thing he’d seen in his entire life. He let it wash over him along with the sounds of the city. The passing cars and babble of tourists and, god, just the sound of people being happy. The second sign was that he had no idea what day it was. He reached for the information from something beyond himself, but it was like trying to flex wings that he didn’t have. He was blissfully alone in his head. The Eye was gone. As he glanced down at himself, he found that the rest of the fear had gone with it. The scar on his hand rested stubbornly on the surface of his skin and went no deeper. The rest were the same.

The third sign was that he was able to hail a cab from Hilltop Road to Millbank. He didn’t think he could handle being underground just yet, and it gave him an excuse to have a conversation. Any conversation. Yes, he did live in London. From Kilbride, is that so? He’d spent his honeymoon up North (sort of), lovely place. Spectacular cows. He was here on business, actually, since he supposed he didn’t work where he was going anymore. Damned glad to be free of the place. Why, yes, Jon thought so too- a job was really all about the people. The people had always been good.

The Magnus Institute was as squat and imposing as he remembered it. Perhaps it was Jon’s imagination, but it looked smaller than when he’d last seen it. The shadows clung a little closer, shying away from his flimsy sunlight. He could almost hear Tim and Sasha arguing inside, could picture the way they smiled and laughed at each other. Martin would be…

No. No, he couldn’t think about that, that was a sacrifice he had already decided to make. It’s not like Martin would know, anyway.

“Sir?” Rosie’s voice stopped him from heading straight down to the Archives. He pulled to a halt, taking a second to bask in the normalcy of it. “Can I help you?”

“Err, yes,” he stammered, “Hello. I’m- I’m here to see the Archivist?”

“He’s got a visitor right now, but...” Rosie informed him. She glanced down towards the stairwell, and returned her attention to Jon with a sympathetic half-smile. “You’re here for a statement? Why don’t you wait downstairs. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

It had been too much to hope that Gertrude was still alive. Apparently, it had been too much to hope for Sasha to be her successor, either. Tim, maybe? He’d been marked by the Stranger, something Elias would surely have noticed and took advantage of. He thanked Rosie, and as he made his way downstairs, a very different argument than what he’d been expecting drifted up through the walls.

“...got time for this. I don’t know how to make that any more clear. I don’t care.”

“That’s just what I love about our conversations.”

The doors were closed. All except for his own at the end of the hall. Tentatively, Jon knocked on Tim’s office door. No answer. Then Sasha. Then Martin. Nothing. Even the break room was silent.

“Look, even if I didn’t think you were a waste of my time, I’m already spoken for. What you’re talking about just isn’t possible. Not after what happened.”

“Can you really know that?”

Jon rounded the corner to see Martin sitting at his desk, just in time to hear him let out a laugh that was far too sharp and far too dark.

“Knowing’s what I do,” said Martin Blackwood, the Archivist. “That, and babysitting, since you’re still-”

Martin’s eyes lit up very abruptly, and he leaned around Peter Lukas to look at Jon. “Jonathan! Come in, we were just finishing up.”

There was a moment of vertigo as Jon realized that Martin didn’t actually recognize him. He just Knew him. He felt an uncomfortable pressure at the back of his neck, as though something had grabbed hold of him to keep him from struggling.

Martin’s attention flickered briefly back to Peter, the stark annoyance returning to his voice. “Leave. I’d tell you to come back later, but honestly, don’t.”

“Same time tomorrow, then,” said Peter. He nodded cheerfully at Jon on his way out, and Martin rounded the desk to greet him.

“Here for a statement?” Martin asked eagerly. “Please, sit down, I’ll get you some tea.”

Jon nodded and collapsed faintly into the guest chair. Martin had apparently moved the entire tea station into his office, and opened a storage cabinet in the corner to reveal an electric kettle next to a mismatched selection of boxes and loose paper packets. Without so much as a look backwards, he began making a cup exactly the way Jon liked it, as well as one for himself. He even used Jon's favorite cat mug. Jon wondered if Martin Knew he liked it specifically because it was the one Martin always used to bring him.

“Sorry you had to see that,” Martin said idly. “Office politics, you know. Doesn’t even work here, and he thinks he can waltz right in and give me more stuff to do.”

“I can imagine,” said Jon. “Isn’t there anyone else to help you?”

Martin laughed again, that light little chirp that he reserved for when something was wrong and he didn’t want to talk about it. “Just me. I’ve got some assistants, somewhere, but they’re kept nice and busy.”

He turned to face Jon as he spoke, and the effect was perhaps less reassuring than he’d intended. For the first time in years, Jon was reminded that Martin's demeanor was the only thing stopping him from being intimidating as well as just very big. He looked older than he should have been. Jon had never seen him loom before, but he was proving to be quite good at it. There was a scar across his left jaw, two parallel lines that could have been from claws. His smile was, inexplicably, the same as ever, which almost made the whole picture worse. It was still more beautiful than the sunlight outside. His eyes went startlingly glassy for a moment, and he looked surprised at something.

“Wow. You’ve got quite a story, haven’t you?” he commented.

“I’m much more interested in yours,” said Jon. Martin sighed.

“Of course you are,” he said. “What is it this time... You know, I can't get a clear look at you, that's funny. Are you from the Spiral? You don’t reeeeally strike me as the spidery type.”

“No, I’m- I’m human,” said Jon. “I’m not here for the Archivist, Martin. I came to find you.”

Martin’s smile withered away into an almost childish dissatisfaction. He didn't tense up, or seem particularly more ready to deal with any impending danger. It was with an uneasy sinking feeling that Jon understood this was because his guard had been raised the whole time. Jon had been a threat from the moment he walked in the door. Martin was just sure he could deal with whatever that threat was.

“Cool," he said tersely, "Love it when strangers know who I am. Let's start from the top. Who exactly are you?"

"I'm Jon. Jonathan Sims," Jon answered, his whole being laid out precisely by the question. He could not help but feel a little thrill of joy at not being anything else. "I suppose I’m not anybody. I’m from a different world, one that I, ah… Kind of mucked up. I came here because I thought it would be better off without me."

Martin frowned.

He smiled.

He laughed, and it was as cold and terrible as before.

"Alright," he said. "That’s, um. Total nonsense. First things first-"

Martin turned to retrieve the tea and slid Jon's cup across the table to him. He even gave him a coaster.

"We're going to play a game," Martin said pleasantly. "Here's how it goes: I'm going to pop your head open like an advent calendar, and if I don't like what I find, I get to eat all the little chocolates inside. Now might be a good time to leave if that doesn't sound like a fun game to you."

"And abandon my tea?" Jon said, aghast. Martin lifted his cup, and they clinked glasses. From the look in Martin's eyes, they might as well have been crossing swords.

"Alright then!" said Martin. "Let's have that statement, Mr Jonathan Sims who isn’t anybody. The very first one. About how you worked here."

And with that, the whole world fell away, an excruciating practice in focus and captivity. Jon had expected it to feel like being in a spotlight. Perhaps like performing to a massive, leering audience. This was more personal. This was an exam that he'd spent his whole life studying for and not absorbed a single piece of worthwhile information towards. An essay prompt that he was brimming with words to answer, but could never have enough time to do it justice.

"Well, I was the Archivist," he started, taking a sip of his tea. "I was good at it. Not at first, of course. I wasn't a good anything, at first. I had some assistants who tolerated me. There was Sasha. And Tim. And you. I managed to ruin everything almost immediately, for everyone. I let Sasha die. Didn't even notice when it happened. Then, I brought Tim with me on a dangerous mission, knowing he would die too, which he did. I made your life hell, and the moment things started to change for the better, I left you.

"All while I was ruining people's lives, I continued to be a good Archivist. And an Archivist is only good for one thing. I brought ruin to everything around me one final time. An irrevocable ruin. So deep and terrible that reality shifted in the image of my abject failure. Then, when I could no longer stand to live in that world, I left you one last time. I removed myself - and my failure - from reality. And now, I'm here."

There was a heavy creak as Martin leaned back against his tea cabinet. He had looked calm, almost comfortable until that moment, and Jon remembered the way that statements tended to bottle up your emotions until they were finished if you weren't careful. Martin’s face had gone pale. At what in particular, Jon couldn't begin to guess. He could feel very keenly what Martin had seen - the litany of horrors that Jon had committed against the world, culminating in one final terror that never ceased and had no bounds. He couldn’t know what it meant to Martin, though. There was a haze growing around his memories of the apocalypse, like a nightmare his body was trying to wash away.

"You came back," Martin finished for him.

"I suppose I did," said Jon. "Martin, what happened to everyone?"

"Gone," Martin said faintly. He removed himself from the cabinet and came forward to lean on his chair instead. "They're all… dead, Jon, why did… it's just me. It's been me for so long."

That couldn’t be right. Jon was the reason they died, they should have been just fine without him.

"What about Melanie? Daisy, or Basira?" he insisted, "Or Helen, is Helen still here?"

"Helen’s gone," said Martin, "Died in the accident with Sasha. Michael left after that, too. I wasn’t supposed to be the Archivist, you know? Everyone knew that. Sasha’s the one who took over for Gertrude. After Tim got replaced by that… thing, she just… She didn't come back from the circus. I think she knew better. When Elias offered me the job, I thought- I couldn't stop thinking, if I say no, if he gets someone else, am I going to have to watch them die, too?"

"Martin, I'm so sorry," was all Jon could think to say. "I thought I could save them. If I'd just left well enough alone, if I hadn't been there, I thought that would be enough. This was my fault, all of it was meant to go away without me. I was just trying to fix what I’d done."

“And what did you do to me, huh?” asked Martin. “You said you killed everyone else.”

“I don’t want to-”

“Tell me what you did,” asked the Archivist.

“I loved you,” said Jon.

Again, he was unraveled for examination. It spared him the messy process of having to examine his feelings, but it meant that Martin was forced to go through it instead. Martin took a deep breath in and out, as though struggling to press back some reaction. Whatever he’d been through in Jon’s absence, it let him keep his expressions startlingly neutral.

“And what do you mean to do now?” he pressed.

“I suppose I’ll still love you,” said Jon. “And hope that that’s enough.”

Martin got very quiet. He started to say something, and stopped short. Thought of something better to say, then decided against that one as well. Jon momentarily wished that he could get inside his head one last time.

“What else do you do?” he finally asked.

“Mostly, I make extremely reckless decisions,” Jon admitted.

Martin considered this.

“I can work with that,” he decided, “You’re kind of from the future, right?”

“That’s not-”

“What can you tell me about the Fears?” Martin cut him off. There was a gleam in his eye that Jon recognized as the first inkling of a plan. It made Jon’s heart melt.

“Um, right. So, you’ve got Smirke’s fourteen, that’s obvious.”

“Obviously.”

“Did you talk to Leitner?”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Ugh. I haven’t seen him since he cleared out that Hunter last year. He still won’t come out of the tunnels, he’s convinced Elias is going to lop his head off.”

“He’s alive?” Jon exclaimed.

“I mean, I guess,” said Martin, not sounding too worried. “Seemed like he had things sorted.”

“He wasn’t far off the mark about Elias,” Jon said nervously.

“Yeeeah, I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Martin. “I keep him locked in a storage closet.”

This was so far outside the realm of Jon’s imagination that he actually took a moment to picture it. It was a pleasant moment.

“...and that works?” he asked.

“Sort of,” Martin shrugged. “I throw him an evil artifact once and a while to keep him busy. Took him ages to get out of that haunted coffin thing.”

“God, you’re amazing,” Jon muttered under his breath, “Err, what about Gerry?”

“How d’you think I got this?” said Martin, tracing a knuckle over the claw mark that tugged at his smug little half-smile.

Jon got the distinct feeling that they were competing at something. More importantly, Martin seemed to be winning. The tea was abandoned, pouring the last of its warmth uselessly into the air. There was a tension between them that Jon hadn’t felt since the first time they’d met. The rules for that interaction were impersonal, neutral and only tenuously agreed-upon, full of boundaries that needed pushing and limits to test. Technically speaking, they were meeting for the first time again, which meant that the same rules applied here. That memory forced a realization into Jon’s head with all the grace and delicacy of a burning freight train.

Martin wasn’t trying to beat him at anything. He was trying to impress him.

“C’mon, future guy,” said Martin, with an impatience that was clearly feigned. “Give me something useful.”

“You never mentioned what happened to Melanie,” Jon shot back.

“Melanie King,” Martin mulled over, “She came in with a statement, then she dragged Sasha off to India looking for ghosts. Sasha came back with a bullet hole in her back. Melanie joined a podcast.”

“Thank god,” Jon breathed a sigh of relief.

“Um, no?” said Martin, eyes wide. “Sasha got shot.”

“No, but- But Melanie’s fine,” Jon explained. “Honestly, I’ll take what I can get, at this point.”

Martin smirked. “Keep going.”

“Daisy and Basira.”

“They are a pair of law officers,” Martin said contemplatively, drawing the information from thin air. Jon noticed that he tilted his head up slightly whenever he Beheld something, craning his neck to get a better look. He wondered if he’d had any sort of tells like that. Martin could probably tell him. “One of whom just got probation for murdering someone. Again. Is that supposed to mean something?”

“I suppose not,” said Jon, “And you know about the rituals?”

“No, Jon, I don’t know about the rituals I’ve lost most of my friends to trying to stop in the past year,” said Martin.

“Do you know they don’t work?”

This gave Martin pause.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked suspiciously.

“I mean, they don’t work,” Jon repeated. “The rituals are doomed to fail. It’s impossible to bring any one fear into the world on its own.”

“Which means that… I haven’t lost everyone trying to stop the end of the world.” Martin’s voice had started to shake. “I’ve lost everyone for… absolutely nothing.”

“There’s something else,” Jon said sharply. This was a crisis that did need dealing with, but not here or now. “One of them does work, one that you’re in a uniquely good position to stop. Your own.”

Martin pulled out the meaning of this remarkably quickly. That, or he just pulled the answer from Jon’s head. “The Archivist is a ritual,” he proposed.

“Exactly,” said Jon. “Your role is to collect the fears. All of them. They can’t be brought in one at a time, but all at once is a different matter.”

“So, no Archivist, no ritual?” Martin said quietly.

“No!” Jon cried, “That’s what I tried to do. Didn’t exactly work out. I think there’s always an Archivist. All we can do is postpone it. Gertrude did the best she could, but she didn’t tell anyone who could have carried on for her.”

“And then she died,” said Martin.

“Yes, but she also lived,” said Jon. “Right now, I think that’s the best possible thing you can do.”

“Let’s- Let me just unpack this, so you know how insane this sounds,” said Martin. “This guy I’ve never met before - who apparently loves me literally more than sunlight, don’t think I didn’t catch that - waltzes in and tells me that the solution to all my problems is just living my best life.”

Jon smiled, finally breaking the tension to take a sip of tea. “In all fairness, the sun does rather pale in comparison to you.”

Martin laughed again. This time it had just a hint of the warmth that Jon longed to see in him.

“Well. You promised you’d find me when you came back,” said Martin. “How’s that working out for you?”

Jon nearly choked on his drink. He had in fact been trying not to think about the last time he’d seen the other Martin - his Martin, who stood through the end of the world with him. He’d been trying to think of everything except the last words they’d said to each other, the last time they’d touched, the last time they would see each other again.

“You remember?” he spluttered.

“I know,” Martin corrected him, although he seemed unsure himself. “That’s different from remembering. It didn’t happen to me. It happened to someone else, who was me, who… And, and I don’t… I mean, I could. Couldn’t I?”

“Martin, I can’t read minds anymore,” Jon reminded him.

“I don’t love you,” Martin insisted. This seemed to distress him more than anything he’d pulled from Jon’s mind. “Not like he did. I don’t know how. You came all this way, and I’ve got no idea how to be the person you came looking for.”

“I know,” Jon said warmly. “I didn’t come here expecting you to. I came back to keep my promise. And I came back to help however I could.”

Martin nodded. “D’you think we could start with that whole ‘living’ thing?”

“I can’t say I’m the best at it,” said Jon, “But for you, I’ll try.”

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ lyric inspiration: “and I thought my heart was attached for all the sunlight of our past but she's so sweet, she's so pretty. does she mean you forgot about me?”

♡ pairing: timothy thatcher x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / also, i do take character suggestions for WWE/NXT/UK wrestlers now! remember only character suggestions! not full on reqs. 

and do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? an eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean.

you looked to Marcel and sighed, putting your head on your arms and looking at the way he was with his new girlfriend. it had been months that you and him were no longer but a part of your heart still hadn’t healed itself from the break up and it wasn’t exactly news to anyone. 

the cause of breakup was that Marcel wanted to be ‘free’. you had no idea what that meant and for the longest time, your relationship with the rest of Imperium had taken a strain because of it but when Marcel’s endeavors finally got back to you, thank Alex for that, you weren’t exactly surprised. 

“woah,” you heard Candice whisper to herself as you finally looked up to see what she was talking about. you stared at a few people, most notably someone you hadn’t expected to see, “is that Timothy Thatcher?” you asked her, surprised at seeing him. 

she nodded, “I had no idea he signed here,” you told her, as the manager of the performance center showed him around. Candice shrugged, “me either but hey, it’s nice to see him finally make his way here,” she admitted as you nodded in agreement. 

you knew of Timothy because of Marcel. the two were close because of their days back in wXw and the independent scene. although you hadn’t met him personally, you knew everyone on Marcel’s faction was super close to him. 

“i’m going to go buy a Red Bull, want anything?” 

“a water!” 

you nodded, grabbing your wallet and making your way to the vending machine not too far from where catering was at. you kicked the small scrap piece of paper that was on the floor as you overheard the conversation was having with his girlfriend. 

a part of you wanted to just go over there and scream at him for breaking your heart and not giving you closure on the relationship but you knew it was no use. you would gain nothing from it and all it would do would make you look like the crazy ex girlfriend. 

“hey! where ya sitting?” you heard Johnny ask you from across the hall. you pointed to catering, “with your wife! i’ll meet you there in a sec!” you screamed back as you put in your money for the energy drink. 

being that your mind was still preoccupied with your previous thoughts, you hadn’t realized that you still hadn’t punched in the button for your drink until you heard someone clear their throat, “oh, i’m sorry! i didn’t realize i was keeping the line up,” you stated apologetically. you quickly put in the money for Candice’s water and snatched it from the bottom.

you finally looked up and smiled softly, “sorry again,” you whispered as you realized that it was Timothy who was waiting, “oh, you’re Timothy Thatcher, right?” you asked a bit excitedly. he nodded, “big fan! loved watching your matches in wXw,” you added on. 

Tim smiled and shook your hand, “likewise, you’re a great performer,” he replied, as he saw the way your eyes lit up as you continued to talk to him and he couldn’t deny the fact that he actually noticed he was trying to keep the conversation alive, “wow, so, do you think you’ll be ready for next weeks taping?” you asked. 

“possibly. a few of the trainers might keep me working out until the end of the month until they find me someone to feud with,” you nodded understandingly, “ahh, that sucks, I expected you to be on quicker than that but I have to go before the trainers kill me for being late,” you said, giving him a small wave before jogging away. 

not long after, Alex, who had saw the entire interaction walked up to him, “you friends with ( your name )?” he asked, genuinely curious. Tim didn’t exactly reply and only shrugged, “well if you are, she’s super nice,” Alex murmured, “and could use someone to actually get over what Marcel said,” he said it so quietly that Tim couldn’t exactly figure out what he had said. 

Alex thought of you as a sister and absolutely loathed what Marcel did to you. he thought it was super ridiculous of Marcel to not be up front about his feelings and just leave you hanging with no explanation to his actions. he could see the way the heartbreak was still affecting you till this day and wanted nothing more than to yell at him for bringing his new girlfriend around. 

“wait, what?” Tim asked, trying to get Alex to repeat himself, “no, it’s nothing,” he quickly said, “I just said she’s super nice and she’s kind of like a sister to me.” 

Tim didn’t bother to press the question as he heard commotion coming from the cafeteria area. the two of them peeked their heads in to see you chugging your Red Bull back as you quickly grabbed your things, “fuck, I didn’t think I was on tonight,” you screamed as Candice followed behind you. 

you booked it out the door as you didn’t pay Tim or Alex any attention. they saw the panic on your face, along with Candice’s as the both of you ran into the locker room, “one day Hunter is gonna kill her for that,” Alex laughed as they heard the panic screams from the locker room. 

the two of them sat inside of catering as you were quick to put on your gear and head to makeup. your match with Candince wasn’t exactly planned but Hunter had told you to get ready in case it did happen but time had slipped when you were speaking with Tim and now you had twenty minutes to get ready. 

by the time you and Candice finished, you had no less than a minute before your call time. you tried to dry your face as quick as possible but time was no longer on your side as you heard ‘Requiem in D Minor′ play through the speakers. your theme was one that followed you through the indies as you thought it always made a statement when it played. 

“interesting theme,” Tim told Alex as he nodded. your gear consisted of all black attire along with darkened makeup to match it. your personality however didn’t match your aesthetic at all. your personality was a lot more happy-go-lucky outside the ring. 

“yeah she picked it years ago and I guess it kind of stuck,” he explained as they watched you walk on the ramp, staring at the fans with a mocking smug look on your face, “ask Indi on her last with her and she’ll explain why the theme gives her nightmares till this day,” he joked. 

the two of them watched you slide into the ring with ease before Candice’s theme went off on the speakers next. you were leaning against the ropes, not bothered by the insults Candice was throwing at you as the ring announcer called the match to start. 

you quickly grabbed Candice by her shoulders and threw her over yours as she slammed onto the ring with a loud thud. Tim was shocked to see the way you picked her up without hesitation. it looked like it was no sweat off your back as you followed up your move with a flip off the top rope. 

Tim could see the way you were clearly getting the upper hand in the match. it was another twenty minutes of back and fourth until you climbed up on the top rope again and did a double flip in the air before grabbing Candice’s leg and tapping her out. 

your theme blared through the speakers as you swiftly moved out of the ring and walked back slowly to the back. you blew the crowed a menacing kiss before you were fully out of view and collapsed onto a chair to catch your breath. 

“can you please go easy next time,” Candice groaned as she sat next to you. you laughed, smacking her shoulder lightly, “relax, this is just payback for what you did last week to me,” you retorted as you saw Alex walk towards you, “what do you want, Wolfe?” you said with a shaky breath.

he laughed, sitting next to you, “have you met Tim?” he asked, knowing the obvious answer. “met him earlier at the vending machine,” you replied, waving at him again. Tim did the same as Alex smirked to himself, a bright idea popping into his head. 

“we should all catch dinner tonight,” you stared at Alex in question, “who is all?” you asked, making sure ‘all’ didn’t include Marcel, “you, me, Tim, Candice, and if Johnny wants to come along,” he replied. you sighed in relief, “i’m down if everyone else is,” you said. 

Tim and Candice agreed as you and Candice left it to Alex to figure out where to catch dinner. you showered as quickly as possible as Alex had sent you twenty different messages to hurry up before everything got booked up for the late night reservations. 

all you put on was leggings and a random wrestling t-shirt they had lying around for all of you to wear. although you hadn’t noticed what the shirt was, Alex couldn’t help but laugh seeing that it was one of Walter’s t-shirts. 

you met up with Alex, Candice, Johnny, and Tim at the front entrance of Full Sail. a few steps away was Marcel and his girlfriend talking to Fabian. you had no idea if Alex had even spoken to them but as soon as you arrived, all of you jumped into Alex’s car. 

“so, what made you want to come over here and wrestle?” Candice asked Tim as the three of you were squished in the back, “figured it was time to head back home,” he said. you weren’t exactly paying attention to the conversation but Tim for whatever reason couldn’t help but look at you every once in a while. 

Alex noticed it immediately and mentally high-fived himself. he knew Tim long enough to know when he was interested in someone and he was able to tell that he was slightly taking an interest with you. he saw the subtle looks he was giving you and knew that if he played his cards right, the two of you could end up dating. 

the restaurant Alex picked wasn’t far from Full Sail. it was in walking distance of the arena which you found odd that all of you had to pack into the car when you could’ve easily walked it there. 

the hostess quickly sat all of you when you arrived and Alex made sure to sit you on the edge of the table with Tim. he felt a bit bad knowing he was plotting you to get with his friend but he knew it would help you with getting over Marcel for once and knew that Tim would not do what Marcel did if you two ended up dating. 

throughout the dinner, all of you stuffed your faces with Greek food and talked for what felt like hours when in reality it was just an hour and a half. the conversation never died out, especially when it was just you and Tim talking. you found it a bit funny that the two of you hit it off so easily that it felt like you had known him for years. 

+

a few weeks passed as you remained by Tim and Alex’s side. within that time, you hadn’t realized that you were hardly thinking about Marcel and his girlfriend. your time was spent either training, going out with the small group all of you formed, or just texting Tim when you were able. 

you had given Tim your number the night all of you went out. Alex had told you that it was odd to see Tim actually engage in a conversation with someone. he wasn’t exactly the most extroverted person in the world and tried to keep his friend group tight but with you, it was just a different story as he put it. 

Tim had finally made his appearance on TV and considering his appearance caused everyone in the crowd to go crazy when he finally stepped onto the ring, all of you wanted to go and celebrate it. 

you also had a match previous to Tim’s segment and you had once again hadn’t realized what shirt you grabbed from the rack when you picked it. however, Alex did recognize it. it happened to be Tim’s. they were shirts that they had just put on the shops website. 

“nice shirt,” Tim joked as he pointed it out. you looked down and laughed as you read the grey colored t-shirt, “shut up, I didn’t even realize it,” you retorted as you sensed your phone going off. you saw that it was Alex texting you. 

you quickly read the message and immediately rolled your eyes, “he dropped out of dinner. I guess Imperium had segments to do after the taping,” you informed him, “Johnny and Candice couldn’t make it because Johnny injured himself tonight and she wanted to make sure he was okay.” 

“so I guess it’s just the two of us,” Tim replied. you nodded as the two of you had just decided it was best to catch dinner at your place instead of making the drive into downtown Orlando, “what are you making me?” he asked as the two of you walked inside. 

you thought for a moment, “ever try peanut butter stir fry? it sounds gross in theory but i’m telling you, it’s amazing when you actually try it,” you explained, putting all the ingredients on the counter, “count me in, I’ll help you with it,” Tim said. 

you had put on music in the background as you and Tim got to cooking. the meal took no more than fifteen minutes to cook before you piled up your plates together and sat down on your couch and dug into it. 

“so, have you met anyone?” you asked Tim, wiggling your eyebrows. he thought for a moment before laughing, “are you talking as in a girlfriend?” he asked. you nodded, “no, I don’t really date, plus, I sort of like someone already,” you were surprised at his confession while also a little saddened. 

a part of you had started to like Tim as he was the one who mended that piece of your heart that Marcel broke. Tim could see that you were taken back by the answer and chuckled. 

“it’s adorable that you haven’t figured it out yet,” he said, making you now confused, “do I know them?” you asked innocently. he rolled his eyes and got closer to your face, “you’re adorable, you know that?” he whispered before placing a quick kiss on your lips. 

all you tasted was the peanut butter on his lips when you immediately kissed back. the plates were set on the small coffee as he brought you in closer as you laid on top of him and situated yourself on his stomach, “i’m guessing it’s me?” you asked playfully, “no kidding,” he murmured before kissing you once again. 

Alex, who had felt his phone vibrate earlier in the night, finally looked to see who it was and excitedly opened it when he realized it was you. you had Snapped him a photo of you and Tim cooking dinner as Tim was slightly holding your waist. 

“oh wow,” Alex said loud enough to catch everyones attention, “what?” Fabian asked curiously. Alex showed the table the photo of the two of you, “guess ( your name ) and Tim are finally together,” Alex mentioned, a small smirk playing on his face. 

“what do you mean finally?” Marcel asked, “the two of them had been seeing each other for a while now and I guess he finally had the nerve to ask her out,” Alex was purposely laying it on thick as he saw the slight jealousy flair up in Marcel’s eyes. 

“good for them,” Walter murmured as Fabian agreed, “right? I can see them ending up married if I’m being honest.”

Marcel, who now was no longer interested in the conversation, checked your socials to see that Alex was right. you had a few photos up of you and Tim together on you Insta as he played your Insta story next. he saw a few photos of you before landing on the photos of tonight. 

you had taken a photo of you and Tim eating dinner. a part of him hated that it was Tim that you landed on to date but Marcel knew that he was the last person you could say anything. he knew you absolutely hated his guts because of how he broke up with you but he felt an annoying feeling plaguing his stomach at the thought of you dating Tim. 

[cdelphiki]

“Do you try to be this broody, or does it come naturally?” 

Damian didn’t even flinch at his brother’s voice suddenly penetrating the gentle silence he’d been enjoying. There was no way he’d give Tim the satisfaction of knowing he’d startled Damian. 

He’d come up to the roof to get some air and some space, away from everyone. The Kent’s apartment was normally too small for the four of them, but with most of his family there, too, it was downright tiny. 

Most of them had left after the party, a welcomed relief from the onslaught of socialization. Their presence was appreciated, of course, but after a few hours Damian had grown tired. People were exhausting. Especially when they all wanted to talk to him about everything. Fill him in on every little detail he’d missed, and learn all about his life in Metropolis. 

Tim, though, had been quiet most the day.  He and Jason joined the Kents for Damian’s birthday dinner, out at his favorite vegetarian joint down the street. But Tim hadn’t said more than a few sentences to Damian. He didn’t talk much in general, though, so Damian wasn’t taking it personally. Tim could be like that, sometimes. Quiet and reserved. 

“Probably naturally,” Tim said, as he finished crossing the roof and sat down next to Damian, letting his legs dangle over the side, too, “One of the side effects of being Batman’s son, huh?”

Damian exhaled, letting his breath be a little louder than normal. The only response he could muster at the moment.  He was tired. Exhausted. His tanks were empty and he was currently operating on the reserves. Conversation felt too difficult, at the moment.

Never in his life had he had this problem. Always, he’d had plenty of time to himself. If he interacted with other people, it was completely one-on-one, with an exception to missions or patrol. Or the rare family meeting, back at Father’s. Or the rarer family dinner. Even while staying at Titan’s Tower he had enough time to himself. His team cared about him, he had no doubt, but they left him be most the time. 

Everyone always did.

He’d been told he was difficult to be around…

But lately, that hadn’t been the case.

This roof was the only escape he had. 

As he’d grown more comfortable with Clark and Lois, it had been less of an issue. Their company sometimes felt the same as sitting alone. The same peace, that is, without the crushing feeling alone could sometimes carry.  

Laying on the couch, hiding in his hoody as he watched videos on his phone with Clark sitting on the opposite side of the room, watching the news, felt as relaxing as sitting on this roof. If he wanted attention, all he had to do was say, ‘Hey, Clark,’ and he’d have it.  But if he wanted silence, he could just stay silent. And he had that, as well.

It was… nice. 

Pleasant. 

Extremely so. 

Damian had never grown so comfortable around Father, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of that revelation. Not when he’d had it, a few weeks back, and certainly not now. He’d always been so worried about making his father proud. Not disappointing him. Maybe had he just let that go, their relationship would have been better…

“I know the song goes ‘it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to,’ but the party ended a few hours ago. So that ship has sailed.” Tim moved his hand in a whooshing motion, as if setting a ship off himself, and Damian could see the goofy little grin tugging at the edge of his lips. He was pleased with himself. What a dork. 

“I’m not crying,” Damian said, matter of factly. 

“Good, because again,” Tim said, repeating the motion right in front of Damian’s face, this time, “ship: sailed.”

Rolling his eyes, Damian slumped a little and asked, “Why are you here?”

“Clark said you were up here.” 

 “No,” Damian sighed, then paused to take a breath and sit back up. Muster up the energy to actually talk to his brother. When was the last time he’d talked to Tim? Alone? About anything? 

He couldn’t remember.

“I meant here,” he continued, “Today.” 

“What?” Tim said, laughing a little, “I can’t want to spend time with my little brother on his birthday?”

Brother. 

Damian’s not sure either of them have ever admitted that aloud. He’d accepted it, of course. Years ago, actually. But pride always prevented him from backing down from the rivalry they’d built up. Pride and hurt feelings.  

“Tt,” he huffed, “You never have before.”

Even now, it was a difficult habit to suppress. He already hated himself for it, but this was their pattern. Tim would say something insulting back, probably about how Damian was so difficult or ‘such a brat,’ and Damian would call him pointless, and then Tim would leave him alone. Let him get his rest. 

The weird part, though, was Damian didn’t really want that.   

“I know,” Tim said quietly, his face sobering as he looked out over the city lights, “I’m sorry.”

That got Damian to blink. Once. Twice. He looked over at Tim and stared for a good second before he asked, “What?” Because he had to have hallucinated that. Tim was not following the script. 

“I’m sorry,” Tim repeated, “It must have felt like we abandoned you after… After. I kept meaning to reach out, to text you, but we don’t—We didn’t have a good…” Tim sighed, pausing to take a breath and run his hand through his hair, “And I kept talking myself out of it. Telling myself you wouldn’t appreciate it. So. Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Damian said lamely, looking back out at the lights of the city. All the tiny little cars, white and red lights going in all different directions.  Kind of like their family, as of late.  All over the place and avoiding one another.  

Because in reality, Damian hadn’t tried to contact any of them, either. Not Tim. Not Jason. Not… Ric.  

At first, it was because he was confused. He didn’t know how to feel after Father had… lashed out. At Timothy. That was not something Father did. He only struck other adults. Never children. And while Damian loathed to admit it, he and Tim were, indeed, children.  At least in the eyes of the law. And once, in the eyes of Father. 

But somewhere along the way he’d changed his rules. 

And Damian wanted to blame anyone but Father. Because Father was Father. Damian had grown up looking up to the incredible Batman, the infallible man that was his father. 

‘No one’s perfect,’ Dick had always said. For some reason, it had been a difficult concept to apply to his father.  

So, he figured Tim must have deserved it. Clearly. After all, Damian had always earned the strikes made against him as a child.  

“I may not have,” he admitted, closing his eyes to block out the sight of Tim tensing. Because he’d been so angry with Tim, there for a while. Right up until that morning, when Tim showed up at the front door.

Now. 

Now Damian didn’t know what to think. Because he was fairly certain his father had forgotten his birthday, again. And was likely reminded by Alfred to call him. But, Father had reached out to him a few times since he moved in with the Kents, and Tim never had. 

“Why not?” Tim asked carefully, his voice only giving off curiosity. Not the anxiety he’d sensed before. 

And Damian was intensely aware of their position. Sitting on the edge of the roof of a high rise, about 10 stories up.

He would never push Tim off. 

Or…

He would have. Four years ago. But not now.  No matter what Tim did, or how his actions affected their family. His overreactions. Really, that’s what all this was. An overreaction. 

“Oh my god,” Tim whined, “You’re just like Jason.” 

Damian scowled at that, because he was nothing like Jason. Nothing. 

“You are,” Tim said, clearly reading his thoughts now, “You two think alike. He thought everything was my fault, too.”

“I didn’t say that,” Damian protested, but could feel his face heat. He felt like a small child caught sneaking into the kitchens to swipe chocolate chips. When had Tim learned to read him so well? He couldn’t read Timothy hardly at all.

“So you don’t think it’s my fault?” Tim challenged.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Daman met his gaze straight on and said, “I think you overreacted, and then everyone else overreacted.”

“Was what Bruce did wrong?”

It was uncalled for, Damian thought. Unless Drake had done something earlier in the night, Father had overreacted, as well.

Overreactions all around. 

Damian jumped when Tim smacked him on the shoulder, just hard enough for him to feel, but no where near hard enough to actually cause pain.  

“What the hell?” he asked, anyway, because hello, sitting on the edge of a roof here. Why would he try to start a fight like that? 

“Was that your fault?” Tim asked, the challenge still in his voice, his gaze hard.  

And Damian had already followed Tim’s train of thought right down to the conclusion.

But he wasn’t a willing passenger on this train and he was nothing if not obstinate.

“Yes,” he said evenly, holding Tim’s challenging eyes. 

“Yes?” Tim scoffed, “How.”

“I should have blocked.” It wasn’t untrue, after all. Four years ago, Tim would have never been able to touch him at all. He would have seen the attack coming and dodged, then counterattacked. He’d grown complacent over the years.  Dropped his guard and stopped watching. 

Tim offered a half smile, and Damian realized he’d probably just answered wrong. Because it was clear Tim knew exactly how to win this argument, now. “And why didn’t you, Damian? I know you’re capable of doing so.” 

Damian opened his mouth, but then snapped it back shut. Pouted at Tim. He saw his error, now. 

“Come on, just be honest. I’m not trying to make fun of you. Why didn’t you block?”

“I was not expecting the strike,” he bit out, shifting his gaze back out to the city. So at least he wouldn’t have to watch Tim’s victorious grin. 

“Right. Why?”

“Drake,” he complained, crossing his arms and slumping down a little more. He kind of wanted to go back to the quiet from earlier. Reserved Tim with tired Damian. 

“Why Damian,” Tim insisted, leaning forward a little dangerously to look right at Damian’s face, “Why weren’t you expecting me to hit you?”

Damian sat back up so Tim wouldn’t kill himself trying to look at him. “Because, in my experience it is not something you do.” 

Tim rolled his hand, as if to say ‘keep going,’ so Damian rolled his eyes.

“I have known you for years. You are my ally. We are not currently engaged in a fight. I am at home. You- You’re…”

“I’m your brother,” Tim supplied, and Damian just shrugged, so Tim added, “You’re safe with me.”

“Yes, Drake,” he exasperated. He hated conversations like this. They did nothing to help the exhausted in him. This was almost too much for his reserve tanks to handle. “Your point.” 

“Do you know who I thought I was safe with?” 

Damian shifted, looked down at his hands. Perhaps that was their problem. They’d let their guard down when they should not have. They were in the middle of a war, after all. 

“Do you know what child abuse is?” 

“Father is not an abuser,” Damian asserted, snapping his attention back up to glower at Tim. Damian knew what abuse was. And Father hitting Drake one. time. was not abuse. 

“If you saw a random civilian punch his child—his teenager, would you call that abuse?” 

Damian just scowled harder, refused to answer. 

Because… Because yeah. Maybe. He’d definitely step in and intervene. Figure out what was going on. 

Get the kid away, if needed…

“Right,” Tim said, as if he were still reading his damn thoughts, “and if you saw that same man hit his children repeatedly. Three of them. And beat a couple of them enough to cause serious injury, what would you call that?”

“Abuse,” he breathed, rubbing at his face. 

“And would it be the kid’s fault or the adult’s fault?”

“Drake,” he begged, because he wanted to drop this. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He’d quit blaming Tim if he just let it go. 

“Damian,” Tim said, grabbing onto his shoulders and turning him so they were facing each other completely, “this is important. You need to understand.”

“It would be the adult’s fault,” he said quickly, and added with, to his horror, a touch of panic, “But Tim, he’s Father.” 

He could feel the stinging, just below his eyes, and the last thing he wanted to do was cry. 

Father was coming to visit him tomorrow. He couldn’t just… he didn’t need this. 

“I know kid,” Tim said, letting go of Damian, “I know. But that doesn’t make what he did right.” 

“But he’s never hit me,” Damian whispered. He was fairly certain if he spoke any louder, his voice would crack. And then he’d be a goner. No turning back.

“Yeah,” Tim whispered back, wrapping an arm around Damian’s shoulders and tugging him a little closer, “I used to say the same thing.”

They had been wrong, hadn’t they? To feel safe. It wasn’t just because they were at war while out in the streets.  It was because Father was at war. With himself. With his demons.  And he hadn’t been handling that well for years.  

No wonder Dick didn’t want to have anything to do with them anymore.  He lost his memories, and therefore any sense of obligation to the rest of them. It was an out for him, and Damian wasn’t sure he blamed him. 

And Jason… Jason had reason to leave years ago. Honestly, he should have never come back to Gotham. Had Father treated Damian the way he treated Todd, he’s not sure he would have returned. Shooting the Penguin was certainly not deserving of the beating he took. Damian had known that even at the time, but he’d been so blinded by his devotion to his father and his… dislike… of his brother to do anything about it. To object.

That was all it took. Hot tears spilled out and he let himself sink into Tim’s hold a little more.  Tim wasn’t Dick. Not by a long shot. But he wasn’t a terrible substitute, either. 

Especially not since he now knew Tim cared about him. Evidenced by this entire day, and Clark’s words earlier still ringing in his ears. 

And Jason, too. 

He didn’t deserve any of their love. He’d been so unfair to them, for months.  For years. 

“It’s all right,” Tim soothed, wrapping his other arm around Damian in a full hug, “It’s going to work out, you know? We’ll figure it out.” 

“Why aren’t you upset about this,” Damian asked a little petulantly, a minute later after he’d regained control of himself. He’d never been much of a cryer, after all.  

“Don’t worry, I already cried into Jason’s shirt. So we’re even.” 

Despite himself, Damian laughed as he scrubbed his face clean. It was a funny thought, the Red Hood letting Tim cry into his shirt. 

Tim pushed at his shoulder a little, playfully, and said, “You’re such a brat.” 

It was crazy, what this whole mess had created. Tim and Damian talking to each other. Tim and Jason doing the same. Really, what Damian had though broke their family merely made it stronger. Just, without Father. 

He had no doubt that he’d be seeing Tim a lot more often, now. And Jason, too, most likely. If they were really as close as Damian had gleaned from their interactions today.  

“Damian,” Tim asked, his face sobering, “Are you happy here? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Tim,” Damian said, not needed to even think about it. Because he’d thought about it a lot. Especially today. “I’m good.” 

“Good,” came the reply, as Tim nodded slowly and seemed to get lost in his own thoughts, “That’s good. I’m glad.” 

“What about you? Are you happy?”

“I’m,” Tim started, then paused and blinked, like he wasn’t sure what to say. Or how to respond. Eventually, he settled with, “I’ll get there.” 

“Well,” Damian started, but trailed off.  He flushed a little, because what right did he have to offer any sort of support to Tim? He wasn’t quite sure how, either. 

It didn’t matter, though, because Tim as always picked up on his meaning and smiled.  “Brothers gotta stick together.” 

“Yeah.”

“It’s getting late. Jay and I have to get back to Gotham, but we won’t be strangers anymore, okay?”

“Sure,” Damian agreed, flipping his legs up back onto the roof to slide off the wall they’d been sitting on. The one meant to keep them from doing stupid things like sit on the edge.  

Damian had no doubt that Clark kept his ear on them the entire time. Maybe not actually listening to the words, but listening for any distress. He tended to do that. If either of them had fallen, he was certain Superman would have appeared and caught them.  

“We’ll come visit,” Tim followed Damian’s lead and stood, “How’s next weekend?” 

“Works for me.” 

It was perfect, actually.  Unless the Titans needed him, he would have spent the weekend doing a lot of nothing. But a lot of nothing could be quite fun, when it was done in the Kent’s apartment. 

“Perfect.” Tim hesitated for a second, but then pulled Damian into another hug. It happened so fast, Damian hadn’t time to react before Tim was crossing the roof and escaping to the stairwell, throwing out a, “Later, squirt,” over his shoulder as he did. 

But Damian could feel all the words Tim wanted to say, but couldn’t get out.  

And yeah, Clark was definitely right. And if Tim loved him, perhaps it wasn’t too large a leap to believe the rest of them did, too. 

-

Series on Ao3: /works/19310035

[mymoodwriting]

Kindness Goes A Long Way

F!Reader x Sicheng

Genre: Post Apocalypse AU

Warning: Mind Control, Manipulation, Illness, Aggression

Words: 2.4K

Chapters:

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Epilogue

Prompt: The end of the world is hard to accept as it is, but it’s even harder to be alone. It seems fate had brought you to Sicheng, someone who can definitely survive in the abandoned waste land that had become of Earth. You then find yourself with a group of others, and you might just have a chance at survival. The only problem is there’s something off about the group, something they’re not telling you, and it might mean the difference between life and death.

“What happened!”

    Sicheng entered the medbay after being informed you ended up there last night. Of course he knew, he was the one who caused the incident, but he had to admit he was curious what the humans would come up with. Although before he could get his answer he glared at the boy sitting by your bed.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Her friend.” Haechan got up. “Any you?”

“Y/n, doesn’t have any friends.”

“I knew her before the war.”

“Sure you did.” Sicheng focused on Johnny. “What happened?”

“She fainted.” Haechan answered. “You never said who you were or how you know y/n?”

“None of your business.”

“It is my business. If you were with her out there then she could be hurt cause of you!”

“Enough!” Johnny shouted. “Both of you calm down alright. Y/n’s fine, but she probably fainted from seeing you, Haechan.”

“What?”

“She hasn’t had the best time out there in the wasteland that was Earth.”

“What does that mean?”

“She-”

“Johnny.” Sicheng hissed. “I appreciate it if you don’t blab about her situation. If she wants to tell him she can, later.”

“Right. I just mean seeing a familiar face, she probably didn’t expect to see an old friend again, and the emotions probably overwhelmed her and cause her to faint. Like I said, she’s fine, and she should be waking up soon.”

“I agree.”

    Kun had been listening in to the conversation from the start, also knowing what Sicheng had done last night.

“No.”

“Sicheng, I will wake her up myself.”

“I said no.”

“The longer she’s under, the more suspicious they’ll get.”

“Fine, fine whatever.”

    Sicheng gently pet your head, you were peaceful, and at least you got enough sleep too. He leaned down and kissed your head, stepping back. He couldn’t see but behind him Haechan was glaring. A moment later you groaned and slowly opened your eyes. You looked around, taking in your surroundings and recognizing the medbay.

“What happened…”

“I don’t know.” Sicheng laughed. “You tell us.”

“I… I don’t remember…”

“What do you remember?” Johnny asked. “The last thing?”

“I went to bed… at least I thought I went to bed…”

“Okay, well, I needed to run some tests anyway.”

“Alright…” You looked at Sicheng, worried. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine y/n.” He kissed your head. “I have to get going, so just take it easy today.”

“I’ll stay then.” Haechan volunteered. “For support.”

“Yeah, no.” Johnny said. “Both of you leave. I do take doctor patient confidentiality seriously, so out.”

♥♥♥♥♥

    Haechan and Sicheng already didn’t seem to like each other, but that was a problem for another time. Later on Haechan returned to the infirmary, but you were already gone. Nothing bad had come up from the tests, so there wasn’t anything to worry about.

“Can I ask…” Haechan mumbled. “What happened… to her…”

“I suppose I can tell you since I doubt she’d want to speak of it.”

    Johnny told Haechan about the incident you had been through, how you didn’t really trust people anymore, except for maybe Sicheng and his group. Knowing that, it would make more sense why you passed out, Haechan wasn’t just people, but an old friend, so those two memories would most likely clash.

“I guess that makes sense but…”

“But what?”

“Look… we need to keep this a secret, just between us.”

“Okay? What is it?”

“Last night, while I was talking with y/n, before she passed out, she told me to help her.”

“And?”

“Then she passed out.”

“I don’t get it.”

“She was trying to tell me something.”

“Or maybe she knew she was going to faint and asked you for help so she didn’t hit the ground.”

“I don’t know though, it was very weird… and she doesn’t remember what happened.”

“It might come back to her or not, she seems fine either way.”

“Stil…”

“Well she works in the kitchen, all the way in the back, if you’re curious.”

“Really? Thanks, hyung.”

“Whatever, but hey, I know you guys knew each other before, but you can’t forget the world has changed, she has, and so have you. Take things slow.”

“Yeah… yeah I got it.”

♥♥♥♥♥

    At lunch time Haechan made his way into the kitchen, looking around for you. It wasn’t that hard to find you given how isolated and quiet you were. He manages to convince you to join him for lunch, out in the cafeteria. You certainly were nervous but at least you were with Haechan, someone you knew, so you felt like you’d be okay.

    Of course the issue was that people knew Haechan so they would greet him, and some probably would have sat down if not for some look they were given. Besides eating you guys used the time to catch up. You didn’t want to talk about your situation, and he knew it, so he mostly just told you how he ended up there, and what he did, he worked on the farms.

“Ah, so you provided all the vegetables.”

“I help with that, yeah.”

“I’m glad… I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too.”

    You wanted to take things slow, but at the same time you didn’t want to be close to him. Things weren’t going to end well, and you didn’t know if you could handle it. If you could tell Haechan the truth you would, but no matter how bad you wanted to, you knew you couldn’t. After a shower you were ready for bed, but Sicheng was waiting for you. Before you could say anything he grabbed your head and started looking through your memories from last time. He could have done it before, but it was easier to do when you were much closer.

    Of course the memory of that kiss came up, and you weren’t expecting Sicheng to take it well. When his eyes opened they kept that blue glow, and for once it was menacing. Worst of all he didn’t just see the kiss, he knew how you felt about it, and that little call for help. He was upset, angry, something you didn’t know he’d ever feel. You couldn’t help but start tearing up, afraid of what was going to happen next.

“So that’s why your heart beat suddenly rose? You kissed him?”

“I-”

“Did you like it? Do you like him? You don’t have to answer that cause I know.”

“Please… please don’t kill him…”

“That’s not up to either of us.”

“Sicheng-”

“Shut up. No more late night walks. You’re causing unnecessary trouble, and seeing him is messing with your head.”

“But I-”

“Have you forgotten what happened to you out there? Who saved you? Humans can’t be trusted, you just turn on each other and hurt on another. We’re trying to help your kind, and all I need you to do right now is lay low and behave.”

“Not like I have a choice…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing…”

“I’m just doing what’s best for you, all of you. Trust me, and behave.”

“I don’t want him to die… Sicheng, ple-”

    You passed out in his arms, having been put to sleep. Sicheng sighed, his eyes finally losing their glow, and put you into bed. He sat on the edge, annoyed with himself as well for these feelings of jealousy. If anything, he was the one causing unnecessary trouble.

“I don’t get it.” Hendery said. “I thought the memory change would make it so she wouldn’t trust any humans.”

“Yeah, but she knew Haechan before that.” Ten said. “Those feelings of mistrust wouldn’t really apply to him given their past.”

“Guess Sicheng didn’t think of that.”

“The likeliness of someone from y/n’s past being here was very low.” Xiaojun added. “Although still very possible. So, what are you gonna do?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with it.”

    Sicheng sighed and laid down, putting a chip on your head and pulling you into his arms. As much as he wanted to avoid the subject he needed to know more. While you slept he took the time to look through your memories of Haechan, see who he was and what he meant to you. He hated it, seeing how happy he made you, the history between you two. He wanted his chance as well, but he was on mission right now, so he couldn’t do that, although he could do something else for his own benefit.

    You started squirming in Sicheng’s arms, whimpering and wanting to wake up, but couldn’t. Sicheng had brought up his fabricated memories of the massacre you witnessed, and kept you under, in a way forcing you to relive it. You were sobbing in his arms, and even if you weren’t awake, you felt better being so close to him. He knew that of course, and it was the point, should keep you away from Haechan for a while.

♥♥♥♥♥

    In the morning you seemed pretty shaken up, quiet and reserved. You didn’t want to leave the room, the memories of that day fresh in your mind. Of course that wasn’t really an option, you had to earn your keep there.

“Bad dream?”

“Something like that…”

“Maybe you should stay in today.”

“I can’t… I’m fine…”

“You sure?”

“Yeah… yeah I’ll be fine.”

“Okay then.”

    Sicheng got you on your feet, seeing how sad you were. He regretted his actions a bit but it was necessary. He watched you for a bit then slowly leaned over to kiss you. It caught you off guard a bit, given how soft and slow he was being. You kissed back, wondering what his lips taste like. He wasn’t cold, in fact he felt human, he felt real, but you knew he wasn’t. In the moment though you could pretend a bit. He pulled away, looking at you, seeing how you had closed your eyes. You looked at him, not sure what to say. He seemed content with your reaction, brushing some hair behind your ear.

“Take it easy today okay.”

“Yeah.”

♥♥♥♥♥

    Knowing you were around added something more to Haechan’s everyday life. When he had free time during the day he’d like to go find you, although things didn’t always go his way. He went to the back, hoping to share a meal with you again.

“Um… no thanks… maybe some other time.”

“Oh, are you alright?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… just… bad dream. I’d like to be left alone.”

“Ah… yeah, yeah sure…”

    It was weird, but at least Haechan could understand your situation a bit. He wanted to help you feel better, thinking maybe if he could get some sweets from the vault might help. Of course he had to beg Mark for access since things like sweets were rare and mostly for kids. Although as he made his way to the kitchen when he knew it was the end of your shift he froze.

    He could see you in Sicheng’s arms, dry tears on your face. It made sense, as much as he would want to comfort you, Sicheng was the hero of that nightmare. He had to admit he was weary of that guy, or maybe his suspicions was just jealousy, either way he should look into it. Since he wasn’t going to be seeing you for the rest of the day he went to his usual hangout place.

“You know, you’re here so often, you might as well apply to transfer to the medbay.” Johnny said. “I could use an assistant.”

“You think they’d let me?”

“Sure, especially if I ask.”

“What is there to do here anyway?”

“Organize, keep record of medicine expiration, do check ups on residents. Basic stuff, I could teach you.”

“I’ll consider it, although can I ask you for a favor?”

“What’s up.”

“Y/n had a nightmare. She was pretty distant today, you think you can check in on her.”

“A nightmare?”

“Yeah, probably about what happened.”

“Ah, gotcha. I’ll check up on her then. See if you were my assistant I could have you do that.”

“I’ll consider switching jobs then.”

“Not a bad idea, promise.”

♥♥♥♥♥

    Johnny and Haechan had come into the safe haven together, so they were pretty close. So when his friend asked him to check in on you over a nightmare he would keep his word. Before the usual curfew time came to pass Johnny went over to your room. He knocked, opening the door and peeking in a bit after not getting an answer. He saw your figure in bed and let himself in, going over. He knew you shared a room with Sicheng, but for the most part that boy stayed up pretty late on the daily.

“Hey, y/n.” He whispered. “Y/n…”

    As he approached he could see that you were sleeping, laying on your side. At least you weren’t tossing around so it wasn’t a bad dream, yet. He reached over and shaked you but got no response. He tried again, this time rolling you on your back and jumping back, hand over his mouth. Now that he could see your face he could see the chip on your head, and he knew what that meant.

    He was panicking to say the least, and he knew he had to leave. You rolled back on your side, making it so no one coming in would notice it. Johnny quietly rushed out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind him.

“What are you doing?”

    Sicheng’s sudden voice and appearance startled Johnny, but he quickly composed himself. He forced a smile to his face, since he was your roommate, he was very suspicious.

“You scared me there.” Johnny laughed. “I was just coming to check on y/n, make sure she’s okay. I thought she might still be awake but I could see she was sleeping and backed out. I promise I didn’t creep in there. Can you tell her to come by to see me tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll let her know.”

“Thanks. See you around.”

    Sicheng watched him leave, thinking it was a bit strange to see him, but doctors do make house calls so he shrugged it off. He went into the room, seeing that you were still asleep exactly how he left you. If everything kept going to plan, this would all be over soon enough.

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

You punch like a girl (young!batsis)(OS)

Warnings: None Word count: 1559 Summary: young!Batsis defends the girls in her school against a bully

He was at it again. Rico Ware. Meanest boy in the whole third grade. Your definition of a bully. It wasn't like he bullied you, he knew about your older siblings and your dad, but every other girl in your class (and the other classes). You wanted to make things right and bring justice over your primary school (you're Bruce Wayne's/Batman's daughter after all), but you knew if you'd tell the teacher you'd be known as a 'killjoy' for the rest of your school-life, so you did the thing you thought your older siblings would do:  you challenged him. He towered over you in all physical categories: He was at least a head taller than you, wider and more likely stronger, but your brothers tried to teach you fighting (behind Bruce's back, even though he also did it) since you were able to walk. 

At first, Rico laughed at you for thinking that you could defeat him, but when you called him a coward he was all in. In the next break, every student knew that Y/N Wayne wanted to fight against Rico Ware, the boy even fourth graders didn't get in trouble with, after school, in the park a street over. At least ten people tried to talk you out of it, twenty told you that they wished you good luck, five made fun of you and a boy (who had a crush on you) told you that he would call an ambulance if something serious happens. You just rolled your eyes and continued with your day.

Then the moment came. The school was over. Class dismissed. All the kids ran over to the park. When you arrived there was a crowd of kids standing in a circle around someone and when the outer circle saw you it got quiet, except for whispers, and the crowd parted for you to walk through. In the middle of the circle stood, as you expected, Rico, with his sleeves rolled up, surrounded by his so-called 'gang'. "Thought you wouldn't come, dwarfy," he said and you responded with a huff, took your backpack off, laid it down onto the ground and took the cardigan off that Jason gave you when he visited last time. "Ready, Ricardo?" you asked teasing him with his full name that you only knew because Tim once taught you how to do research properly. He made a noise that sounded almost like a bark and faster then you could react you felt a sharp pain in your face. The kids around you went silent immediately and only a few gasps were hearable. It seemed like all the other kids just then realized how serious this was. Rico had punched you in the face, but you were pretty sure that your nose wasn't broken. You got up again since his punch threw you to the floor, and wiped the back of your hand over your nose to stop the blood dripping down from it. "Are you ready to give up and admit that this was the stupidest idea you ever had?" he asked in a baby voice. You took your hands down, ignoring your bleeding nose, and got into a fighting stance. A small smirk made its way onto your lips and with only five words the real 'fight' started. "You punch like a girl." Only seconds after the words left your mouth Rico came charging at you, unguarded just as you wanted. He tried to slap you, but you used your smallness to dodge it, duck under it and kick him with your heel in the back of his knee-cap. Surprised, Rico tripped over, but grabbed behind him, trying to take you down with him, but (unfortunately for Rico and very fortunately for you) Damian taught you only a few days ago what you should do in such a situation. You did exactly as you were told and used his hand to your advantage, grabbing it and locking it behind Ricos back making him cry out in pain. All you school-mates stood around you stunned and with their jaws dropped. You let go of Rico -who was sobbing and sniffing by now- and happily hopped over to your backpack, picked it up and turned around one last time, smiling and said: "I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop to bully girls who can't defend themselves or I'm going to defend them again." Rico just nodded and mumbled an apologie, before you turned around and happily walked out of the park, some kids still being dumbfounded, some cheering a bit, but all of them making space for you. 

You looked at the cute, melon-patterned watch on your wrist only to see that it was almost 3:30 p.m. and that you needed to hurry to meet Jason (who wanted to pick you up from school since he hasn't seen you in almost a month) at the entrance of your school. With that in mind, you started to sprint back to the school and through the building (that was luckily still open) and to the entrance. You got super-happy -and confused- when you saw your brothers, Cass and your Dad standing at the wall outside of the school. "Daddy!" you squeaked and ran over to your father. He picked you up, spun you around and after a few rounds he hold you under your armpits a few centimeters away from him. His happy smile (which was specifically reserved for you) got replaced by a very worried expression. "What happened?" he asked, sitting you down onto the hood of the car that stood behind him. Your siblings looked at you and instantly shared Bruce's worried expression. That's when you remembered the blood that was most likely still running down your nose. You fastly brought your hand up to your nose to stop the blood and said, dampened by your hand: "Nothing! I...I fell down the stairs," you quickly, and badly, lied. "Y/N/N, you know that we don't like it when you lie to us. You know you can trust us don't you?" asked Dick, kneeling down in front of you and giving you a tissue. "I know," you mumbled and looked down at your feet. "Did someone did that to you?" asked Jason who already looked like he would start a fight with a first grader if necessary. You stayed silent, not wanting to lie to them anymore, but also not wanting them to know the truth. "You need to tell us shaqiqa (←sister in Arabic). We only want to help you," Damian said with one of his eyebrows raised in suspicion. Cass, who stayed silent the whole time, pushed Dick gently away from you, took your hands in her and simply said: "It's okay," and with that, you threw your arms around her and snuggled your face into the neck, but you weren't sad, you were excited. "I fought and I won," you shrieked and wiggled your legs. Everyone looked at you confused. "What?" asked Dick. His life came crumbling around him. His little princess couldn't get in fights. Hasn't he hold Jason back enough in her early youth? Where did he (or Bruce) make his (their) mistake? You let go of Cass, jumped off the hood and said, jumping a little bit: "We have this bully in our class, Rico, who always bullies my friends-" you started, but got interrupted by your Dad. "You have a bully in your class? Why haven't you told us?" You just shrugged and continued: "Doesn't matter...So this boy is super-mean and I couldn't let him continue that and so I  challenged him-" "You what?" asked Dick shocked. You help your hand up to silence him and proceeded: "He accepted, but then when our fight began, he punched me reeeeealllly hard into the face and said I should give up and called me a dwarf-" "I'm gonna kill him," said Damian, but you whined: "Let me finish," and he held his hands up in defense. "So. He punched me and called me dwarf, but I told him he punched like a girl and then he ran to me, but I was able to dodge him and that I used the move Damian taught me last Friday and  he apologized to all girls and said he'd never bully again," you finished with a proud smile in your face. "Yes. That's my little bird," chanted Jason and Damian gave you a High-five. Cass picked you up and gave you a kiss onto the forehead. "I'm really proud of you, little fighter." "I'm proud too, but next time: please come to us or go to your teachers when you have such a problem, okay?" asked Bruce, ruffling your hair. "Okay Daddy," you smiled up to him and started giggling when Dick grabbed you from Cassandra's grip and started tickling you. While you were laughing in delight from being tickled by Dick, Jason and Cass, Bruce looked down to his youngest son and said: "We're gonna have a serious conversation about teaching Y/N moves later." "You can make that to a family gathering. I know for a fact, that I'm not the only one who teaches her," replied Damian, making Bruce sigh and rub his temples (even though he kinda figured that this would happen someday).

"Where's my favorite nugget?" asked a familiar voice from behind you. All of you turned around to see Tim, slightly out of breath, running towards you. He hugged you and said. "Sorry, I'm late. What have I missed?"