#we love a protective and stubborn wayne in this house

[afewproblems]

In My Heart is a Memory (And There You'll Always Be) Part One

So! Awhile back now I received an anonymous prompt - which I can't post all of (yet) since it will spoil this new WIP which has gotten away from me in terms of length (as always). Needless to say we begin with Steddie childhood friends AU and continue from there!

Thank you to the nonny who sent me this beautiful prompt, I can't wait to take you on this journey!

Steve never thought it would end this way. 

He tries desperately again to loosen the fishing line that has wrapped itself around his foot, trapping him in the frigid grey water. Steve paddles up again to take a deeper breath only to find that he's unable to fully breach the surface enough to breathe.

He gulps down a mixture of water and air, sputtering as it hits his lungs and chokes his throat. He realises, deliriously, that he might actually die here, alone in the woods at twelve years old. 

This is why his mother had forbidden him from swimming in the lake, especially by himself; she had told him a million times not to go down there alone. 

Steve slips under again, watching as the last few bubbles of air fly towards the surface above him, his vision begins to tunnel as he belatedly wishes he had thought to tell someone that he was going to lovers lake that afternoon. 

Two strong hands suddenly appear on both sides of him, grasping Steve by the arms, hauling him out of the water. 

"Shit, he's caught on something, Ed, hand me my knife, hurry," a gruff voice says as Steve is dragged into a boat, he sputters and coughs, gasping for air as his lungs burn and seize.

"Is he okay?" another younger voice says anxiously. 

Steve opens his eyes just enough to find a wide pair of brown eyes staring back at him, a boy with a mop of curly hair sits beside Steve, he chews his lip nervously as the older man works on cutting away the tangle of old fishing line that had caught Steve earlier.

"This is why we always take our lines with us instead of leavin' em in the lake," the older man huffs as he severs the last knot holding Steve's leg, "he should be okay, you're lucky we were here kid".

All Steve can do is nod, his chest and throat still sore from his near drowning.

The other boy, Ed, inches closer but doesn't touch him, he looks around the boat with raised hands as though looking for some way to help.

"I think we're done fishing for today," the old man huffs, if he's anxious his voice doesn't show it, but Steve can see the worry in his dark eyes. 

"Give him your coat Ed, let's bring our catch home to warm up".

The words seem to jumpstart the other boy as he hurriedly shrugs off his jean jacket and draps it clumsily over Steve's shoulders.

"You got a name kid?" the man asks gently before his expression finally shifts to one of panic, "aw hell, we gotta warm you up, you ain't even shivering". 

"His lips are blue," Ed blurts out, his brow pinched with worry, "Wayne--"

"I see it, sit with him would ya, I'll get the engine going again," Wayne grunts out as he switches places with Eddie. The boat tips slightly as they move making Steve hiss as cold water tips over the side and onto his legs. 

"My name's Eddie," the teen yells over the roar of the engine motor as it jumps to life; he sits down on the bench across from him, "what's your name?"

"S-Steve," he manages to get out between chattering teeth, his body finally beginning to shake in an attempt to warm itself back up.

"Don't worry," Eddie murmurs sagely, "we'll take care of you, right Uncle Wayne?"

Wayne nods with a tight smile as he begins to steer the boat back to shore.

"I don't need the hospital," Steve grumbles from the back seat of the pickup truck, eliciting an exaggerated eye roll from Wayne in the rearview mirror.

Heat blasts from the vents as soon as they pull away from the dirt side road by the docks and Steve is finally starting to warm up. Wayne had helped him step his shaking limbs into his discarded clothing they found on docks, but his damp swim shorts had soaked through his jeans, leaving a small persistent shiver running through him.

"We ain't leaving it to chance kid," Wayne grouses at him, "you inhaled a lot of lake water back there and I've spent enough time in a boat to know you need to be checked out by a professional".

Steve pouts in the back seat next to Eddie who looks between Steve and his uncle with a sharp furrow between his brow.

"Couldn't we take him to our place Wayne, we can look after him there," Eddie says with a toothy grin, he winks at Steve before catching Wayne's unimpressed glare in the rearview mirror.

"No, hospital first," he grumbles but the words are without heat and if the fond smile is anything to go by, Wayne seems more exasperated than angry.

Which is good. 

Steve can't begin to picture how angry his own dad will be when he gets home. 

Maybe enough for the belt again.

He shivers again and feels a bony shoulder connect lightly with his own; Steve looks up to find Eddie staring again, this time with a shy smile.

"You good," Eddie asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice, "sorry 'bout him".

He holds up one hand to block Wayne's vision of Eddie's face and points towards his uncle into the palm of his hand, "the old man’s stubborn sometimes".

The absurdity startles a wild giggle out of Steve that Eddie soon matches.

Wayne keeps driving, his eyes travelling between the road and the rearview mirror at the two boys giggling in the backseat. Wayne shakes his head and smiles slightly as they pull onto Main Street.

"Are you at Hawkins Middle? I don't know if I've seen you there before," Eddie asks abruptly, interrupting the laughter.

"I'm going to the highschool next year which is kind of cool," Eddie continues, not waiting for Steve to answer which is almost a relief given the strange exhaustion settling in Steve’s bones the longer they sit there. 

"I heard from one of the other older kids at the tra--the park that there are a ton of clubs to join and even one for Dungeons and Dragons --you heard of it?"

Steve shakes his head, "is that like a board game or something?" 

Eddie barks out a laugh and launches into an explanation, the words tumbling out at a mile a minute to the point that Steve isn't sure what he's even talking about anymore.

"And you use your character traits to help decide what to do, then the roll you get from your dice determines if you are successful or not!" 

Steve frowns slightly, it doesn't sound like any board games he's ever heard of but it has dice, what else could it be? 

"It's hard to explain without like showing you the books," Eddie admits, picking at a stray thread from the hole in his jeans, "I'll show you later at school, maybe?" 

Steve can count on one hand the number of times he's actually been invited to hang out or play with another kid over the years that wasn't orchestrated by his mother.

He's not much for board games, but if that's what Eddie's inviting him to play, who is Steve to say no? 

"Do you get to fight Dragons? Like a knight?" Steve asks quietly, his throat still sore from earlier. He laughs when Eddie nods so excitedly his whole body practically vibrates before jumping into a new explanation of the different characters people could play.

Steve spends the whole time listening with a wide grin on his face. He doesn't think he's ever met someone who talks so much, but Eddie has so much to say and he wants to tell Steve of all people. 

He's too tired to add anything himself, the adrenalin from earlier seems to flow out of him, sinking into the back seat.

"Do you have Newson for English?" Eddie asks as they enter the hospital and Wayne takes them to the counter, he speaks with the nurse at the Emergency Room intake desk in a hushed voice, letting Steve and Eddie continue their conversation.

Steve shakes his head, feeling suddenly warm, much too warm and tired.

"Maybe we have the same lunch period, I want to show you the players handbook on Monday," Eddie practically vibrates beside him with excitement, "you can sit at my table and…Steve?" 

Eddie suddenly sounds so far away, Steve struggles to stay upright and sways heavily into the other boy's side. 

"Steve?!"

There's a commotion around him, people yelling and touching him suddenly, but he doesn't want that. He's so warm, it's hard to think, his vision begins to tunnel again.

The last thing he sees as a pair of gentle hands lay him down is Eddie worried brown eyes staring into his own as his world goes dark.

***

The first thing Steve realises when he wakes up, is that he's in a hospital bed.

The second is that he's alone.

The steady beat of the heart rate monitor almost lulls him back to sleep but he fights to stay awake. 

Steve peers around the room, spotting his mothers coat and purse on the chair in the corner. 

Shit. 

This is what he was hoping to avoid, his parents finding out he deliberately disobeyed their rules and landed himself in the hospital. 

Steve tries to sit up but the movement pulls at the strange tubing around his face and the IV in his arm. He hisses at the tug of the needle and flops back down against the flat pillow behind his head.

The heart rate monitor ticks up slightly at the movement, seemingly calling out to the nurses at the station outside.

As if on cue, a nurse steps into the room, followed by his mother. 

Diane Harrington always looked put together. Pearls, heels, never a hair out of place.

Today however, Diane's pale wane face stares at Steve in stony silence. No makeup, her hair sits flat against her head. A fine tremor runs over her clenched hands but she smooths down the front of her shirt to hide it.

"Looks like someone's awake," the nurse says with a kind smile. 

She picks up the chart at the edge of the bed as his mother walks around to the chair that has been pulled up closest to Steve's side. She doesn't sit.

The nurse is around his mom’s age, maybe a little older if the laugh lines around her mouth are any indication. Her blond hair is streaked with grey as well and pinned back to let the small white hat sit properly on top. Her light brown eyes trace over the page of his chart and a slight crease begins to form between them as she frowns slightly.

"What is it?" Diane says, the words come out smoothly; Steve tries to make eye contact with her, to see just how mad she is about this, how mad his dad will be when they get home, but she ignores his gaze.

"The doctor will be in shortly, he'll explain," she says apologetically before placing the chart back down at the edge of the bed.

"Steven," the nurse says softly as she walks towards him, on the side opposite his mother, "my name is Claudia, and myself and Doctor Sattler will be taking care of you today".

Steve nods, suddenly shy as Claudia reaches into the pocket of her white apron and shows Steve a long black tube with a shiny metal circle at one end, the other is split down the middle into two angled sections at the other end.

"Steven, this is a Stethoscope, I'm going to use it to listen to your heart and your lungs, so I'm going to need you to sit up, can you do that for me?" 

He nods and begins to shift, slowly this time to avoid jostling the IV this time. 

"Steven," Diane says sharply from her place beside the bed, she still isn't looking at him, "you need to answer when you're asked a question."

"Sorry," he mumbles, abashed at his mother's words.

Claudia's frown returns as her eyes dart between Steve and Diane, but she remains silent and simply places the stethoscope into her ears.

"This will be a little cold," Claudia warns as she lifts up his shirt to place the metal against his back, "okay, you're going to give me a big deep breath," she instructs softly, giving him a smile.

Steve breathes in, it's not painful, but there's an awful pressure in his chest that makes him wince, the strange whistling sound his breath makes also doesn't help.  

Claudia must notice because she tuts and tells him she just needs a few more breaths from him.

She moves the metal from his back to his chest and asks him to take two more deep breaths for her, on the last one his chest spasms and his throat constricts just enough to make him begin to cough horribly. 

Steve doubles over, uncaring this time of the pull on the IV, he can't seem to catch his breath this time.

Steve registers his mother and Claudia trying to speak to him and a gentle hand on his back rubbing in a soothing circle but all Steve can think is, I can't breathe, as he coughs up a glob of frothy pink liquid into the sheets covering his legs.

The steady beep of the heart rate monitor begins to increase to a constant frantic pulse, I can’t breathe, he wants to scream but his throat constricts around the words, it feels as though an elephant has sat itself in the middle of his chest as he registers something being pressed to his mouth and nose.

"Try to take a deep breath, one mississippi, two mississippi, that's it sweetheart," Claudia pats his back gently and keeps a steady hold of the mask over his face.

The pressure in his chest slowly begins to relent as he follows Claudia’s direction, one mississippi, two mississippi, in and out. The constant puff of air around his nose and mouth seems to finally be helping.

"You're going to give us even more grey hair before we discharge you huh kiddo," a new voice rumbles from the door.

Steve looks up wearily at a man in a white coat with horn rimmed glasses staring down at him. There is a kind smile on his face, much like the one Wayne had when he helped Steve exit their truck earlier that day. 

Was it still Saturday? Steve looks around again for the window, he could have sworn it was still light out.

"What are you giving him?" Diane whispers above Steve, she hazards a brief glance at him before looking back at the doctor who lifts a syringe to pump something into the IV tubing, but Steve isn’t paying attention, he’s trying to find the clock he had seen earlier on the far wall.

"Just something to help him breathe a little easier, that's all," the man says gently as he takes Steve's chart from the end of the bed where Claudia had left it.

"BP is a little low," Claudia murmurs, she lets go of the mask and lays Steve back down onto the bed, smoothing his hair back lightly as she leaves his bedside.

"Steven, my name is Dr. Sattler, I heard you had an interesting morning today?" 

Dr. Sattler gives Steve and his mother a warm smile as he places the chart back down on the bed, he eyes the machines at the bedside for a moment before taking Steve’s wrist gently in his hand and lifting the face of his watch up to meet his eyes.

He nods and lays Steve’s hand back down onto the bed, above the covers. 

Suddenly a bright light is shining into Steve's eyes, he winces slightly as it moves quickly, “Steven, can you tell me if you hit your head at all when you were in the lake today?” 

Steve tries to think back to the lake. He remembers getting his foot caught in the discarded fishing line, the feeling of water running down the back of his throat, filling his nose; the way the light began to fade as he sank down--

“Steven?” Dr. Sattler prompts again, his brow creases in the barest of frowns.

Steve swallows once and shakes his head as a shrill beeping noise fills the room, everyone flinches, whirling around to the machines before Steve's mother snatches her purse from the nearby chair and rips the buzzing pager out to turn it off.

She glares at the message, "I need to make a call, I'll be back". 

Dr. Sattler frowns but steps aside to allow Diane to sweep out of the room.

"Well Steven-"

"Can you call me Steve?" He asks, the words so quiet that Dr. Sattler and Claudia both tilt towards him to hear.

The doctor reaches for the chart again, his eyes flick to Claudia once before landing back on Steve with a small patient smile.

"Of course, Steve," he says deliberately before clearing his throat, "I'll wait for your mother to come back to go over our plan for you okay?" 

"Are you," he whispers, "am I going to need a shot?" Claudia tuts this time, coming around to the side of the bed to brush his hair away from his forehead, "you were so brave for your IV," she says brightly, "if you need another I'll hold your hand, how does that sound?" Steve blushes as his little face scrunches into a grimace. He knows he wasn't awake when they gave him the IV.

After a beat, he shakes his head, "It's okay, I'm not a baby". Claudia purses her lips and pats his hand gently, "I don't like needles either, sometimes I need someone to hold my hand, no shame in it, okay?"

Steve chews on that thought for a moment, rolling it around in his head, why would adults be scared of anything?

His dad had made it perfectly clear over the years what real men were like, and being afraid of things never once made the list.

Steve looks up at the nurse and meets her kind eyes, a softer brown than he'd ever seen before with fine lines in the corners creased into a smile.

"I'd hold your hand, Miss Claudia," Steve agrees eventually.

She smiles at him and pats his hand again before stepping away.

"I'll go find your mother, there's only one payphone on this floor so she can't be far," she asserts to Steve before making her way to the door. She whispers something to Dr. Sattler on her way out before disappearing through the door.

"While nurse Henderson tracks down your mother, I'll see if radiology has your scans ready, sit tight kiddo”.

Steve nods as the doctor tries for a small reassuring smile but the effect is lost in the tightness around his eyes. Dr. Sattler pushes open the door which swings back and forth as he disappears into the hallway, leaving Steve to lay back against the flat pillows and scratchy hospital sheets, with only the steady sound of the monitors and the clock on the wall to keep him company.  

A new wave of exhaustion sweeps over him suddenly, now that he’s alone. 

He wishes Eddie had managed to convince his uncle to let them just go back to their place, he would have been okay if they had just stayed in the truck - he probably wouldn’t have passed out if they had just gone to Eddie’s house.

Steve glares at the ceiling at the unfairness of it all, a small part of him knows that it’s for the best that Dr. Sattler and Miss Claudia are looking after him now, but what will his dad say about the hospital bills, or the bed rest?

He’s not sure how much time has passed. It’s been harder to keep track of here without a proper clock in the room but the sun has moved, carving long shadows in his room in between the copper evening light. He must have drifted off at some point since his mother has suddenly returned as well as Dr, Sattler. 

Miss Claudia is nowhere to be found and Steve finds himself feeling rather bereft at her absence. 

Diane Harrington stands beside his bed, her hands wrapped so tightly around the strap of her purse that her manicured nails dig into the palms of her hands and her knuckles have been stained white.  

Dr. Sattler stands in front of a large box affixed to the wall, it’s lit up with two translucent black and white images on it that the doctor keeps pointing to different areas of the strange lumpy white images while he talks.

“To put it simply, Mrs. Harrington, it’s not good”.

Oh.

Steve feels as though the bed beneath him has dropped away while Doctor Sattler continues speaking. 

Steve had aspirated a lot of water into his lungs while in the lake and was already in the beginning stages of pneumonia because of it. So Steve would need to stay on his course of antibiotics and oxygen for at least a week to let his lungs heal and rest as much as possible. 

Diane’s expression does not shift during the conversation, remaining artfully neutral the entire visit. She nods and asks questions about Steve’s medication and when he would be allowed to come home.

A flicker of something crosses her face when Dr. Sattler mentions the inhaler Steve would likely need to carry with him at all times.

“For how long?” she asks sharply as Dr. Sattler flips through Steve’s chart once more.

He hums and purses his lips, “honestly, it depends, he could need it for a few months, he could need it for the rest of his life,” he shakes his head and sets down the chart, “we need to see how his lungs look after the inflammation goes down to really be sure”.

“What does that mean?” Steve blurts out, drawing their gaze towards him. 

Steve bristles slightly as Diane shoots him the barest of glares. He’s the one in the hospital bed, he can’t even ask questions about what will happen to him?

“The tissue in the lungs is very sensitive and delicate,” Dr. Sattler continues, his words come out slowly as though he is carefully sifting through to choose the best ones, “so, what that means is you may need medication to help your lungs function properly”.

“Steven’s father was hoping for him to join the varsity swim team in the next few years,” Diane says wearily, the first hint of emotion finally seeping into her voice as she sinks into the chair holding her purse. 

Steve winces. 

It’s no secret that his father’s goal for Steve, his…expectation, is for his son to follow his example to the letter. 

Varsity swimming --perhaps even basketball if he takes after his father’s lithe frame of six foot two. Get into college on an athletics scholarship, graduate with a business degree to eventually take over the family business --not that Richard has ever once explained just exactly what he does for a living. 

Steve would then marry a nice girl, one he'll meet at college since Hawkins won't have any girls good enough for the Harringtons, and eventually pump out two grandkids for Diane to fawn over.

This was the plan for Steve’s life, there was no room for error.

“Mrs. Harrington, there’s no reason to think he won’t be able to do these things--”

But the words fall flat as Steve’s mother gets up from her chair and stalks out of the room, leaving a wake of disappointment and silence behind her. 

A lump begins to form in Steve’s throat and he tries to blink away the harsh sting in his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have gone to the lake that morning, he’d been told so many times never to go by himself, not when the Harringtons had their own beautiful inground pool installed just three summers ago. 

Dr. Sattler breathes out a long weighty sigh and lifts a hand to scratch at a missed patch of stubble on his chin.

He looks between the closed door and back at Steve, seeming to make a decision.

"Okay son," Doctor Sattler sighs, "you're going to hear things over the years about what you will or won't be able to do".

Steve lifts his hand up to wipe at his eyes as discreetly as he can with the doctor at the edge of his bed and nods.

"This does not need to define you, there are plenty of athletes out there with lung conditions and I would encourage you to keep active, it might actually benefit you to do so". 

Steve manages to hold back a scoff just barely and nods, dropping his gaze to his feet beneath the blankets.

"I'm not saying you need to go out and run a marathon," Doctor Sattler says dryly at the incredulous expression on his face.

"But you will need to keep them strong and exercise will help with that, so if you like swimming, keep swimming, okay kid?"

He pauses again and adds, "no smoking while you're at it". 

Steve's mouth drops open in protest, he's never smoked, well, not a full cigarette at least.

One of the neighbour kids, Tommy, had smuggled cigarettes out of his dad’s pants pocket and taken them to school for everyone to try. Steve had nearly thrown up at the taste and the feel of acrid smoke filling his nose and mouth.Tommy had laughed so hard about Steve spitting into the grass outside the baseball dugout and proceeded to tell everyone he could find. 

Steve still associated the taste of cigarettes with Tommy's laugh, the sound turning his stomach just as easily now.

Steve shakes his head under the doctor's unimpressed gaze, "I-I dont--"

Doctor Sattler raises his eyebrow and cuts Steve off with a sweep of his hand, "sure son, just make sure you don't continue, especially because your lungs are still growing and we want to capitalize on that as much as possible".

The doctor pats Steve's shoulder awkwardly, letting his heavy hand rest briefly before he turns away towards the door once more. 

"Anyway, I have a feeling you'll be getting a few more lectures in the future so that's enough out of me, you best settle in kiddo, you'll be here for at least a week".

Steve nods tiredly, he can hear his dad's voice in his head now, 'this is the stupidest thing you've ever done Steven--'

"Get some rest, no sense worrying about it now," Doctor Sattler says as he slips out into the hallway without a knowing furrowed brow.

And with that Steve is alone once more. 

The light outside his window is beginning to fade into the horizon; he wonders belatedly if Eddie will look for him on Monday.

Steve rolls over, ignoring the new sting behind his eyes and the heaviness in his lungs as he wonders how he can miss someone he just met this much.

Part Two Now Up!

[dairy-farmer]

You know what does get enough love in A/B/O fics? Betas. And they SHOULD!

I flat out REFUSE to believe they are just set dressing for the Grand Highschool TeleNovela Romances of Alphas and Omegas(tm). Because nature doesn't WORK that way!

You know what I think they DO do though? I think they keep the High Octane, High Drama, Hopped Up On Hormones And Lust, effectively drugged half the time, Designated (Offensive)HunterWarrior and (Defensive)NurtureWarrior at BIRTH groups? From killing each other.

Because you can't spell bloodlust with out lust!

Horny brain stupid. Maybe YOU wanna fuck, but if that Omega doesn't wanna fuck? Because they aren't in their Heat and therefore find you, an Alpha, "pushy and obnoxious"? Well... you try to rub up all on that, and they'll rip your dick off.

Or at least TRY too.

Needless to say. Violence. Scaring the pups, destroying infrastructure, nothings getting done today. UNLESS? Someone ELSE steps in and let's Horny Brain Alpha rub up all over their good bits!

And? It's much, MUCH harder to get a Beta pregnant unless you, yourself, are a Beta. They also don't get OMEGAS pregnant that often. Don't have NEARLY as strong a smell, which means they don't leave linger "Stink" all over your space...

Perfect buffers! Every pack needs some Beta! As pups they buffer the two "We have to play X because I SAID SO!" Groups, as teens they distract the two groups from trying to fuck/murder each other, and as adults?

Every healthy Alpha and Omega has at LEAST one Beta or Beta couple they can go too, to calm down with. That they trust. That's THEIRS. Their little Pack. Because Packs can and do have layers!

But why they sociology lesson, you may wonder? Where is the Fucking(tm)?

A good and sexy question! Remember when I said "every HEALTHY Alpha"? Name a single God damn timeline Bruce Wayne has EVER been emotional healthy and well adjusted. The only Beta he has near him is Alfred. His PARENTS Beta.

That's basicly his DAD.

Dick is an Omega. Jason was an Omega. Both of them were crammed in a house with him, with NO buffers and it predictably exploded. Jason DIED and Bruce became unhinged. Is ALFRED supposed to handle that? He's OLD. He can't handle that sort of emotional upheaval!

But Tim can.

Tim is a Beta. He knows their secret. And he refuses to watch Batman spiral any longer. He forces his way in. We know the story. Dick comes back to find a teeny, tiny little Beta. Younger then Jason had been. Loses His Shit.

What are you planning?! This BETTER not be what I think it is! So forth and so on. Accusations thrown. Teeth bared. Omegas PROTECT pups and Betas.

But Tim is ready. Is a machavelian little shit. FLINGS himself at Dick even as he gets in Bruce's face, ready for bloodshed. And? 🥺🥺🥺 He's never had a Big Bwother befoooore! OR been hugged by an Omega! Is it true they give the BEST hugs?

K.O.! Straight to the instincts! Tim is cuddled like a teddybear. It's awful. But he does it for the pack.

When Bruce's Rutt hits? The stubborn bastard wants to GO OUT and FIGHT. Like it's not a recipe for Probably Murdering Somebody. Hmmmph! Oh. What's this? Cough cough. Oh noooo. I appear to be So VERY sick and DEFENSELESS. If only there was a-

He is trapped in a sweaty, shaking, vice grip for hours. As Bruce cuddles him close in the panic room, riding out his rutt. Tim politely pretends to be asleep as Bruce desperately fists himself, face pressed to his hair, scenting him like he'll DIE if Tim does smell every inch like pack.

He doesn't really TOUCH him, but the squirming and lose of control would shut Bruce down completely. So obviously, Tim never noticed.

You know... until he DOES. Hormones hitting like a quite brick. And for his poor A and O classmates? A tactical strike. Good God, they become Messy. And INTERESTED.

So do his teammates.

And Dick? Is NOT having it. Is suddenly EVERYWHERE. Breaking up flirting attempts. Dropping in on hangouts. Picking him up from school. Teeth bared in what only fools would call a smile. He smells... really nice.

And does NOT take Tim back to the Manor. He has a safe house near by. Why?

His heat is about to hit.

And really, there's no WAY Dick trusts those sloppy, messy, greedy little shits to take care off HIS Timmy. Especially not for his first time. Now strip and get in the nest, Tim. :)

And Dick is insatiable. All hot mouth and gentle, stretching fingers. That gives way to more and more. Until Tim is shaking and gushing wet, spots he didn't know EXSISTED being pounded by fingers, as a hot mouth torments his poor clit. An arm like steel, wrapped around him, keeping him from writhing and scrambling away.

His hands desperately twisted in long dark hair as he babbles. Stop? More? He doesn't KNOW! It's so MUCH! A greedy wet mouth kissing up his body. Are they done? Rumbling, soothing noises in his ear. He's all twitchy and sensitive. Done right?

Then Dick pushes IN to him. And it's good but he also feels like he's gonna DIE. How do older Betas DO this?! He doesn't even have a KNOT and it feels like Tim's gonna split in two! But it gets better and better, Dick rocking and kissing, all sorts of nice little touches.

And then Dicks fucking him. Pinning him down to his nest, everything smelling like him, as he rocks and rams DEEP. Body pressed so close Tim can't move. Panting against Tim's neck.

That constant "is he gonna bit me? Is he gonna bite me?" Making everything tingle. Making his skin sensitive and him hyperaware of his body. Of every slide of the cock inside him, the tight grip on his hips, draging him back to meet those desperate thrusts, the hot tounge licking and LICKING.

Teeth. Pressure. Breaking skin.

Cumming so hard he passes out for a bit. Waking up to a full hole, wet and squelching, and the stuttering thrusts of the Omega on top of him as he cums inside him AGAIN. Pumping another load as deep as he can.

By the time the stumble back to the Manor? Bruce is furious. It's been DAYS.

But they dynamic has changed. When Bruce's next Rutt hits? Tim doesn't have to think up some kind of excuse. Bruce, hesitantly, tracks him down. Offers him every sort of out that he doesn't take.

Teaches him how to take an ALPHA.

The knot won't fit. Yet. At least not in front. But he gets stretched and stretched, impaled so DEEP. Bent over a pillow as they move like animals. Bruce fills him with his fingers too. Everything is so FULL. All he can do is drool.

Then it gets BIGGER and he wants to cry. But he's so, so good for Bruce. His little clit rubbed and rubbed to help him adjust. Breathes through it just like he's told. And... and OH.

It's pumping him so gooey and FULL. Gushing and gushing. Bruce's fingers working him deep, making him spasm and milk even MORE into himself.

He loses track of how many times Bruce fills him up and drains him out. When no more will FIT.

And of course! Jason. Told he was replaced by some little alpha shit. Because Tim's parents lied and Talia never bothered to correct that for him. Imagine his confusion.

So he stalks him. Is he pretending? Nope! Catches Dickie Bird fucking the brains out of his little Beta Bird. So GLAD to see their priorities are straight! Got themselves a jailbait Beta and the Joker's still breathing! Fuck those guys!

.......he's gonna steal their "Robin".

So he does the big reveal. Red Hood is Jason Todd. But? He does it a Drake Manor. Tim is thrilled. Little concerned about the murdering thing, but Meh. Tim's flexible. And Jason? Oh he is gonna rock jailbird's WORLD.

He bend him in HALF. Full on mating press. They're still in full costume. And God if he doesn't want to just? Completely drain his balls into that tight hole. It's been MONTHS since he's felt so clear headed and at peace. Nothing but endorphins and warmth. Cute little whimpers and gasps from beneath him.

Gonna fuck him a sloppy ruin then buy him some cheap pizza.

No. No he's gonna buy him some GOOD pizza. Then take him back to the safe house and fuck him AGAIN. No more of this Robin shit. Keep him like a fucked up pet. Take care of him, clean up crime Ally, get revenge on batman. Jason likes that plan.

Unfortunately, Bruce is a paranoid man. And TOTALLY bugged Tim's room. He checks on him.

Has a calm and level headed reaction to seeing a Crime Lord FUCKING HIS BOY.

Predictable Alpha and Omega nonsense follow. But that is highly dramatic Not Fucking. We move on.

You may ask! What of Damian? Alpha. Obviously. He clearly bites, it should not be a suprise. But the Leauge is archaic. Betas are minions. Drones. Why is Drake even HERE? It is BENEATH an Alphas dignity to lay with... THEM.

Tim? Will absolutely fight a pup. Fuck this guy. For once, DICK has to play the buffering force. He's god awful at it.

Damian tries to kill Tim.

Bruce gets lost in Time.

Damian tries to become THE Alpha and banish Tim from the pack.

Dick obviously won't let that absurdity stand, as HE is now the head of the Pack, but gives Robin to Damian and doesn't listen to Tim. Granted, Tim isn't explaining himself well and openly mourning, but still. Dick is under pressure. NEEDS his favorite Beta.

Not out fighting, not doing dangerous Heroic things. Just... just there. Home. Anchoring him and giving someone to take care off. And with Tim so CLEARLY losing his shit? He CLEARLY needs EXTRA and IMMEDIATE Omega Care. It's perfect.

Except it's not.

It goes to shit and Tim disappears. Shows up again, down one spleen and up one Obsessed Immortal. They manage to get Bruce back. But everyone is hurt and recovering.

Damian has gotten better. But he still does not UNDERSTAND. He's told to watch and learn. That it will help. So he follow Dick. To an exhausted Tim's room. Who's bruised, grumpy, and in no mood.

Dick offer to rub on bruise cream.

Tim allows it. Eyes Damian with distrust.

One arm at a time. One leg at a time. Gentle and soothing. Rubbing and rubbing and RUBBING. Across his poor abused stomach. His chest. Tim melts. Dick gently pulling off his clothes. Getting him comfy. Utterly boneless.

Damian watches.

Watches as Dick leans forward. Hands skimming as they trail up and up. Ever so gently spreading. There we go~

Watches as Drake's toes curl. As he jolts in suprise at that first touch, only to melt and spread his legs wider. Shiver, gasp, whine softly. Rocking ever so slightly. Is what Richard doing REALLY so good?

He quietly gets closer. Richard's fingers are skillful. Sliding and rubbing as his tounge works. It overwhelms Dra... Timothy. But why? Why do this?

Then Richard slides up and IN and? Oh. OH.

Even like this, Timothy does not smell overwhelming. It's pleasant. The sounds he makes... The way his body just? Just TAKES it. Submits to an Omega's cock like it is the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it is?

He... he wants...

Timothy has noticed him. Tensed. His past actions have left him unwelcome here. But then Dick is taking his hand, guiding it too the pink and wet between Timothy's legs. A little nub. He was teasing this. Damian can too.

There is an immediate reaction. Damian watches, fascinated, as he helps drive Timothy to incoherence. Shaking, begging, punched out little cries. It takes almost no time at all to figure out how best to rub and pinch, flick and twist.

Richard cums. Damians appalled. Timothy hasn't even-! How can you be so SELFISH?! But before he can work himself into a proper rant, Richard slides out and drags him over, into his lap.

Between him and Timothy.

He is hyper-aware of his hardness. But before he can bluster or make excuses, his pants are opened and Richard is lining him up. Pushing both of them forward. He sinks in to the most magnificent heat he's ever experienced. Slick and wet. "Sloppy seconds" as he's heard them call it. Squelching and thick with Richard's seed.

A powerful arm goes around him. Hips rock rock his. He tries not to drool as the sensations overwhelm him. He's used to fuck Timothy again. Dicks hips snapping forward again and again. As though fucking both of them. He knots for the first time in his LIFE inside that magnificent body.

Clinging to the Beta beneath him and whining as Richard ground his impressive length against his back. They're rolled over. Gently. Ever so gently. Timothy jolting and gasping above him before once again, his body it being rocked by thrusts. Each one, tugging teasingly on Damians knot. Milking him.

Omegas are cruel and relentless, he decides. Gasping for air as he knots again. The first hadn't even gone DOWN fully yet. Richard TRICKED him. He should have taken Timothy and run while they had the chance. But it's too late now.

Richard wants them to "get along". And is taking the chance his Heat provides to arrange it.

And? Well, Tim make a MAGNIFICENT Buffer for the Batfam. 10 out of 10 Beta. Very soothing. Best Heat/Rutt buddy.

This has been, my fic ramble! Thoughts?

-🐼

dick helping and guiding damian with fucking tim 👀👀👀👀!! making sure tim feels good and that damian learns how nice it is to fuck their beta and enjoy him the way they all do 👀👀👀

[pickledpascal]

There's A She-Wolf in the Closet

Chapter Fifteen: We Belong

Summary: Another day, another murder with a guitar. This time they left a note, what could go wrong?

Warnings: Light blood, gore, manipulation tactics, light angst.

Word Count: 1.6k

TASWITC Masterlist

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People die every day in London. Sherlock knows this. But it’s a rare occurrence when a death affects him, or someone he loves, directly. Even rarer, it’s not the death at all. It’s the killer. The killer is trying to communicate with her. Get her attention. Make her scared. 

As soon as Sherlock walked into the scene–a nice two-story house, right at the suburbs of London–he could tell something was even more wrong than usual. People looked at him weirdly, more than they already did before. It was a mix of pity and fear. Fear for him. But some lonesome murderer wouldn’t be able to kill him, even if they tried their hardest. The fear was misplaced. 

Or so he thought. 

“Give it to me.” Sherlock suddenly blurted to Greg who looked at him, confused in return. He let out a small breath, “The letter! Quite obvious to me that the murderer left something this time. On purpose.” He rolled his eyes, a sarcastic and annoyed look in them.

Greg let out a breath and nodded, “Not wrong but, um…. We’d rather you not go mad. The letter isn’t for you.” He explained, trying to be as careful as possible. Lestrade knew the kind of damage Sherlock could do if he knew someone he loved was in danger. He's gone to hell and back just for John.

Imagine someone that–somehow–mattered more. Sherlock would rearrange the universe. And it seemed someone already knew he would.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at Greg before holding his hand out. The detective inspector sighed and nodded, grabbing it from one of the evidence bags to give to Sherlock. 

The detective was stubborn and so eager for his heart to break that he didn't like when people tried to protect him. Sure, Mycroft was an overprotective and overbearing brother but unfortunately that worry was warranted. Hell, their younger sister was trying to kill them a year or so ago.

As soon as Sherlock started to examine the envelope, the name on the back stuck out at him and the smallest–but noticeable–sliver of fear crossed his eyes. Written in the most impeccable cursive was Jayden Wayne. 

Jayden Wayne. 

Sherlock's eyes focused on the writing, staring a hole into the center of it. It worried John. The detective just got someone he could be vulnerable with, lay every card out on the table. Willingly. And now that person could be in danger. Sherlock's eyes narrowed for a moment before he roughly opened the envelope.  

Dear Jayden Wayne–originally Gastrell if I recall,

It's funny how life has brought you to me. Someone who made it their mission to escape from my grasp, yet here you are yet again. So close to your goal, but not enough. Destiny has so many other plans for you. All of which include me! How wonderful is that? Come home with me willingly or else I'll be forced to do things I'd rather not. Your family misses you. The you with your pretty natural, long, black hair, and a rounder face marked a pretty purple by my hands. Being different is so hard. Isn't it? You belong with me, darling. We compliment each other, don't you think? I'd do anything for you while you'd rather watch the light leave my eyes. Perfect for each other!

Lovingly, your husband

P.S. Sherlock Holmes, being the nosy little shit you are, I know you're reading and I'm warning you to back away from Jayden Gastrell or she won't be the only one getting hurt.

Anger. He's felt it many, many times before. But this was different. It was a white-hot flame that wouldn't end by throwing a simple bucket of water at it. Someone he loved was caught in the crosshair of some murderous, misogynistic idiot. And this love wasn't a simple love of a friend, like John. No, this love was deeper, closer to Sherlock's heart. Something that might kill him.

Or keep him alive.

People always say they would die for someone or even kill for them. But Sherlock knows all anyone wants is for their partner to be alive and live a life with them. A relationship that will last. He's not sure if he could give anyone that, but he wanted to try.

Sherlock shook his head, letting out a frustrated huff. He quickly put the letter back in the envelope. "I…. Need to leave." He said simply, striding out of the house while John watched with an expression of concern written all over his face. 

The doctor quickly followed, letting out a breath when he realized Sherlock already hailed a taxi and left. He either went to see Jayden and showed her the letter or holed up in 221b and left Jayden blissfully unaware of the threats on her life. Perhaps his reasoning for that would be that she's already had to deal with shitty situations and he didn't want to add to it. But John knew better. Sherlock didn't want to be the bearer of bad news. The one to tell her that something horrible was going to happen.

But maybe John was wrong.

—---------

A knock on Jayden's door pulled her from her trance. She was staring at the finalized costume, a proud smile on her face. It was finally comfortable around her crotch and looked beautiful. A white tactical suit with armor plating around the shoulders that blended in with the regular cloth, gauntlets made of silver, and long boots–without a heel, thank god–that had plated armor on it too. To pull it together, a simple, swirling design on the sides of the waist to look like she was cinched. 

The young woman opened the door to her flat and cocked her at Sherlock. Something was wrong, she could see it in his eyes. The detective opened his mouth to say something but closed it when Jayden widened the door for him to come in.

She could tell they needed to sit down for this.

Sherlock roughly undid the scarf around his neck and set his gloves inside his coat pockets as he sat down. Jayden just watched, observing him with neutral eyes. He was like a pot of boiling water that was about to explode. She couldn't imagine whatever made him seethe like this.

"Talk." But she wanted to know. Jayden sat next to Sherlock, eyes taking in the hardened features more closely. His jaw was clenched, lips pursed into a thin line, his nose was scrunched up into a slight snarl while his eyebrows furrowed.

But then he looked at Jayden and his features softened. Slightly. But she could tell. Sherlock let out a huff, eyes flicking from Jayden's to some random groove in the wood floors. He debated on whether or not he should admit what he read earlier. But Jayden was sure to hold it against him if he didn't. She would hold a grudge and Sherlock knew he wouldn't be able to survive it. 

"I think your ex is going to kill you. Or, at least, kill to make you get back with him." He said, then continued to explain what he saw earlier that day, before he arrived at her flat.

As he described the crime scene and recited what was in the letter, Jayden's eyes were wide with fear and her heart sunk deep in her chest. James. He was toying with her. She knew it. He was trying to make her feel guilty. Make her feel like this was her fault. 

And it was working.

James was using something she loved against her. Literally killing someone with an object that Jayden loved. That had to be some sort of metaphor. 

When Sherlock was done, Jayden looked off to the side. Her worst nightmare was coming true. How did she not see this coming? James was in London. With her. Her eyes were glazed over, not noticing the concern written all over Sherlock's face. Her emotions were all over the place that she couldn't really function properly. She wouldn't be able to for a while. Unless she found a distraction. Hopefully her job could do that for her. Distract her enough to just barely forget about this mess, threats on her life. Funny. She thought it couldn't get worse than the half-dead state James would leave her in years earlier. But now other people were dead just because a man didn't get what he wanted. 

And what he wanted was her. The obedient, little girl that died a long time ago.

"Jay." Sherlock said softly, grabbing her attention. Barely. "Is there anything I can do?" He knew the answer already. No. Someone wants to murder me for leaving them. 

Jayden looked over at Sherlock, taking a deep breath before she wrapped her arms around him. She just needed someone with her. To feel with her. "Just stay here…. For a little while." She said softly, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Somehow, Jayden still found a way to surprise Sherlock. "Okay…." He let out a shuttered breath, gently wrapping his own arms around her body. "I got you, okay? I'll protect you." He slowly rubbed her back, still not used to physical affection or anything close to it. 

Jayden wasn't crying but she didn't have any more tears left to cry. She wanted to be done being afraid and running from her past. She could be strong and she was, but this was so much different. Her life was quite literally on the line. More than usual.

"Is that a promise?" Jayden asked softly, looking up at Sherlock with her eyebrows furrowed.

"It's a vow." Sherlock whispered back with a gentle smile.

---------

Taglist (Open)

@thewinterpoet2

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - XI

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,700+

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse

Previously on…

How did she let this happen?

Y/N had tried to push her short-lived romance with Bruce Wayne out of her mind for two years. And the moment she sees him again, for the first time since, it all went to hell. 

Why did she let him have her so easily? 

Why was he so hard to fight? 

His presence was difficult to ignore. And when he acted on their mutual feelings, Y/N knew she’d do just about anything for him.

But could two stubborn, emotionally distant, and nearly impossible people make it work?

But then Dick…Dick Grayson. 

Whenever Y/N thought of him, a warmth spread through her chest. He wasn’t scared of her. Instead of trying to break down her walls, he patiently waited for her to open a side door for him. He was patient and kind. Though he adopted Bruce’s flirtatious and charming ways, it was backed by substance in a way Bruce never bothered to follow up with.

Both men loved her differently.

But that didn’t mean one loved her more than the other either. 

–––––––––––

When Y/N reached the bottom of the cave, she found Dick training.

He was shirtless with a pair of shorts on, lifting himself up on the still rings.

She allowed herself to watch him for a moment. 

It was unreal the amount of strength he held to be able to move the way he was. He had clearly been modest when she asked if he could go to the olympics. 

Dick’s skin was shining, drenched in sweat.

How long had he been working out?

What she didn’t know was that Dick had been at it for hours, trying to work out his frustrations by making himself physically exhausted.

Finally Dick landed by doing an aerial dismount that consisted of so many twists and flips that Y/N just blinked in amazement. 

“Come to get your equipment?” Dick asked without looking at her. 

He was out of breath and clearly tired as he rubbed his face with a towel.

“Yeah,” she answered. “Jason’s bringing one of his cars to help me pack it up.”

She didn’t want to inconvenience anyone else in the family further. But she couldn’t exactly hire a TaskRabbit to help her pack up thousands of dollars worth of hacking equipment and ask them to drop it off at one of her many safe houses.

Plus, Jason owed her after the scene he cased at that infamous family dinner, and she made sure to tell him so.

Dick scoffed a bit. “So, you and Jason hang out now?”

Y/N smirked. “We started a club. We’re calling it The Club for the Parentally Abused and Recently Resurrected.”

Dick could help but let a smile slip.

“But I also came to talk to you.”

He walked past her now, and still hadn’t even looked at her since she arrived.

“You don’t owe me any explanation, Y/N. I got the message loud and clear.”

Y/N took in a deep breath. This was going to be hard. But she had to do it.

“When I was five years old, I left my stuffed animal at the park. I wouldn’t stop crying on the drive home. My parents started screaming at me to be quiet. Eventually they gave up, pulled over, and kicked me out of the car. It was 5 miles back to the apartment and it was 30 degrees out. Luckily, I knew my way home."

The story made Dick’s eyes snap up and he finally looked at her. And when he did, his expression was filled with rage and sympathy – rage towards her parents, but sympathy for Y/N. She should’ve never had to deal with such abuse.

Y/N shrugged. “And that’s one of the better moments.”

Dick took a step towards her. “Y/N…”

Her eyes were glued to the ground as she continued. “To this day, I jump anytime someone drops something. I can’t watch sports because the sound of men yelling causes panic attacks.” 

Then she finally found the courage to meet his gaze. 

“When I meet men, in my eyes, they’re all my father until they prove otherwise. And the reason I’m always waiting for the floor to drop out from underneath me... is because it always has.”

Dick waited. 

Y/N knew he was silently telling her he understood.

A couple tears managed to slip down her face, but she quickly wiped them away.

“Bruce was the first person I ever shared my past with. And now…now you’re the second.”

Dick still didn’t know what to say to her.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, Dick. That was never ever my intention.”

Dick sighed, “I know.”

And he did. He did know.

Dick took in a deep breath, “I spent a big part of my life trying to stop myself from turning into him. I became terrified by the idea. I started disagreeing with his methods. He stopped looking like the perfect man to me. Eventually, I left Gotham because of it all.”

He shook his head in disappointment. “But I’m realizing those are the same things that make him the man that you love.”

His hand moved through his hair. “Now I’m starting to wonder…what if the only things you like about me is just everything that he made me be?”

Y/N couldn’t listen to any more of it. She couldn’t keep standing there and hear him tear himself down and compare himself to the man he had idolized for most of his life. Even if he saw Bruce as just human now, the man was still somewhat of a father figure to him.

“No,” she immediately stepped to Dick and clutched his face.

On instinct alone, he put his hands on top of hers, scared she’d stop touching him too quickly.

“Dick, listen to me. That’s not true. None of that’s true.”

“Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear,” he begged.

“I’m not. I promise I’m not.”

Y/N took in a shaky breath.

By telling Dick what he needed to hear, Y/N was also exposing herself. It was scary for her. Talking to Dick about their complicated relationship was like speaking a different language compared to the way she used to communicate with Bruce. And she could admit that communication was often no communication at all.

“The things I love about you have nothing to do with Bruce,” her words were unafraid and sincere.

Dick blinked at the word ‘love.’

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, Dick. And I know you’re sometimes ashamed of it, because you’ve been convinced that you shouldn’t do that. But it’s…it’s so… different.”

She laughed lightly at herself, “Different than what I’m used to. Different than what I’ve ever expected from men.”

“I always know what’s going on in that heart of yours,” she continued. “There’s no guessing with you. I never doubt your feelings. Because you don’t hide anything.”

Y/N figured out what she was really trying to get at.

“Because you’re not scared.” She paused. “You’re not scared to love me, even when you think you don’t have a chance.”

“Do I have a chance?” He whispered.

Y/N finally dropped her hands from his face and stepped away from him. “I can’t – Dick, I can’t get between you two.”

He chuckled darkly. “It’s a little late for that.”

Y/N hid her face in her hands in desperation. “Please, don’t say that to me. Please.”

“He’s in love with you, too.” Dick declared.

“Dick, stop!”

“No, I won’t.” He snapped back. “Bruce is in love with you, Y/N. And you can’t keep lying and convincing yourself that he’s not.”

“It’s not that simple!”

But she could tell he was growing frustrated with her.

“Then tell me why you love him,” Dick surprised her by asking. “I need to know. I need to know why, because that’s the only way I’m going to be able to let you go.”

Y/N’s lips trembled as her eyes filled with tears again. She shook her head, “Please don’t make me.”

But when she looked up, his gaze was pleading.

So Y/N closed her eyes, the pressure of it made more tears escape and slide down her cheeks. She took in a deep breath, desperate for it to calm her down enough to even speak.

“That first night me and him shared...I hadn’t slept that soundly in years. And it was because I felt...safe. He’s always made me feel safe, like nothing could ever happen to me.” She shook her head and her eyes glazed over as she remembered the past. “I know I asked for this life. I’m always on the edge of being in danger, and I always have to be on the move. But it just felt like...like I could finally breathe.”

She gave Dick a sad smile. “And it’s been the same since I got here. I was just too stubborn to admit it.”

Then she shook her head. “I’m so tired of being scared. And I’m so tired of convincing myself that I don’t deserve to be loved.”

“Y/N,” Dick whispered her name as if he was begging. He moved to her and clutched her face and bowed until their foreheads touched. “I can keep you safe, too. I promise. I always will.”

“I know. Because you’re the only reason I’m alive right now.”  

“I love you, Y/N.” He murmured as if it was his most treasured secret. 

But they had both known that for awhile. 

“And I know you love Bruce…but I think you love me, too.”

Y/N hesitated before she whispered, “I do love you.”

Dick didn’t even try to stop himself from kissing her.

He pulled her hips to his, refusing to allow any space between their bodies. Her lips were wet with tears, but he didn’t care. This kiss needed to tell her everything he felt. This was his final statement. If his words couldn’t convince her, then maybe he could make her feel it all.

Jason Todd’s timing was like the rapture. 

His car screeched to a stop on the platform below them.

Except Dick didn’t give a damn if his brother saw them. He barely let Y/N pull away, but still tried to brush her tears away with his thumb as it grazed her cheek.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jason yelled up with a cheeky grin.

Y/N still shifted out of Dick’s embrace.

To both the men’s surprise, she didn’t glare down at Jason.

“Come on. I’ll help you get all this into his truck,” Dick told her softly.

Their moment had ended.

And Dick couldn’t help but believe that he’d lost her.

———

Jason helped Y/N carry all her equipment in the storage unit she had directed him to.

The young man had the same strength as three professional movers and she was taking full advantage of it.

“Don’t you want all this crap with you?” Jason asked when he finally moved the final piece inside.

Y/N pulled down the garage door, slamming it closed, and activated multiple locks before facing him.

“Nope.”

Jason eyed her suspiciously. “Don’t tell me The Court traumatized you into retiring…”

“Of course not. But I am taking a break.”

He nodded, accepting the answer.

“Where to next?” He asked while nodding towards his truck.

“You don’t have to give me a ride. I think I want to walk.”

“Hell no. Bruce and Dick would kill me if I let you do that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and slowly opened her jacket to show that she had one of her guns hidden away.

“You taught me well.”

Jason sighed heavily, “You wanna be alone. I get it.”

“Thank you for your help, Jason.”

He just shrugged, “I owed you.”

Y/N nodded and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

“You know what you’re doing?” Jason asked.

“Not really,” she admitted.

To her surprise, Jason's face was sympathetic. “Look, I know I give you a lot of shit. And none of it’s my business.”

He scratched the back of his neck.

“They both love you. OK? And I know they both go about showing it in completely different ways. But that’s just how they are. We’re all a fuckin’ mess.”

“I know,” Y/N mumbled as she looked at the ground, shoulders slumped.

“But I know what it’s like to be beaten down by life. So I just want to make sure you remember that you deserve it.”

“Deserve what?” Y/N asked, confused.

“To be loved.” Then his eyes turned the most serious she’d ever seen, and he pointed to her sternly. “Don’t let what happened in the past make you think otherwise.”

Jason already hated how preachy he sounded, so he gave a final nod and walked to the driver’s side of the truck.  

“Jason!” She called out.

He paused before he got into the driver’s seat.

“The same goes for you.” She smiled. “Remember, we’re in a club now.”

He smirked before giving her a final salute, and driving away.

———

Walking back to her safe house was therapeutic for Y/N.

Yeah, there were worse places than Wayne Manor to be kept on house arrest. But Y/N also couldn’t remember the last time she went on a walk like this. It did wonders to clear her head.

Though she was still paranoid and made sure to remain aware of her surroundings. And she probably looked over her shoulder too frequently to appear natural. But after everything she’d been through, her life still didn’t feel safe.

So, imagine Y/N’s panic when she walked into her safe house and immediately knew someone had been there.

She immediately pulled out her gun and started to do a perimeter check.

However, her panic slowly subsided when she saw a note on the kitchen counter.

Next to the note was what appeared to be a tracking device. Not as sophisticated as anything Y/N could make. But it was still rather advanced.

She walked closer to read it and instantly recognized Bruce’s handwriting.

“We had a deal,” was all he’d written.

When Y/N turned on the tracker, she quickly noted that the coordinates it gave matched the location of Wayne Manor.

A sad smile spread across her lips at the blinking light.

This was a strange way of expressing affection and trust, but that was Bruce.

There had been a part of her that didn’t believe Bruce Wayne would ever allow someone to always know where he was. But then again, he always found a way to surprise her.

Y/N looked around at her apartment.

It was cold and unwelcoming. The purpose was to provide a safe location and remain isolated. It was never meant to become a home – none of her safe houses were. Without her equipment humming, it felt even quieter than usual – unsettling even.

One thing was sure to Y/N…she couldn’t live this way anymore.

–––––––––––

Dick was fixing up his motorcycle in the garage at the manor.

He was planning on driving it across the country and wanted to make sure it was in good ship before he put that kind of mileage on it.

His attention shifted away from it when his phone lit up and vibrated from a message.

To Dick’s surprise, he read Jason’s name.

“You should talk to her. I think she’s really going through it right now,” was all his younger brother texted.

Dick sighed in frustration and tossed his phone away a little too roughly.

He rubbed his face. 

He’d been suffering from a headache every day since he last saw Y/N. 

Maybe it was his punishment for submitting so easily.

Dick stood up from kneeling next to his motorcycle.

No, he wasn’t going to talk to Y/N.

But he was going to talk to Bruce.

While Dick had been distracting himself with his upcoming escape back to the Titans, Bruce drowned himself in new cases. He’d extended his patrolling hours so long that he barely had time to sleep and eat. Half the time, he didn’t even bring Damian along with him. 

Dick knew he would find Bruce in the cave, seeing as he hadn’t left it in days.

Bruce didn’t turn away from his research even though he heard Dick’s entrance.

But that didn’t slow Dick down as he marched to him.

“Are you really going to do this?” Dick shot.

He didn’t need to elaborate, they both knew what he was talking about.  

“We’re not having this discussion,” Bruce tried to shut it down without even looking at him.

“Nope. That’s not going to work anymore.” Dick reached out and pressed a button, turning all of the screens blank. “We’re talking about this whether you want to or not!” Dick snapped.

Bruce was clearly irritated. Not only did he finally acknowledge Dick and meet his gaze, but he also stood from the chair and sized him up.

Dick’s jaw clenched before he began. “I know you’d protect her with your life. But are you going to protect her from Bruce Wayne?”

The question was brutal, but necessary.

Dick wasn’t holding back any longer.

“Because we didn’t have any choice. We changed our expectations and adapted. But Y/N? She shouldn’t have to do that. So you’re either all in or you need to let go.”

The ‘we’ was Dick and his brothers, but Bruce didn’t need him to clarify.

Dick never had any intention of being cruel. But he had to be blunt with Bruce. And Dick wasn’t going to watch as he put Y/N through what he and his brothers had to in the past. 

She would bend and fold herself for Bruce, lowering her expectations and latching onto what little he gave her, putting it all on a pedestal and giving it more meaning than it deserved.

“If you promise to actually commit to someone for the first time in your life and put them before Batman, I’ll walk away. I’ll do it for you. And I’ll do it for her.” The fire in his eyes was blazing. “But I can’t sit back and watch as you treat her like shit. She deserves better than that. And you know it.”

There wasn’t a single lie in what Dick said. 

Over the years, Dick was always the most frustrated with Bruce’s lack of emotional competence. Jason was angry at Bruce for far more than just that. Tim didn’t seem to have many thoughts on it. And Damian didn’t see it as a problem, which was an entirely different issue.

But if it weren’t for Dick, Bruce would be far worse – even though that seemed rather impossible.

“Do you love her?” Bruce asked Dick.

He blinked at the question, taken off guard by how intimate it felt coming from Bruce.

“Yes,” Dick answered, leaving no room for doubt.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Dick glared at him.

But Dick still jumped right into it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Y/N is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life. She makes me laugh – even when I know her sarcasm and humor are hiding darkness. She’s selfless – more selfless than all of us. And she cares about everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. She dedicated her life to helping people and, until recently, she was fine doing it all by herself. ”

Bruce couldn’t help but smirk darkly at Dick’s list and crossed his arms, “You forgot to mention how beautiful she is.”

“Yeah. Well… anyone with eyes knows that,” Dick rumbled.

Bruce was quiet, clearly deep in thought.

What was going on in that head of his?

“She left Gotham,” Bruce finally stated.

Dick’s eyes widened. “Left?”

“Yesterday.”

“Yesterday? So...what? You don’t know where she is or you’re not going after her?” Dick snapped.

“I know where she is.”

Dick’s face dropped. “You’re not going after her,” he muttered in disbelief.

Bruce didn’t have to say anything to confirm Dick’s suspicions.

“You’re an asshole and a fool, Bruce.”

“I’m doing the best thing for her,” he countered.

“That’s what you think. But how will she feel?” Dick shook his head in disgust. “But you never ask yourself those questions, do you, Bruce? You never consider other people’s feelings.”

“I promised to always put Gotham first, Dick.”

“Oh, come on, Bruce!” Dick groaned. “You made that promise – what? – 20 years ago? Don’t try to tell me that things haven’t change.”

“You think she wants to stay in this mansion by herself, wondering if I’m going to come back alive?” Bruce finally fought back. “You think she deserves a man who will always put her second?”

“Then don’t, Bruce! Don’t put her second! She chose you! Don’t make her regret it!”

But Dick had enough and he also wanted the final word.

So with that, he stormed out of the cave, leaving Bruce alone again.

Dick was about to go to his room and finish packing up his things to leave when Alfred called his name.

“This arrived for you,” Alfred informed him politely as he offered him an envelope.

Dick’s heart beat faster as he grabbed the letter, somehow already knowing it was from Y/N.

He ripped it open without hesitation, not bothering to wait for the privacy of his room to read it.

Dick,

We both know I’m absolute shit at opening up. But I am hoping that maybe writing it all down will be easier. I figured it’s worth a try. 

I’m sorry for the way things happened. I hope you believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt the two of you.

It recently occurred to me that I haven’t experienced much of life.

I went from living in an abusive household, to living on the streets, to using all of my energy trying to bring down the corrupt. I’ve spent so much of my life either running or fighting that I realized I don’t actually know how to just simply…live.  

So...

By the time you get this, I will have left Gotham. I think it’s about time I stop running and start learning who I am when I stand still. 

I don’t expect you to forgive me for pushing and pulling you.

But I hope you believe me when I say I love you. I really do, Dick Grayson. 

And the truth is, you scared the shit out of me. But I also know you deserve someone more than just me. And the idea of you realizing that at any moment, only to leave me, was too heartbreaking to face.

I hope this isn’t goodbye forever. 

“When did this arrive?” Dick asked almost panicked.

“Just this morning, Master Dick.” Alfred answered.

“Thanks, Alfred.”

He took a few steps toward the stairs before Alfred called out, “Master Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“It feels rather important to emphasize that there was only one letter…”

Dick’s gaze flickered to where the cave entrance was, the place they both knew where Bruce was currently hiding. 

Then he looked back to Alfred, showing that he understood what he was trying to silently tell him.

Y/N didn’t write a letter to Bruce.

-------------------------------------

Part 12 – The End

I’m sorry to tell you that there is only one more part after this. 

So please please please let me know what you think. Write me a book report. Write me a novel. 

A/N: The scene between Bruce and Dick was inspired by two things:

This conversation from the comics. 

And this scene from Sabrina. Obviously this is a much more comical take, but I’ve seen this movie probably 100 times and it holds a similar meaning to this story. 

[thr-333]

Just Another Class Trip :)  Part 2

Marinette sacrifices Adrien and then steals his alter ego.

First<>Next

----------------

With the help of the staff Marinette is directed to the room she will be sharing with Chloe and Kagami. It was meant to be two to a room, but yada yada Lila yada yada medical condition yada yada tears= Lila gets her own room.

“Marinette,” Kagami spots her first, rising from the couch.

“Mari!” Chloe vaults over the couch and hug tackles her, Marinette barely moves an inch, “You should have heard all the shit Lila was saying on the way here, you’d think it be enough she got the class to leave you behind!”

“Perhaps it’s best if you do not,” Kagami pulls Chloe off her, “You didn’t answer your phone,”

“Flat,”

“Bags?”

“Stolen,”

“Lila?”

“Probably,”

“Well lucky for you housekeeping dropped this by earlier,” Chloe hands her a box, inside filled with essential items, tooth brush, hair brush, even a pair of pyjamas, along with a note

‘Courtesy of the Waynes, for Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng’

“Must be a generic package,” She had shrugged off the bellhops earlier saying her bags were lost.

“Well since you don’t have to unpack, help me with this,” Chloe leads her over to their kitchen that might actually be bigger than her houses.

On the counter beauty products are lined up along with random ingredients.

“We’re making face masks!”

“Correction, Chloe is making face masks,” Kagami scolds, “I argued that sleep would be more effective,”

“And yet you didn’t go to sleep,” Chloe teases, mashing up avocado.

“Well not without you,” Kagami smirks, making Chloe blush, but it’s not like her to back down.

“Awe, you’d wait for me~” Chloe relishes in the blush dusting Kagami's cheeks.

Marinette dry heaves, wondering how long they were going to keep pretending to flirt like this, each too stubborn to back down. They have been doing this more and more recently, great that they were more comfortable around each other but…

“How about we go to bed,” Marinette disturbs their challenging stares.

“Not without Kagami,”

“I already used that one,”

“I never said we’d use the bed for sleeping~”

“Hey!” Her exclamation doesn't get them to drop their staring contest, “Do either of you know what room Adrien is in?”

“End of the hall,” They both answer, not looking at her.

“Great,” Marinette hastily grabs her bag and the box, she could get ready in Adrien's room, away from the weirdness.

She practically runs down the hall, ignoring her Kwami’s snickering.

“Mari!” Adrien throws the door open for her, “Did everything go ok, you didn’t answer your phone, you look upset,”

“Sorted everything out with security no problems, Phones dead, Bag stolen,” She plops down on the couch next to Nino, “Chlo and Kags are driving me crazy,”

“How long have you been back?” She looks down at her watch.

“Three minutes,”

“Are they doing that thing again?” Adrien, Kwami bless him hands her a mug of coffee.

“Yep,” She takes a sip from the mug, she retracts that blessing “Betrayal! This isn’t coffee!”

“It’s hot chocolate,” Adrien is in the kitchen fixing another mug, “You need to go to bed, and coffee will keep you up,”

No she needed to go on patrol, and a coffee is vital to her surviving it.

“What’s up with Chloe and Kagami?” Nino takes off his headphones.

“They started teasing each other by jokingly flirting but their both too stubborn to back down," Marinette sighs, downing half the mug of hot chocolate so she can get herself a damn coffee, "So they get uncomfortable then we get uncomfortable and its overall very uncomfortable,”

“I think it’s kind of funny,” Adrien sits down next to her, mug in hand.

“It would be if they both weren’t horrible at flirting,” She steals the mug away from him taking a sip.

That is not coffee, that is sugar disguised as a liquid

“That’s the funny part,” Adrien smiles as she hands back the mug,

“Touche Agreste, Touche,”

“If you wanted you could sleep in my room,” Nino offers, oh so innocently.

“Thank’s Nino, but I would rather Alya not kill me,”

“Nah dude, I was going to stay with Alya anyway Madame Bustier wont mind,” Yeah their teacher really should learn not to trust teenagers, "So you can have my room,”

“Nino you are a godsent,”

Nino cleans up his few thrown about items and bids them adieu. Marinette was glad they could still talk, maybe they were even still friends. When you have the devil in one ear and her loyal sidekick in the other it is actually kind of impressive they still have a friendly relationship.

“So how’s your day been?” Marinette gathers up the strength to start a conversation after making her own coffee, and her mouth was only very burnt from chugging a hot drink.

“Good, Chloe took us to a supermarket, I brought a bunch of american snacks!”

Indeed he had, Marinette watches in mild horror as he plops bags full of junk food in front of her.

“I didn’t realise we were feeding an army,” Adrien starts rooting through the bags, “If a super villain comes after you because you brought all their favourite snacks in Gotham I’m not protecting you,”

“I’d just share with them,” Adrien hums, chomping down on a chocolate bar.

“... Yeah that could work,” Dear Kwami I have to protect this sunshine child,  “Maybe,”

“Oi, don’t eat too much, I don't want to have to re tailor your outfit for the runway,” She teases, regretting it immediately as Adrien's shoulders sag.

“Sorry,”

“Adri I’m kidding,”  She places a hand on his shoulder smiling gently, “I already made the measurements a bit bigger so you’re good.

“Have I ever told you you’re the best?”

“Not enough you haven't,” Marinette huffs in mock offence, “Now eat,”

She shoves the chocolate bag in his face, getting it all over his cheek. They both start laughing as Adrien tries to get his revenge. They end up falling off the couch, Marinette on top of him. Adrien is blushing a bright red, Marinette just grins and shoves the chocolate in his face before getting up.

She could almost laugh at how her younger self would react to that. It wasn't as if she didn’t like Adrien, well maybe not in that way anymore, she honestly hadn't put that much thought into it lately. Things just got busy she supposed, Akumas got harder, then she became the guardian, she started her fashion career. Actually her fashion career might be at fault.

Gabriel had started lending Adrien to model for her more and more. The man stepping further and further back from the fashion world, or the world in general, over the years for whatever the reason. At first she had been a blushing mess around Adrien, not directing him properly and making her work suffer for it. Overtime she had learnt how to handle it, getting less flustered every time they worked together. Now that she thought about it, when she had revealed her identity as MDC Adrien didn’t seem surprised; maybe her work attitude had bled into her regular life well before then.

Marinette is washing the chocolate off when a knock sounds at the door. Neither feel like walking to it so shout out ‘come in’. That turned out to be a mistake as Lila bursts into the room. How were they supposed to know Lila would actually knock?!

“Marinette you slut!” Lila all but screeches.

“Lila, you don’t have an audience and neither of us believe you,” Marinette comes out of the bathroom, already bored of the conversation she really needed to go, Lila and Marinette both.

“Well just wait, tomorrow the whole class is going to know what you did,” Lila gets up in her face, so close she can smell her perfume.

No not Lila's perfume her perfume.

“Right, sorry to say but there’s worse rumours than sleeping with a supermodel,” Marinette tries to edge her way around Lila, good excuse as any to dip out for patrol.

“Not if I say you forced him,” Lila looks way to self satisfied for what she is implying

I think the fuck not

“Nah,” Adrien shrugs, getting Lila’s ire turned on him, a noble sacrifice indeed.

“Nah?” Lila looks livid, “What do you mean Nah !”

“I’d just say I wanted to,” Adrien stays calm with Lila's face inches from him, Marinette gives him the thumbs up as she edges closer to the door, Adrien nods back.

She loved this version of the high road

“After all Marinette's super pretty and talented,” Adrien gushes, Marinette grins at the face Lila must be making, “Honestly your lie is so unbelievable, why would she ever go for someone like me?”

Marinette closes the door on Lila’s cursing response, saying a quick word of praise for Adrien's bravery and sacrifice.

At least he gets to see Lila’s reaction when she realises I’m gone

Marinette uses a back door of the hotel to get to the street, not wanting the staff to stop her and warn about the dangers. She skips along looking for a good place to change. The city was actually kind of beautiful at night, she feels drawn to it in a strange way.

“Marinette!” Tikki looks out from her scarf, “You forgot the Miracle box,”

“Shoot!” She looks back to the hotel, a few blocks away from it by now, “It’ll be fine Tikki I leave it at home all the time,”

“You’re not at home right now,” Tikki looks worried, those are her friends after all, “It’s a guardians duty-”

Marinette tries not to groan, she really does.

“I know Tikki, I know,” She looks over the buildings surrounding her, feeling a deep itch to see Gotham from the rooftops “But can’t I just be myself for once, not the guardian?”

“You are the guardian,” Tikki insists, before sighing, “Which means you can make your own decisions regarding the miracle box,”

“Thank you Tikki,” She hugs the little Kwami, “I promise to be back super quick, I just have to stop one bad guy, an eye witness account of Starling so I don’t just appear randomly, I won’t even need to go on patrol again after this,”

“Alright Marinette, I trust you,” Tikki nuzzles her cheek, easing Marinette's conscience.

With that she ducks out of sight to get changed. Her costume is pretty simple really. All she had to do was pull her infinity scarf up, discrete holes allowing her to see. She turns her skirt inside out to a black side, with white, purple, and blue detailing to stick to her Starling namesake. The skirt pulls over her shoulders, a zip down the middle allowing her more movement, and a zip to form a secret hood.

Ready to go she climbs up to the roof, super strength and speed making roof hopping easier. She supposed if someone looked too hard they would be able to piece together pieces of her costume but her ‘cape’ hides the detailing of her shirt. Besides if she has her way she won’t have to use this identity ever again, but she rarely has her way.

About ten minutes into her search through Gotham she spots a broken window. Not notable except that the lights are on. She lowers herself onto the fire escape and sure enough someone is being held at gunpoint.

“Excuse me,” Both people jump, spinning to look at Starling casual sitting on the broken glass on the window sill, “You seem to have a very rude house guest on your hands,”

“Who the hell are you!?” The burglar turns their gun on her.

“Just a stray passing through,” She gives a bright smile, and a very Chat like bow, “Starling at your service… milady,”

If I’m going Chat I might as go full Chat Noir, hope he doesn't file a lawsuit against me

“Ummm,” The woman looks very confused, but not as confused as the burglar.

“Would you like me to remove him from your home?”

“Ah… yes?”

With another smile Starling makes her move. In the split second it takes the burglar to register her offer she's standing in front of him. The gun moves a second too late as she ceases his arm, her strength being as good as handcuffs. She hits a pressure point her Aunt taught her to make him drop the gun, kicking it away. Pinning the man's arm behind his back she spins him around, zip tying his hands.

“What the fuck!!”

“That’s no kind of language,” Starling reprimands, pushing him towards the window, “Now apologise,”

“What?! No way fuck you!” Starling grins, hooking a bungee cord to his shirt.

“Alright then, bye!” She pushes him out the window.

His screaming doesn't stop even when she watches as he bounces back up, dangling out the window. She grins.

Ladybug would never get away with that

Tying the other end of the cord to a post, she double checks to make sure everything is secure before turning back to the victim.

“So sorry about the rude intrusion milady,” She bows again, in jest, “Have you contacted the police?”

“Yeah… what are you?”

“A Starling bird,” Starling spins, showing off her cape, the patterning placed to resemble wings, “I though the name would be a dead give away,”

“Yeah, but what are you? A Bat? Vigilante?”

“Vigilante yes, Bat not so much,” Starling can see as she looks more cautious after that, “Just happened to be passing through Gotham when I saw you in need of assistance,”

“Right... ok then...” She sits down, letting herself slump over the couch, “Ugh, this has been a terrible day,”

“How so?” Starling eyes up the kitchen, “Besides from mister bungee jump out there,”

“I was almost out of work this afternoon when a new rumour about the Wayne's blew up,” Starling nods along, turning the oven on and picking out ingredients.

“I work in the PR department at Wayne tower, do you have any idea how hard that is?!” Starling shakes her head finding a bowl but no measuring cups, she could just estimate.

“They have new bruises everyday,” Starling does look up to that, very concerned, “Don’t worry it’s not abuse or anything, they really are just dumbasses,”

Starling snickers a little bit at that, pouring in ingredients like second nature.

“I once asked mister Drake why he had a giant bruise on his forehead, he told me he passed out at his desk and just slammed into it!” Starling does laugh at that one, “Like?! How am I supposed to tell people that without sullying the Wayne name?”

“I think its funny,” She did clearly not agree, Starling changes the subject as she starts mixing “What was the problem today?”

“Nothin much really someone took pictures of mister Drake talking and giving a ride to some girl with black hair and blue eyes, and now everyone thinks she’s a Wayne,”

“That’s all it takes?” She starts placing the cookie dough on the baking tray, “Maybe I should apply?”

“Nah, you’d sooner be Batman's kid than Bruce Wayne's,” She cracks the first smile Starling has seen so far, “He’s got the same amount of kids, if not more,”

“Maybe they should share custody?” Starling puts the cookies in the oven, “Double the number each,”

“Yeah, how about no?” She smiles more, which is good, “I can’t imagine having to explain away the bruises the Bat kids get,”

Starling smiles, the sound of sirens now drawing close.

“I guess that's my cue to leave Milady,” Starling jumps up onto the window sill, the burglar still shouting below, “Take the cookies out in fifteen minutes,”

“Hey,” Starling looks back, “Thank you,”

“No problem,” Starling sends a dazzling smile, “Good night, Milady,”

--------------

Taglist (guess I’m doing these now, please let me know if theres any issues):

@smolplantmum @flufflepuffle296 @dawnwave16  @caffeinetheory   @g-arya   @Maribat-2k20   @ladybug-182    @Actual-disaster-human    @fusser90   @messrs-weasley   @soap-lady  @paintedhope7   @zeneralla    @mochegato     @random-nerd-3 @clumsy-owl-4178  @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen   @too0bsessedformyowngood @certifiedbidisaster  @Purplegeekypanda

[morgansunflower]

Hi, so I have a request, its totally fine if you don't write it, but I would love to see Damian Wayne and Rachal Roth aka Raven have a newborn baby girl. They bring her to meet Titus and the instantly hit it off becoming bestfriends.

Arthur's notes: thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this! I really enjoyed writing it! Here's your request hope you enjoy it!

Gif is not mine

Damian's P. O. V

After my family met my daughter Martha we return to our home. I sit in the driver's seat, driving while in the back my wife sits with our daughter. Martha sleeping in her car seat. I glance to the rear view mirror my wife smiling to her. I still admire her for her remarkable strength. I deeply wished to take Rachel's pain away as she was in labor. Then when I heard my daughter's first crys into the world and I held my daughter for the first time in my life. I never felt so.. Happy. I feel genuine happiness and wholeness. She's my daughter. My little girl. Grayson was in tears as held her 'aw man she's so going to be spoiled! I'll be her favorite uncle. Aww Little D she's perfect absolutely perfect!'. My father's eyes were shaking and smile wide, when I told him of her name. Alfred smiled as his tears fell 'she is beautiful'. In the beginning I struggled to accept that I was loved by my family. Though in time I realized my actions proved unmoved by their love. That no matter how much I felt that I was a monster, I was loved. It was because of them I was able to accept Rachel's love. We'd been married for a year when she told those two words that made my life worthwhile. I was scared though my fear subsided with her reassurance. I would not change anything in my life.

"I wonder how Titus will act around D/N" Rachel chuckled liking recalling how protective he was of her, during her pregnancy

"I presume protective, which will allow you to rest" I relieved, she needs to rest

She sighs "you're not going to still treat me like I'm some delicate artifact, right?"

"I shall treat you as my wife and I intend on making my wife rest" I answered bluntly

"well then I'll just have to deal with your overbearing affection" she sarcastically sighed

"you love my 'overbearing affection'" I bluntly said

She softly smirks leaning back in the seat. I take a relaxing breath grateful that both my daughter and wife are truly ok. I park in our driveway. I see Titus looking out the window to us. I hear him bark. I open the car door and shut it. I open the back car door and see Rachel unlocking the car seat. She held the hospital bags as well. She's so stubborn. One of the many reasons I love her. I take the car seat from her where Martha sleeps and the bags in one swift though careful move. Rachel, raises her eyebrows at me tilting her head. I smirk back. I win. She opens her car door steps out and shuts it. I shut the car door. We step to the entrance of the house. I unlock the door and step in the house with my wife. She shuts the door behind us. I see Titus staring intently at our daughter. He began to sniff my free hand

"he's certainly curious" Rachel chuckled

"it's alright Titus, this is Martha" I assured my companion

Titus tilted his head to Martha, he first smells her car seat. He licks Rachel's hand.

"hello Titus we've missed you" Rachel smiled

He softly barked. He returned his attention to Martha. He sniffs by her face. She stirs in her sleep Titus attentively moved back. I pet his head

"it's alright Titus she's OK"

I carry the car seat to the nursery Titus and Rachel right behind me. Martha's nursery was painted light pinks, with soft purples. Toy's, a changing table, and a rocking chair. I lay the car seat in the crib and unbuckle it. She yawns and opens her violet-blue eyes. Just like her radiant mother. Titus puts his front paws on the railing still. He looks at Martha as if he was intending to study everything about her. Rachel steps on her toes and kisses my cheek. I hold my wife's hand

"let us go rest my love I trust Titus to keep her safe"

One week later early in the day. After slumber I step out of my bedroom. I step to the living room. Yet again I did not see Titus in his bed that was placed in the living room. Where could he be? Perhaps in the nursery again. I then hear Martha's crys followed by Titus barking to get Rachel's or my attention. I step into the nursery unbelieving what my eyes see. My daughter floating with a glowing light blue luminescence around her. She floats above her crib crying. It appears she's inherited her mother's powers as well. I take my crying daughter into my arms. Titus whining in worry. I gently pet him. I sit in the rocking chair in hopes of calming her down. I gently rock her as I hummed a melody. Titus rests by my feet. Martha's crys subside as she falls back to sleep.

Rachel's P. O. V

Eight months around 8 o'clock. I clean the toys in the living room. I hear my daughter laughing in her room. I step into the room. Martha on her rug with Titus. She is amused as her little arms were around Titus's muzzle. He slowly pulled her up as she stands. He carefully steps back allowing her to take her first steps. I couldn't stop smiling. As she lost her balance Titus lowered his head down and laid down. Martha sat on the ground and laid her head on his muzzle. I swiftly got my phone to take a, picture and sent it to Damian. I hear the timer for dinner. I teleport to the kitchen and open the oven. I use my power's to lift the dish onto to the stove top. As dinner laid ready I feel Damian move his arm across my lower abdomen and kiss my neck. I lean back into his chest, and hold his arms. Damian, hummed in a relaxing manner.

"I'll shall go get our daughter" he offered

"hmm thanks" I softly said "oh but wait" I added

"wh-" I kiss his lips and then part

He smirks "we will continue with that later"

My heart beating fast and melting like the day we first kissed. He always does that to me, no matter how long it's been. He steps out of the kitchen.

"beloved" I hear him whisper

I step to Damian he looks at me with a tender smile and then looks into the nursery. I look and nearly gasp from seeing the most adorable thing ever. My daughter sleeping, her little head on Titus as he slept as well. Neither aware of our presence.

[heyitsani]

A Dream Ripping at the Seams

@damianwayneweek fic Reverse Robins

Word Count: 5024

Rating: Teen and up

Warnings: Referenced past child abuse, canonical character death mentioned

Pairing: None

Summary: He had planned the whole thing out.  The moment he had seen the notes in Richard’s file on the computer, he had known he needed to get him out of there and away from Batman as soon as possible.  He refused to lose another brother.  

Saving Richard because he failed to save Todd was his only priority.

Notes: Guess what! IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! And it also happens to be Reverse Robins day for Damian Wayne week!  So to celebrate, I wrote this fic to give to all of you lovely people.  But especially those in the RR Discord who are always willing to encourage me to run with an idea that comes up last minute.

Also, this fic ends abruptly and that’s the point.  I might continue it, I might not.  But it’s supposed to feel sudden and full of questions.

To clear up confusion: Dick was 10 when adopted, Jason died when he was 15 and Dick 11, Dick is 12 (nearly 13) when the story starts, and 13 when it ends.

You can also read it on AO3 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian waited until he had the opportunity to get Richard away from the manor for the afternoon before he approached the subject with the boy.  He hadn’t been certain he would need to, at first, but the longer Richard was in the house with his father the more he saw the signs he had seen with Jason. And that meant he needed to act.

So he had asked Richard if he wanted Damian to pick him up from school one Friday in February so they could go for ice cream before dinner.  Richard had, unsurprisingly, agreed enthusiastically like Damian had known he would.  With the kid’s sweet tooth, he never turned down things like ice cream.  Especially since it wasn’t something the circus really got much of apparently.  Traveling in trailers didn’t allow for too many luxuries like freezers.

“Richard,” Damian started once they were seated on a bench in a local park, not far from a playground that the child was eyeing.  When the sapphire eyes turned on him, Damian took a deep breath and looked directly at him. “I know you have figured out what Father and the rest of us do in the night.”  Richard nodded, smiling as he licked his cone.  “Has Father approached you about training yet?”

The boy nodded again, and Damian pressed his lips together.  Twelve years old.  Twelve.  None of them had been that young outside of himself, but his situation was different. Being born into the League of Assassins made for a different upbringing.  “Is that bad?”

Shaking his head, Damian made sure his face was neutral before speaking again.  “No, but I have concerns.”  The boy blinked at him, but remained silent as though he was waiting for his brother to tell him what it was he was concerned about.  “You do not know of my childhood, but it was far from…pleasant. I was raised in a place called Nanda Parbat that trains people to be the kind of people Batman fights against.”

“But you were a kid?” Richard sounded confused; ice cream forgotten as he tried to sort through what Damian was saying.  And what he wasn’t saying.  “Why would you train a kid like that?”

“Because that was the way things were done there.”

“Then they were done wrong.”

Damian let out a soft laugh, corner of his mouth raising just slightly at the thought of this twelve-year-old child telling him that he had been raised wrong.  “Be that as it may, you are correct that I was a kid and that should not have been my childhood.”

Richard hummed and went back to his ice cream, looking out at a pair of dogs playing in the grass. Damian observed him as he watched the dogs, wondering what he was thinking.  He wasn’t sure how to ask the boy to do what exactly he was thinking, but he just hoped Richard would go along with it.  That he would agree to leave because this was not the life he should be living.

“Dami?”  Richard looked back to him, and Damian raised his eyebrows.  “You don’t want me to train with Batman.”  Damian shook his head.  “Ever?”

And wasn’t that the real question?

Damian wasn’t sure if he wanted Richard, the purest of them all, to be exposed to how ugly the world was the same way the rest of them had been.  It would ruin him.  It would steal the innocence that Damian found himself desperately wanting to protect. It would tear out everything good in him and leave him a shell.  

“Never,” he admitted quietly.  Richard dropped his gaze again and chewed on his lower lip.  “I want you to understand why.  My childhood aside, I do not want to see what happened to Todd happen to you. I do not want you to lose yourself the way I have seen Drake do.  I do not want you to realize the ugly truths of the world long before your time the way Cain or Brown have.  I want to protect you from all of that.”

With brows drawn down, Richard looked at him again.  He was looking at Damian with that look, the one he had seen Cain look at him with too many times to count.  The look that penetrated all the walls and shields he had put around his mind and heart.

“You want me to leave.”

“I want to take you away from here and hide us both until you are able to stand your own against Father on the subject,” he quickly corrected, not wanting Richard to think he wasn’t welcome in the Wayne family.  “I want to protect you from a fate I wish we all could have been protected from.”

Richard took a lick of his ice cream and Damian waited, worried the boy would tell him no and then tell his father everything Damian had planned.  “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Richard nodded.  “Okay.”

And Damian released his held breath, relief washing over him.  He could save one of them, the best of them.  He could do one right thing in his life, a life filled with so many wrong things.

“We leave in a week.” Richard’s eyes turned determined, and he gave a firm nod before looking over toward the playground again.

“Can I play after my ice cream is finished?”  Damian laughed and nodded, too relieved to deny him anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who is she?”  Richard asked, tugging on the black chuba Damian had selected for himself the moment they had touched down in Tibet.  The weather was fairly cool, and he hadn’t thought to purchase the proper wears before he had put his plan into motion. But thankfully he had anticipated needing to switch enough money into Yuan to get them by for the first couple of months.  It had made purchasing weather friendly clothing for himself and Richard much easier.

Looking down at Richard, Damian frowned and followed his eyeline to the familiar statue that stood at the top of the mountain, guarding over Nanda Parbat.  “She is Ruma Kushna,” he told Richard, who couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the beautiful stone statue.  He couldn’t blame the kid, he had been fascinated with the goddess when he had been younger.  She had been formidable and even his grandfather had spoken highly of the goddess. “She watches over all of those in Nanda Parbat.”

Richard frowned and looked away from the statue, blue eyes skittering over the various people wandering around the market they were making their way through in an attempt to find lodging.  “She is not kind then,” the boy said, looking up at Damian with a fierce look.

“What makes you say that?”

Richard shrugged and looked away, curiosity stealing the boy’s attention once more.  But Damian couldn’t forget that look for stubborn protectiveness that had covered Richard’s face in the moment.  It had been breathtaking if he were honest.  He couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at him like that when they weren’t preparing to fight him for one reason or another.

Pausing at a stall with various spices that smelled familiar and distant at the same time, Damian gave the older woman a friendly smile.  “Tashi delek,” he greeted her, giving a small bow of his head.  “My son and I are looking for lodging, do you know of anyone with vacancies in their home that would spare space for us?  We are willing to pay.”

The woman seemed to consider him closely, glancing from him to Richard and then back again.  He knew his excuse of Richard being his son was flimsy when someone considered their age difference, but it was the story he needed to stick to for the time being.  He couldn’t risk someone looking too deeply into their relation if they thought they were merely brothers.  And Damian would be drawn and quartered before someone took Richard from him and returned him to Bruce.

“I have a spare sleeping quarter if you could spare your strength,” the woman finally replied, kindness heavy in her old eyes.

“Tuchi che!”  Richard exclaimed, smiling brightly at the woman who almost looked surprised at his enthusiasm.  Damian struggled to hold back a smile of his own as he gave the woman a firm nod, silently agreeing to her terms.

“I am Damian and this is Richard.  We are grateful for your hospitality.”  The woman chuckled and waved them off, telling them to scout the market for anything they might need since their packs were small and probably did not hold much out of the bare necessities.  “What should we call you?”

The woman’s smile warmed, and she leaned back.  “I am Amala,” she responded.  “Now go find you both some clothing that is not of the city but of the mountain.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You are al Ghul,” Amala stated as she handed over the cup of tea.  Damian froze, eyes wide as he looked at the woman who still looked at him with that same kindness she had since that first meeting almost four months ago.  But he couldn’t figure out how she could possibly look at him that way if she knew who his family was.  “The League is well known in our village, as small as we may be.  They look after their own on the mountain.  But there were whispers of the Heir refusing to return and the Demon Head demanding justice.”

Looking down at his teacup, cradled in both hands to warm his palms from the cool night air coming in from under the door, he sighed before glancing back toward the corner where Richard was sleeping.  Confirming Amala’s words would put them both in danger of being discovered.  He had picked this village because it meant they were right under his grandfather and mother’s noses.  They would never look for him here.

But if he lied, he risked having to run with Richard again.  And the child was finally settling nicely in the village.  He had made friends with some of the other children and he was catching up on his studies.  The last thing Damian wanted to do was uproot him yet again.  His life had been disrupted enough since the death of his parents.

“I am he,” Damian admitted, looking back to Amala.  The woman smiled knowingly before pressing a finger to her lips in a ‘shhhh’ motion and Damian let out a sigh of relief.  “How did you figure it out?”

The woman shrugged.  “You have your mother’s eyes,” she said, as if that was enough to give it all away.  “And your mother used to bring you down here as a babe, just learning to walk the mountain.  I recognized you the moment you approached my stall at market.”

“Has anyone else?”

“Not that I have heard.”

But that didn’t mean they hadn’t.  If someone told his mother or even one of the footmen, Damian would need to pick Richard up and run.  He wouldn’t have a choice.  He probably should do it now before anyone had the chance to come after them.

“Thank you, for trusting us then.”

Amala waved a hand.  “I could see in your eyes that you were running from something.  That you were protecting your son from something.”  Damian held back the cringe at the word son, knowing she had to have figured out that Richard wasn’t his.  “You are safe in my home.  I will not bring harm upon you.  No matter if it is from up the mountain or from far away.”

Damian swallowed, bowing his head against the onslaught of emotion that hit him from her words.  “Thank you,” he whispered, unable to look at her just yet.  “Protecting him is all I am after.”  He looked over at Richard again and blinked away the tears.  “It is my only goal.”

“And that is what makes you a good father,” she said softly, “blood or not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Baba!”  Richard called out; voice distorted as it came into the house from outside where he had been helping plant some new seedlings.  “Dami!”  That made Damian pause.  It had been a while since Richard had called him by his name, out of habit or fear Damian couldn’t be sure which.  But it made a small sense of panic arise in his chest and had him dropping the piece he had been sketching and immediately run out the front door.

He froze when he saw a man kneeling in front of Richard, black cloak and hood pulled over his head, hiding his face from Damian but not from Richard.  But when the man looked up, Damian felt his stomach drop.

“No,” he whispered, hurrying forward and pushing Richard behind him as he glared at Timothy Drake, his father’s second eldest but first adopted child.  “You are not welcome here, Drake,” he said lowly, English rusty from lack of use since coming to Tibet.

Drake held up his hands and took a step back, but Damian held tighter onto Richard who tried to move out from behind his legs.  “I am not here to cause trouble, Damian,” Drake offered.  And Damian knew him well enough to know the man was being honest.  But it didn’t mean he could let his guard down. “He doesn’t know I’m here.  He doesn’t know I found you.”

“Trackers.”

“Rerouted.”

Taking a deep breath, Damian glanced around before giving Drake a nod and herding Richard into the house, knowing Drake would following them.  “Richard, go work on your schooling.”  Richard looked up at him, frowning at the order, before glancing over at Drake.  “Now, Richard.”  And though Damian knew the child didn’t want to, Richard walked away with a pout to the table where his schoolwork sat waiting.  “How did you find us?”  

“It wasn’t easy, you covered your tracks better than any of us expected,” Drake said, eyes watching Richard as he took his seat and began writing in the notebook.  Damian could tell he was curious, but Damian needed answers before Drake got his own.  “I looked at footage we had searched through a million times and got lucky.”

“And Father doesn’t know? I’m meant to believe you simply didn’t tell him?  You?”

“He thinks I’m off world with the Titans.”

“That doesn’t answer why you didn’t tell him.”

Drake seemed to consider his answer for a moment before shrugging both his shoulders.  “Dick didn’t seem to be in distress in the footage I found. He looked like he wanted to be with you.”

“I explained it to him before we left.  He agreed to come with me on his own.”

“Why did you take him?”

A familiar anger built in his core and Damian had to push it down with a few deep breaths before he could answer Drake without yelling.  “Because I would not let him sacrifice Richard the same way he sacrificed all of us. Because since losing Todd, he has lost sight of the true mission and we have become nothing but soldiers to him. I would die before I let that man turn Richard another glass case bearing a bloodied suit of armor,” he growled, fists clenched tightly.  

Drake watched him with those eyes, the ones Damian had always hated because it always felt like he was a risk and Drake was calculating how dangerous he was in any given moment.  As if Drake was just like his father, with a file of ways to put an end to Damian because part of him was too dangerous to be trusted.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Drake finally said, looking back to Richard with a nod.  “I didn’t believe you could have taken him for anything other than his own good.”  The cool blue eyes looked back to Damian and had lost some of the calculating look.  “B won’t stop though, Damian.  He’s desperate to find you both even though it’s been over six months.  I don’t know how long until he realizes that you hid both of you in plain sight of the League.  Does Ra’s or Talia know you’re here?”

“Not that they have revealed to me,” Damian admitted.  “Our patron, she knows of my heritage and has sworn an oath of secrecy.  But she is League loyal due to their protection.”

Damian watched Drake fully take in the appearance of the home they were in, the simple nature of it all and Damian couldn’t help but wonder what the man thought of him now.  What did he think of the haughty Wayne heir who had loved to shove that fact in every ones faces, telling them that he was the heir to one of the richest men in the world.  That he was heir to Batman, the Dark Knight.  The Damian standing in front of Drake was far from that person as Damian could probably get.

“This has not only saved him,” Drake finally said, looking directly at Damian.  There was no lie that Damian could see and though he wanted to deny what his brother said, his eyes glanced over to Richard and knew it was the truth. He was not who he had been before they had left Gotham.  He had been losing himself in his own grief and it was only the deep seeded fear of losing yet another family member that forced him to pull out of it and take action.

But he couldn’t admit that to Drake, could he?  “I wouldn’t lose him the way we lost Todd.  I did what I had to do.  He never would have listened.”

“No, he wouldn’t have.”

“And has anything changed?” Drake frowned; eyebrows furrowed. And that was enough of an answer for Damian.  “He’s just become obsessed with finding us instead.”

Drake nodded.  “It’s been bad enough that Superman watches Gotham from afar to keep B from doing something he might regret.”  And Damian knew, yet again, that he had made the right choice in getting Richard away from that.  “Can I give you a burner that only I know about?”  Damian’s eyes snapped back to Drake, having drifted back to Richard yet again.  “I want to be able to give you a heads up if he comes your way.  It might not be much of one, but maybe enough for you to get a head start.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, having that option, but Damian also knew it might give his father access to the pair of them without Drake even knowing.  But Drake did know technology more than anyone else in the family. Perhaps it was a risk he could take.

“All right,” Damian relented, giving a nod.  Drake’s features looked relieved, to the point where Damian wondered if he had made the wrong decision.  But he could work on the device later and see if it had been bugged or tampered with in any way.

Drake dug into his small pack and pulled out a small phone, probably a prototype that Wayne Tech had decided wasn’t worth the trouble.  He quickly showed Damian how to turn it on and use the basic features before it was turned off yet again and Damian was tucking it into the pocket of his pants.

“I need to go, I can’t reroute much longer.  But if you need anything, please call me.  I have your back.”  Damian gave a nod before watching Drake walk over to Richard and kneel down to talk quietly with the teen.  He didn’t bother listening in, knowing Richard would tell him what was said later, but he did watch.  He watched Richard listen and nod, responding with his own words before reaching out and hugging the man around the neck.  

When Drake stood and turned to leave, Damian was fairly certain he saw a sheen of tears in his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian knew something was different the instant he walked into the small house, even if he couldn’t immediately tell what.  It caused him to stop short in the doorway, Richard smacking into him because he had been too absorbed in the book of mathematics one of the men of the village had shared with him.

“Baba, what…?”  The child complained but Damian’s eyes focused on the figure in the corner of the room instead, not answering.

“Mother.”

The woman moved forward, like a serpent seeking prey, into the light with a smirk on her face.  “Son,” she greeted, eyes looking over his ragged appearance from his day of labor with a hint of distain before stopping on Richard. “You really do have too much of your father in you.”

Rolling his eyes, Damian shuffled Richard into the house and nudged him toward their sleeping corner. And though he didn’t think his mother meant them harm, he still kept his body between the two of them and coiled his muscles to prepare for a fight.

“What are you doing here? How did you even know?”

“Oh please, Damian,” Talia sighed and came closer before lounging in one of the chairs near the fireplace.  “Do you honestly think we weren’t aware the moment you landed in Tibet?  That we weren’t tracking you from the very start? You have forgotten your roots.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Then why did you wait so long to approach me?”

“Because we did not need you.”  That made Damian tense further.  The League needing him would lead to nothing good, he knew that deep in his core.  “I have something in Nanda Parbat that requires your attention before it can be dealt with.  And no,” she held up a hand to stop his question, “it is not your father. But it does have a link to him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  He couldn’t trust his own eyes in that moment.  It wasn’t possible.  Was it? No, he had seen the body.  He had been there as the coffin had been lowered into the plot and covered with dirt.  He had laid his hand on the tombstone and apologized for not being able to get to him in time.

But that was definitely Jason Todd in front of him.

“How is this possible?”  Damian asked, glad he had put Richard in his old rooms while he handled this.  Richard had known Todd for only a year before he had died. This was not something Damian wanted to expose the teen to before he knew what the point of all of this was.

“We are not certain. We can’t even say how long he has been like this.  He has been dead for nearly 18 months and we have had him here for the past six.” Damian frowned, walking closer to Todd, trying to catch the teen’s eye.  “He is alive and everything is in working order, but it is as though death stole his soul.”

“Of course it did!  He died!”  Damian snapped, looking back at his mother who stood a ways back watching but looked bored.  “We buried him.  We…” Breathing heavily through his nose, Damian looked back to Todd and shook his head.  They had mourned him.  And now he was there, living and breathing but lifeless.  Everything that had made him Jason Todd seemed to have been stripped away.  “What do you intend to do with him?”

His mother’s heels clicked on the marble floor as she moved closer and stopped once she reached the pair. He watched a slender hand reach out and pet the side of Jason’s face.  Annoyed, Damian’s hand shot out and grabbed his mother’s wrist to stop the obscene gesture.  “What do you intend to do with him,” he growled, gripping her wrist tightly and turning to fully face her.  He narrowed his eyes and stared her down, not willing to let her brush him off.  She had brought him here for a reason.

“We will put him in the Pit, of course,” she said, unaffected by the grip he had on her or the look on his face.  “We just wanted to see if a familiar face might wake him up first.”

“Mother,” Damian gasped, releasing her and stepping back.  “We do not put innocents in the Pit.  It is not done.”

Talia raised a brow and Damian glowered.  “There is no ‘we’, Damian.  You made your choice.”

“You cannot do that to him. He had anger before his death.  He was murdered brutally.  These are all things the League has always avoided in resurrections.”  Damian looked over at Jason’s empty eyes and frowned, shaking his head.  “You cannot sentence him to that Madness.  He is a child.”

“He is no more a child than any of you were.  My Beloved has only had one true child in his home and you stole him away in fear of him turning your precious Richard into the same monster each of you fight off daily.” Talia tilted her head, considering him. “You most of all, my son.”

“You created the monster long before he got his hands on it.”

A slender shoulder rose and fell gracefully.  “Perhaps, but you have Demon blood in your veins and you have always been destined for so much more than this charade of a life you have taken up.”

Damian clenched his jaw and looked away from his mother, unable to deny her words.  He knew this farce he and Richard had been living would not sustain them forever, but he knew it was what the teen needed at the moment. If he returned Richard to Gotham, his father would rip the child away from him and Damian would lose him to the fight he desperately wanted to protect Richard from.  The Bat would get into his head and Damian would lose.

No, returning to Gotham would never be an option until Richard was old enough to stand on his own.

“You could remain here. Take up your title again and we could train and teach the boy to be the very best.”  Damian immediately shook his head.  That wasn’t any better than the fate that awaited them in Gotham.  “It is only a matter of time before he finds you. He will exhaust all resources and then call upon me.  He will come to Nanda Parbat and hear the tinkling laughter that reminds him so much of the boy his own son had stolen away from him.  He will follow the sound to a yard where a teen with black hair and sapphire eyes kneels in the dirt, pulling weeds from around the plants that have just begun to sprout.

“He will watch in wonder at the change a year, perhaps two years, has made in the boy.  And then he will see the man who is responsible for the heartache and fear he experienced over that time, standing in the window watching the teen just as he had been.  And he will take him back.  He will threaten them both with everything in his itinerary until there is no choice but to return.”

“And then he will ruin him,” Damian whispered, closing his eyes because he knew his mother was right. It was the fear that kept him up each and every night.  His father would never stop searching and he would eventually get desperate enough to turn to Ra’s for help.  And he would come himself to plead his case because otherwise Ra’s would laugh in his face and behead whoever was foolish enough to come in his stead.

Opening his eyes, he stared into the familiar one watching him closely.  “You win.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian hated that his mother insisted on Richard being in the room with them when Todd was placed in the Pit, but he wasn’t in any position to argue.  He just hoped that nothing happened that would require him to use the sword strapped to his back in order to keep Richard safe.  The last thing he wanted was for the teen to see that side of him, the side that would require him to take up arms against another of his brothers.

But Richard stood just behind him, stubborn look on his face as he watched Todd over near the Pit. The green glow of the waters within gave the room an ethrial look but made Jason look sickly.  With that blank look on his face, Damian felt his heart ache for the boy he remembered.  He had tried harder with Todd than he had with Drake, but it didn’t mean he was the best of brothers.  He hoped the teen knew he had tried.

But emotions had never been his forte.

Thankfully, he was doing even better with Richard than he had with any of the others.  The teen had taught him much more than he ever thought possibly while he had taught the boy what little he had to offer outside of self-defense. Which, he had taught him as well. Just not to the same effect that training to be a Cape would have done.

“Are you ready to witness true magic, Richard?”  Damian frowned over at his mother when she entered the room and moved over to stand with the two of them.  He looked back and down toward the teen, who he found watching his mother with narrowed, untrusting eyes.  Good boy.

Damian had made sure that he always questioned his surroundings and stayed wary of those he didn’t know. Apparently, Talia al Ghul fell in that category.

The woman simply quirked an eyebrow at him before she walked over to where the footmen were getting ready to move Todd to the platform.  Reaching out, Damian tugged Richard closer to him in hopes to shield him from the coming disaster.  His mother might be certain this was a good idea, surely for her own gain, but he knew this was not something that should be done.  But as good of a fighter Damian was, he could not take on the entire League. And he would need to do just that if he wanted to get Todd out of there before he was manipulated and twisted into a shadow of the teen he had been.

“Let us begin,” Ra’s said as he took his place on the opposite side of the Pit.

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 9/?

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: Y/N- Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best Friend’s Name)

I am sorry. lmao.

Half of my links are glitched tf out fuck this shit, touched grass yesterday but that grind don’t fuckin stop babey

Warnings: Angst - Injury, Description of said injury, Mentions of Jason’s past, Swearing, Dark Themes, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Jason clutched his right side as he gasped for a long breath of the cold, rainy air surrounding him. Everything hurt and he could barely move enough to text Dick that he was down. He would hold and add pressure to the stab wound sitting directly on his waist, but he could feel the blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers as he held it. His hands were covered by the blood and he was losing it fast.

He wasn’t going to walk this off by any means, he was going to need Dick to go get him and bring him back to the hospital wing of the Batcave because he couldn’t move and he felt his eyes drooping as he waiting and tried to keep his breathing in check, while Dick was scrambling to go get him.

There would be a few questions he would have to answer to Y/N. Not even just Y/N, to Lian, his Goddaughter, who he was planning on seeing in the morning since Y/N was going to a dance competition, or at least he thought she was.

But in that moment, so many memories flew back into his head, the hopelessness as he sat there for a few seconds, bleeding out after the explosion that Joker had set off on him. And then the minutes in the Lazarus Pit as he drowned himself back to life, the water filling his lungs as he cried and screamed. But no one came.

This time, however, Dick came.

Dick swooped his baby brother up and onto his back and he tried to run to the Batmobile as fast as he could, knowing time was of the essence for saving Jason’s life. Jason had broke off from Dick for a few seconds before this moment, and it was the only thing Dick was worried about. That Dick had said to come back to him, alive.

In the car, Dick put his hands on Jason's gaping wound, trying to press his hands into it as well to slow the bleeding, the Batmobile had the ability to drive itself, and Dick thanked whatever God was watching that it did. Jason was struggling for breath at this moment, and Dick was terrified.

“You’re going to be oaky, Jase. I swear. Please. Don’t die on me, it feels like yesterday that I got you back,” he leaned into Jason’s face, “Not again, please,” Dick begged and begged as he rushed Jason to Alfred, who was waiting to operate on Jason.

--------------------------------------------

Y/N woke up as always, this time, without a text from Jason. She thought nothing of it, thinking he was safe in his house with his loving family. She went to go get coffee to kick start her day, and A/N wasn’t in the kitchen. She, still, thought nothing of it, since A/N’s lover was over the night before and she had to turn up her music to ignore the sounds coming from the other side of the house. She sent Jason a quick text,

Good morning, Jay. I hope you slept well.

And she returned to her room, coffee in hand, to write some quick little stories about  what she had placed in her journal. Not many of the ideas in there were able to be built off of, but she still tried her best with every idea she had, to see if it could be something more.

It normally never was, but it was always something she craved. The ideas of writing a book always enticed her, but she never thought she was talented enough to do so.

She heard her roommate’s door open and then the front door as A/N waved off her lover. It was a quiet Saturday morning, and Y/N loved that as she dove further and further into her work, immersing herself in the story of two lovers who were destined to meet after one moved to the hometown of the other to pursue criminal psychology.

She couldn’t get her mind off of Jason. They hadn’t even known each other for a week but she knew he was worth her time. A few hours passed by from when she sent the first text.

---------------------------------------------

Dick held Jason’s hand as he was hooked up to many different machines, he could breathe on his own, but the IV and the blood bags were hard to keep Dick’s eyes off of. If only I had been watching a little closer, he thought.

Jason fumbled in his pain-induced sleep, moaning and groaning as he did so when he opened his eyes to find a worried, sleep-deprived and very rough-looking Dick at his bedside, to which, Dick collapsed on Jason in a hug.

“Thank God,” Dick breathed.

“What... what the fuck.... what the fuck happened?” Jason stuttered, like a blanket of sleep and drugs had limited his mobility and brain function.

“I don’t know, Jase. That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me, but then again, your blood alcohol level was suspicious.”

“I... I didn’t drink... drink that much.”

“No, you didn’t. But you did drink, who was with you?”

“I don’t... know.”

“I think you were roofied so they could get the upper hand on you. You almost died, Jase.”

“Come...c’mere,” Jason managed to say, and when Dick came to him, he moved on of his hands onto Dick’s cheek, “Big... big annoying... big little annoying brother.”

“Shhhhhh, little wing,” Dick comforted his little brother, “You weren’t supposed to grow that much taller than me,” he laughed, “Dickhead,” he laughed again, then sighed, and stepped back from Jason to pace back and forth, he was stressed, “I told Roy-”

“Will.”

“Will, sorry. I told Will that you won’t be able to see Lian today, he asked what happened, he might drop by.”

“He should... shouldn’t have to... see me this... this way,” Jason said, eyes pooling with tears, “No one... should.”

“Don’t know how we’re going to explain this to your little girlfriend.”

“Oh... Man... I like... I like her.”

“I know you do, and that’s an issue when you’re high as a kite in a hospital bed, bleeding out, Jase,” Dick tried to explain, “Especially when she doesn’t know you’re Red Hood, dumbass.”

“Oh,” he said.

“I know, Jase. If it was me and Barbara didn’t know, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he sighed, “Haven’t even met this girl,” he laughed.

“It’s... it’s only been... 5 days,” he stuttered.

“and 3 back-to-back, multiple hour, spanning days, worth of dates. You don’t do that with someone you don’t think should meet your family.”

“You’re... stubborn.”

“And you’re my brother. It doesn’t take blood to exhibit the same traits.”

“The meds... are... are wearing off.”

“Do you need more?”

“Not... yet,” he struggled with his words, “Phone?”

“I mean, yeah I can give you your phone,” Dick said as he went to go unplug and hand Jason his phone, realizing that Y/N had texted Jason he said, “Guess you have someone who wants to know where you are more than Will does.”

“Will cares,” Jason said as he took the phone and read Y/N’s text,

I guess it isn’t morning anymore, huh.

Well that’s on me for texting you at 6 in the morning after I know you’ve been working late.

And I’m going to see my Goddaughter today, so I’ve been sleeping in to preserve energy for her.

Can’t forget that she’s what, 1 year old? Girl must have a lot of energy.

Her name’s Lian, and yeah. She’s a ball of energy.

He said as Lian and her dad, Will, formerly known as Roy, walked into the hospital wing of the Batcave. The secret wasn’t hidden to the little girl yet because she couldn’t remember a lot. But, she sure did recognize her Uncle Jay when she screamed her name.

Will brought his daughter up and put her beside her Uncle, and she cuddled into him, he would hold her back.

“Hey... Will.”

“You look like shit, Jaybird.”

“I feel... feel like shit.”

“You’re also talking slow, bud.”

“Drugs... do that... Will.”

“At least you’re not dead, I have no idea how I’d cope or even explain that to Lian.”

“She... she has your... eyes.”

“She’s growing into my nose too.”

“Your nose... looks like shit... on your face.”

“Okay, dickhead. You’re bedridden but yeah, attack me like you used to, I’ll just pull the plug.”

“Lian... would hate you... you for that,” he groaned as he said it.

“Do you need more drugs? I can tell Dick,” Will asked.

“Yeah... I think-”

“Don’t worry about finishing that, Jaybird. I got you.”

------------------------------------------------------

The wet ground surrounding the house Y/N lived in was a representation of what she considered, the bad things, washing away from her life as she got to know Jason more. She wished they could talk more that day, but she did not want to take away time from him and his Goddaughter. Family matters a lot to Y/N, so a thought like that just seemed selfish for her to think when she knew that little girl needed him.

She didn’t think he got injured or anything from the Office, it was a safer place than the fuckin Wayne Manor hallways. She texted Artemis,

So, you’re Wally’s girlfriend, and Wally is Dick’s best friend? Am I hearing you right?

That’s basically the intertwine we have here, yes.

So once you’re in this family, you’re IN, huh?

Nervous?

Not a chance.

The thrill of flipping off pap hasn’t left you yet?

Does everyone know about that? And yes, it’s still massively fun to do.

Wally says Dick is the only one who doesn’t think its that funny.

Lame.

C’mon now, that’s my best friend, but yeah, that’s pretty fucking lame.

You’re the fun best friend, then. You see the fun in making a fool of the pap.

You know it.

Artemis knew of what happened on patrol between Jason and his unknown attacker. Dick had told Artemis to distract Y/N from wondering why Jason seemed drunk, if he seemed drunk. The extents they went to to hide the fact that they were the vigilantes protecting the city, they didn’t know if she was going to be able to keep the secret.

Jason would talk to her after that message,

That storm last night was terrible.

I wish that we were together when it happened. I hate lightning.

Well, you were in Cali.

Did I not tell you? My competition was cancelled because the entire country is fucked with weather.

Oh. That sucks.

Do you want to spend the night here?

---------------------------------------

Do you want to spend the night here?

Jason stared at that text for a while. He did, he wanted to spend the night with her, but he was in pain, hooked to machines, with obvious wounds and bandages. He couldn’t spend the night with her.

I can’t. I’m in Metropolis with Will and Lian. Can we reschedule?

Of course we can. As long as you make sure we actually get to spend the night together.

He asked Dick in that moment, “How... how long... long til I heal?”

“Depends. You’ll be okay-ish in 5 days, but in 7-10 we have to take out your stitches if you’ve been taking care of them,” he said.

“That... that long? Damn.”

[sparkleofpizza]

Goodbyes - Damian Wayne x reader

Requested: no

Warnings: blood, death mention, swearing

Summary: Damian leaves reader without a proper explanation, making her wonder why he did what he did and with a broken heart. But then things take an expected turn and Tim is there to help her out.

Word count: 4.135

The door had slammed a few minutes ago. The apartment was almost silent, the windows had been locked. 

You were sitting on the floor, between the couch and the coffee table, and haven't moved in a while. There were still fresh tears streaming down your face, you were still staring at the key in front of you and were still reliving the horrible events that had taken place a few moments ago. 

"I literally can't stand looking at your face anymore." He spat, staring you down as you stared at him in confusion "I am so tired of this, of you! I was happier before you, I thought what we were doing was the right thing, but I just got bored. I think I wanted to experience how it would be like to be in a relationship. I did, now I don't want to do this anymore."

"What?" You quietly asked "I don't understand... We've been dating for three years, how could you... How could you be experiencing something for three years?"

He didn't answer, instead grabbed his key and placed it on the coffee table.

"We are done."

You watched him grab his suit cases, watched him stand at the door and look you in the eyes with no emotion on his face.

"Goodbye, y/n." And then he slammed the door shut

You were still trying to process everything, trying to find a reasonable explanation for his behavior, for what he did, but there was none. All of the things people told you about him was right, you were just too in love to see the truth lying right in front of you. You were just too drunk in his kisses, touches and tender words to realize how fake all of this was. But at the end, everyone was right.

Damian Wayne broke your heart.

The weeks went by like a blur, trying to get your life back together. Throwing yourself at work so you wouldn't have to remember you were going back home every night to an empty house. 

His family used to come a lot to visit you, now you only saw them staring at your window from across a rooftop. You would stare at them for a while, they would wave and you would wave back, but turn back around because looking at them reminded you of him. Red Hood would check up on your apartment a lot, Nightwing, Red Robin, you even saw Batman once or twice, but never Robin and that only broke your heart even more. 

There was no point in still holding on a bit of hope, so you grabbed a box and put in it all of the stuff that reminded you of him. His old t-shirts and hoodies you'd wear to sleep, in the box. The drawings he made of you and gave you as a gift, in the box. Pictures you had with him around the apartment, in the box. His coffee mug, in the box. The gifts he gave you along the years, in the box. That blanked you two used to wrap yourselves up on the couch and snuggle together, in the box.

It felt like a fresh start once you had gotten rid of everything that reminded you of him. And it actually was, throwing yourself at work did help too because it earned you a promotion and a new job location, far away from Gotham and all the way to Upper East Side in New York. Life really seemed to be taking a new direction to you, and that was all you needed at the moment.

Soon your apartment was empty, it was sold and soon the new owners would arrive. Red Hood frowned when he saw your lights hadn't been turned on five nights in a row. He always saw your lights up, this was weird. 

"She moved out." Was all he said after investigating, just in case you had been kidnapped or something worse 

Damian nodded, not bothering to look at his brothers. If he did, everyone would have seen how his eyes were red and how he was trying hard not to cry.

You, on the other hand, was crying because you weren't alone anymore. There was a baby on the way. How the hell are you supposed to take care of a baby on your own in a new city where the only people you know are your co-workers and they are still very unknown to you? 

Thankfully, as the months passed, you actually got friends who would help you manage all of the baby stuff. Carter would always be around to make sure you were eating just fine and not overworking yourself, Lizzie would always be around to keep you company and even moved in until you had the baby, just in case something happened. 

You always pictured yourself having a family with Damian by your side, life is funny. Now you had different people by your side while pregnant with his child. You just wished the kid to not have his eyes, that would be a bit too much for you to handle. 

You didn't want him to know about the kid, you were fine dealing with it alone, but Tim was too stubborn. You had bumped on him on the street - what he was doing in New York was a mystery to you - and he recognized you right away.

"Y/n you're having a baby, Damian's baby! He has to know."

You shook your head "He wants nothing to do with me, Tim. I don't want him to know about the baby, this is my choice. I am the mother!" 

"I am going to tell him." He pulled his phone from his pocket "I'm going to call him and ask him to come to New York."

"You do that and I will disappear. It will be just me and the baby, and no one will be able to find us. You know I can do that."

Tim stopped, phone mid air. You did learn a lot from them, and of course you would know how to disappear without leaving any traces and it would take a lot of time to trace you, and maybe by the time they did it you could already be at a new and different location, far far away from your previous one.

"Ok." He sighted "I won't tell him anything, but I want to be part of the baby's life. I want to be around and be able to help you with anything he or she might need."

You nodded, that was the least you could allow. And that's how he became favorite and lovely uncle Timmy. It actually warmed your heart to see your little baby Nia get to play around with Tim when he came to visit. No one knew about this, everyone always thought he was in New York for Wayne Enterprises business. 

The weirdest part of all of this wasn't one of Damian's brothers knowing the truth and not him, it was mother knowing the truth and not him. 

When Talia showed up at your apartment out of nowhere, you thought you were going to die. She looked at you in the eye and then asked to see her granddaughter, she wanted to see the heir of the League. In the middle of her wanting and swearing to precept her baby granddaughter, your relationship did kind of evolve. She didn't judge you for not telling her son about the baby, she did the same with Bruce. You wouldn't talk much, just about Nia, but it was nice to know there was always someone looking out for your both safety. 

She was a bit extreme, always, but Nia knew who her grandmother was, knew who her uncle was, knew who your parents were, knew who your friends was. She was getting a normal life and lots of love, and that was all you could wish for. 

Nia did love Carter, a lot, and that was a bonus for your blossoming relationship. You didn't know how it happened, it feels like in this three years time passed so fast, and before you could even realize it there was a ring on your finger and a promise of new house, where there would be a start of a new family and future wedding. You were getting that happy ending you dreamed about. 

Talia took you and Nia out of town, said there was an upcoming threat and once you realized it, she had driven you three to the Wayne Manor. Specifically to the Cave, the last place you wanted to be, you never thought you would ever come back to this place, ever again.

"There is a League enemy seeking out revenge. We must keep y/n and the baby safe!" Was all she said, ushering you inside with Nia in your arms - who were trying to break free to explore her new surrounds "You protect them while me and the League deal with the matter."

Everyone just stood still, staring at the three of you. Damian felt like he was being punched several times while being stabbed at the same time. You were standing in front of him after three years. After three years of him missing you dearly everyday you were finally back. 

"Hey, what's going on here?" Tim asked, arriving at the cave with a fresh mug of coffee in hand 

Oh, how you wished he hasn't shown up. Nia's eyes went wide upon hearing his voice, she released herself from your grasp, running for dear life and throwing herself on Tim while screaming the happiest uncle Timmy ever. His eyes went wide as he grabbed her before she hit the ground, securing her with her legs around his waist. She hugged his neck, giggling in his ear.

He looked at you waiting for an explanation, but you were just frozen. 

"What the fuck!" Jason exclaimed 

"Language around the baby!" Talia repreenhed him, glaring in his direction 

This couldn't be happening, no, this is just a dream and you're going to wake up really soon to get to work. That's it. 

They were all staring at you, then Tim, then Talia and doing it all over again in a loop. You could almost see their brains functioning real fast to try and catch up with all of this weird and random stuff going on here. 

"Talia brought you here because there is a League enemy on the loose and therefor you might be in danger..." Bruce stated slowly, breaking the silence "That is your daughter?" He pointed at the baby that was still hugging Tim and smiling at him as he poked her sides. You nodded, too afraid to say something "And she called Tim her uncle because they already knew each other and he is her uncle. For Talia to be worrying about your safety means you can't get hurt because of the baby... And she is only worried about the baby because she is her granddaughter. So, I'm guessing Damian is the father?"

You couldn't even bring yourself to deny and say you had gotten careless after the break up and had a one night stand with a random dude who got you pregnant. There was to many evidences pointing Damian as the father, and of course, she had his damn eyes!

Damian was staring at you with pure love and adoration. You two had a daughter? A beautiful daughter? He looked over at her, seeing her dimply smile and chubby hands hitting Tim's shoulder. He couldn't help the jealousy that over took him, his brother knew his daughter better than him. 

"That's so cool! I have a niece!" Dick exclaimed, taking big steps to where Nia was "Hello! I'm your uncle Dick, what's your name, little one?"

Your daughter frowned at him, resembling Damian when he's mad. 

"Mommy says dick is a bad word and you shouldn't say it."

Everyone laughed at his face, the mood being lighten up a little by what she had just said.

"That's his name, little bird." Tim explained "He's my older brother, so he is your uncle too."

Nia nodded, still a bit taken a back with his name and holding on thiger on Tim, not really trusting the new said uncle. 

You looked at Tim, hoping he would know a way to get you out of this mess. He was going to listen to an earful of things too, I mean he kept your secret from his whole family, you weren’t the only wrong one in this - although you did kind of manipulate him into doing what you wanted, but that was what is best for your daughter.

“Alright, I’m going to give Nia her afternoon fruit and then some cookies if she behaves.” He announced, leaving with your daughter in his arms who waved you goodbye

Dick stood still, frowning sadly.

“I don’t think she likes me.”

“She is very reserved with new people, nothing personal.” You said, hoping it would ease the tension that had installed once more

Bruce cleared his throat “I’m going to talk to Talia about this upcoming threat. Dick, Jason, why won’t you let Alfred know that y/n and the baby are staying over?”

At that, everyone left the room. Your eyes lingered on Talia’s figure waiting for an outburst of her telling she wouldn’t leave and stay there with you. She only glanced at you as if saying talk to him, and then left.

You closed your eyes, it was now or never. You knew he was probably already standing behind you. You've known Damian for a very long time, so when you turned around you had to take a step back because he was too close for your liking.

You took a while to take in his features. He seemed to had gained more muscles over the years, his eyes were soft and he same a small, almost imperceptible, smile on his face.

He was trying to engrave your new looks in his memories. How you hair was a bit lighter and shorter than before, your face, your body. Everything.

“What’s her name?” He questioned

You thought he was going to yell at you, curse you and say he doesn’t want that baby in his life, not ask her name.

“Nia. She’s two.”

He nodded his head, pursing his lips before speaking again.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you leave?”

You frowned “You broke up wit me, said you got bored and didn’t want to see me again. You’re the one that left! I simply didn’t want you in my life anymore, I couldn’t risk it you growing bored of Nia and leaving her the same way you left me. I can handle being broken, but I wouldn’t be able to watch my daughter be heartbroken and thinking she did something wrong.”

Damian’s eyes went wide. Is that what you think of him? That he is just an asshole that gets bored once he gets what he wants? He should’ve handled the situation better three years ago, things would be so much different right now.

“Y/n, no, I would never do something like that. I’m sorry for what I did three years ago, I was trying to protect you! They were targeting you, they were going to kill you if they knew I still cared, so I had to do what I did. I get that I was an idiot and that I couldn’t handled this way better, and I am truly sorry. But never, for one moment, think I wouldn’t want to have been by your side during all those time. I dreamed about getting you back into my arms, and now we have a daughter?! A beautiful and incredible baby girl! I am not letting you go, ever again. I love you so much, I don’t think I will ever be able to stop loving you.”

That you couldn’t answer. What were you supposed to tell him? Obviously Damian had been a big part of your life, and although it ended badly, he was your first actual love, the first person you moved in together, you grew together until it ended and you started growing on your own. A part of you will always love him, but it doesn’t seem worth it anymore, not after all of this.

“Damian... you know that if you want to be part of Nia’s life you can do that, you are her father, but if you ever step out of line, I will no hesitate to cut off.”

He nodded eagerly “I will tell father and we will start the preparations. Until we find a house to move in together, I will make sure Nia has a room here and...”

“What are you talking about?” You frowned “I said you could be part of her life, it doesn’t mean we are moving back here. We are staying in New York, I have a life there, Damian. I have a job, friends, fiancé. I am not leaving all of that behind.”

“You’re... You’re getting married?” He looked like a lost puppy who got kicked, it actually warmed your heart a bit “Of course you are, only an imbecile wouldn’t put a ring on your finger when given the chance.”

You bit on your lower lip. This was getting deeper then you had wanted it to go.

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t even sure why you were apologizing “He’s been around me when I needed, helped me when I was pregnant and Nia really loves him.”

“You aren’t marrying Drake, are you?”

At that you couldn’t help but laugh, of coursed Damian would think something like that.

“No, of course not. Tim is just a really great uncle.”

“Why did you tell him? Why did you tell my mother?”

“None of them were supposed to know, actually. I ran into Tim and kind of trapped him into no telling anyone, in return I told him he could be around, that’s why he’s always going to New York, to make sure Nia is ok and doesn’t need anything. As for you mother, she just showed up on my apartament one day demanding to see her granddaughter. Ever since she kind of just stuck around or made sure there was always a League member near by to keep us safe.”

He nodded, his demeanor down. It was obvious he was disappointed with you being with someone else, he never thought about you moving on - deep down he always knew this could happen, he just didn’t want to believe in it. You are his everything, but he isn’t everything to you anymore.

Staying over at the manor was really weird for you, they had gotten you a crib and placed it on the room you were staying. Jason drove to New York to get some of yours and Nia's clothes only to find the place trashed, someone was really after you and the best plan of action was to the stay at the manor where you were both safe.

You just wished this whole enemy thing to go down as fast as possible so you can resume to your normal life. You couldn't stand looking at Damian trying to get Nia to warm to him anymore, every time you did it was like a constantly painful reminder of what you two couldn't have, and the engagement ring on your finger felt heavy until the day you stopped using it, having broke up with Carter over the phone and spending the night crying on Tim's shoulders for your ruined happiness. 

When Damian showed up the following morning at your bedroom, he almost lost his temper. You were sleeping with your head on Tim's lap, he had his hand on your hair and Nia was sound asleep on the crib. He walked further into the room, feeling his heart sinking once he saw your tears streaked face. There was no need to be jealous, obviously he used to be the one to wipe away your tears and give you some comfort, but he was glad there was someone to give you that. He stopped once he noticed you weren't wearing the ring anymore. That was his chance.

"You can't go out there, you are being targeted!" Damian exclaimed, following you down the stairs 

You looked at him over your shoulder, choosing to ignore him as you kept walking.

"Y/n, do not ignore me!"

"I have work to do, Damian. I got dragged all the way here, I am going to work at the office that's located in Gotham and you can't stop me. I still need a job so I can pay the bills."

He had to bite his tongue to not say what was really on his mind. Sparking a fight with you right now would do no good, it would only make you want to leave even more. 

"I know you do, but can't you work from home?"

"No, I have a meeting and I'm already running late." You pulled a paper from your purse, handing it to him "Since Tim is out, you and the rest of the boys are on baby duty. This is everything you need to know about Nia's allergies, food preferences."

He nodded, defeated he couldn't get you to stay, but glad you were trusting him alone with your daughter. 

"At least wear this, please." He pulled from his pocket a necklace with a small pendent "It will make me feel more at peace knowing you will call if you need me."

"Ok." You put on the necklace, the distress signal necklace "But I am not going to need to use it. Don't worry about me."

He smiled sadly at you. "It is kind of hard not to worry about you, y/n."

You should've known you would have to use the necklace, it was life being a bitch to you one more time. 

Everything was as good as it could be, one moment you were discussing business and taxes, the next one of the executives had pulled out a gun and shot you two times in a row. How did this happen? Was the only thing you could think of as you lied on the floor, a pull of blood forming around you as you tried your best to apply pressure on your wounds. 

"Hey, it is ok." Robin kneeled down beside you, taking in your almost limp form, tears in his eyes "It is ok, beloved, I've got you. You're going to be ok."

"Dami, I am so glad to see you." You tried to smile thought the pain "At least we will be able to say a proper goodbye this time since I am the one who's leaving."

He shook his head "Don't say this, beloved. I am still going to take you out on a second first date and get you back. There are still so many things for us to do together."

"Is... Is Nia ok? You will take care of her for me, won't you?" Your words was slurring out, he was running with you on his arms, yelling at people to get out of way as he reached the batmobile, pushing Nightwing away from the door

"We will take care of her together." He stated before barking at Batman "Drive faster!"

When you woke up, your whole body was sore and the lighting was too bright for your liking. You tried to sit up only to end up moaning in pain. 

"Hey, hey, easy there." Damian showed up on your line of vision, gently pushing you back down "You are still recovering."

"What happened?" You closed your eyes briefly "Am I dead?"

He chuckled, pushing some hair away from your face. 

"The enemy was dealt with. And no, you are not dead. Alfred managed to help you up, Nia is with Jason and everything is alright."

You nodded, smiling a little as he grabbed your hand. You squeezed it before allowing him to caress your fingers with his.

"I was so worried I was going to loose you, that I would never see your smile or hold your hand ever again." Damian sighted in defeat "I love you so much, y/n. Please, stay here. With me, we can work things out."

"I am not going anywhere, Dami. Not now and not ever." 

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

"I promise you I will try my best, everyday, to be the best father and husband ever. For my two girls."

You hummed, content with him showing affection. Too lost in finally having his love back to think about the word husband. You would think about that later that week when he asked you the big question. 

[regrettablewritings]

Well I recently watched Trouble in the Heights, so let's go for Nevada Ramirez & Love, even if he perhaps has 1 bare inch of it in his whole body.

(I’m still fucking wheezing oh my gOD. Nevada Ramirez is 5′9″, and that ninth inch is composed completely out of the one inch of love he can actually express like a normal human being.) Similar to the Bruce Wayne one, though, some of these were sorta referenced in past Nevada pieces (what few there comparatively are). So, just in case, I included links to those pieces because they generally go into more detail in certain areas. Hope that’s all good!

Who said “I love you” first?: Well, you said it in that way first, so technically it was you. But if we just meant the actual soul of the phrase, of someone vocally expressing to another their love and interest in their well being, even without the exact words in place? It was Nevada. And even he didn’t necessarily notice it in the moment. Granted, even a sentence like, “Hey, don’t be stupid and just go straight home, understand me?” can slip Nevada’s notice as a sign of his own affection. He’s not nearly as in tune with his emotions as he’d like to think, really.

What are their primary love languages?: It’s really hard to place what a guy like Nevada’s love language could possibly be -- mainly because it’s hard to picture a guy like Nevada and a concept like love even inhabiting the same room. Being a gang leader and, well, just being Nevada Ramirez in total, he likes to give off the air that he doesn’t really necessarily need anybody — that everyone, from his underlings to even his past lovers are more or less side dressing he allows near him. But don’t be fooled: This little shit gets by on spoiling you and the affirmations he earns from them. The great thing about gifts is that in theory you could present them without needing to say much or even say anything at all. And given ‘Vada’s . . . less than delicate manner of speaking, this can be a good thing. And don’t get it twisted, he ain’t no sentimental pussy or nothing; he just sorta likes how your face glows when he just so happens to remember things like your favorite candy, or artist you mentioned wanting a framed piece by. He don’t need you to tell him he’s the best (he already knows he is), but it doesn’t hurt to hear you cry it as you practically fling yourself at him and smooch him silly. He also appreciates acts of service. Shady as his business is, it still demands a lot of the man. He won’t always express it completely but those nights when you show up at his place with his favorite takeout, or he comes home and finds the sheets have been cleaned or that you’ve done whatever he’d meant to have completed earlier that day? He almost wants to drag you to the edge of the bed and express his thanks to you. He appreciates it more than you would think.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?: Frequently, actually. There is hardly a moment wherein Nevada doesn’t have some part of him touching you: His hand resting on your hip or place in the back pocket of your jeans; your rump resting comfortably on his lap; his arm around you as you lean back in the VIP section of a club; or even just your legs over his own (or vice-versa) as you rest on the couch at home. Many would assume it’s just for show; that El Trujillo is simply asserting his dominance to all who might consider approaching you with sexual intent. They wouldn’t necessarily be wrong -- Nevada does intend to wordlessly yet loudly tell people that you belong to him. However, in addition to this, ‘Vada also just likes to show you off to everyone. And what better way to show the world his beautiful girl than to have her perched on his lap like a pretty bird on a branch?

What are their favorite things to do together?: To the surprise of no one, you two don’t have too, too much in common in terms of interest: Nevada, with his silver palate, enjoys eating out at restaurants with no less than four stars, and you enjoy going out to live shows, specifically on or even off-Broadway musicals. You don’t really care much for the strange food he likes, and he’s extremely particular about what sorts of show’s he’ll even bother with, but you do it for one another. But when it comes to what very few things you do enjoy in common, it ultimately gets narrowed down to two things: Cuddling on the couch and watching TV. Typically old shows or telanovelas because they’re both enjoyable and so terrible that neither of you can help but jeer at the bad acting, awful storylines, and cheesy sets and costumes. It’s a very strange bonding activity -- and certainly not one that anyone would associate with Nevada (and he wants to keep it that way). But it’s the one that you two enjoy the most after a long week, and a surefire way to help both parties relax and cheer up.

Who’s better at comforting the other?: Well, you’re one of the only one who can make him genuinely laugh if that says anything. Nevada isn’t an easy man to comfort, mostly because in his stubbornness, he’s become convinced that his power comes from his anger. So really, it should be sign enough that he even decided to go steady with you that he finds some sort of comfort in your presence (regardless of what he might tell you).

Who’s more protective?: Being a dealer of some infamy, Nevada is aware that he’s made more enemies than friends both in The Heights and out of them. As easy as it is to assume he doesn’t care too much about you, the reality is far from the truth: He cares deeply for you in his own Nevada way. When you go to one of his clubs, he’s never far away or not without you in his line of sight. There’s always a hand resting on your hip or your thigh, or he’ll, you’re always on his lap. Call it primal, but smart enough people who value their lives can take one look at ‘Vada’s hand resting on your ass and just know not to even bother with you. Slightly less smart may need to look at the man’s cold, murderous glower just for confirmation. And those with no sense of self-preservation have essentially signed their death warrant. But that’s in an environment he can control. Outside of his bars, his clubs, his restaurants where he’s a VIP? He’s a lot more quiet about it. Originally, he made sure you always had at least two Men-turned-bodyguards nearby you at all times, but you complained about how difficult it made everything from going to work to simply going shopping. “I don’t need your boys to know what types of tampons I use, Nevada!” you bristled. After much arguing, he eventually agreed to go another way about it: There’s actually more people with their eyes on you, often in disguise or paid off, but he’s made sure to put more distance on them so that you won’t feel as skeeved (or that you’ll even know they’re there for that matter). (For extra measure, if he can get you to agree to it, he’ll also have you equipped with a “Saturday Night Special” so to speak.) But be aware: The moment anyone so much as indicates even thinking about making you a target? That calm, cold demeanor rises to a simultaneously freezing yet infernal rage: You will be put on lock down or even ushered to a safe house until the threat can be dealt with. You will be escorted about the house at every moment by an armed man. And you will be kept safe until the threat has been literally disposed of.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?: Physical, because at least then he doesn’t have to say anything. Asshole behavior aside, Nevada knows damn well that he’s the absolute worst with words and that it honestly doesn’t take much to set you off. He figures that so long as he doesn’t have to actually say anything, he stands a better chance at not ticking you off and screwing himself over.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?: “The Wolf” by SIAMÉS. “Silvertongue” by Young the Giant. “Love Me Dead” by Ludo, if the roles were reversed . . . Nevada is just plain symbolic of something that’s bad for you but just feels so good to have. That in spite of how poisonous he actually is, he is capable of using just the right words and moves to have you addicted to him after just one drop. And in spite of everything he might insist or do, it works both ways: You’re both tragically and constantly craving the other, and it can wear you both out. But then again, that’s just what addiction is: Craving to the point of depletion. Though if you want something more optimistic, there’s also “Body Talks” by The Struts: Nevada doesn’t understand it himself but all he knows is that the very moment he laid eyes on you, he was going to do whatever it took to make you his — and, judging by your body language, you were perfectly happy to do that, so long as he worked for it. And let’s face it: El Trujillo ain’t afraid to get his hands dirty.

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?: The problem is that Nevada does have the ability to give nicknames, but he’s mostly crap at it unless there’s an ulterior motive involved. Like when he wants to keep you from being mad at him or to stop you from pouting, he’ll teasingly run a finger along your jawline and pout back a cooing “Cariño” or “Muñequita.” If he means to seduce and tease? You’re his “Good Girl.” If it’s more like he’s for once asking you to do a favor, he’ll give out a quick “Babe” or something of that nature. But if he’s just trying to apply a nickname for the sake of using one? Don’t trust him with that. Trusting him to pick a pet name based on a characteristic of yours, or in reference to an event is just not a good idea. His bluntness almost always causes him to pick the wrong thing to focus on! For example: If you have a green thumb and have taken to keeping a small windowsill garden or a corner for your plants, he’s not going to reference a goddess of greenery or even a flower or spice — he’s going to try calling you “Dirtworm” or something! (And then get frustrated when you express distaste over the name.) You’re honestly probably going to have to guide him to what sort of names you’ll tolerate and what you won’t, which shocks every and all witnesses who know anything about Nevada. A romantic interest? Telling Nevada what to do? It’s more likely than you think! Even though he’ll go along with it to pacify you, the hot-tempered man obviously can’t help but feel as thought you’re being unreasonably picky. After all, he’s more than satisfied with the nicknames you usually give him. Granted, they’re just the same nicknames he’s been going by for years now: El Trujillo, Jefe . . . He used to be called “Daddy” in the VIP sections of his haunts, but that title has since been reserved only for you. That, and ‘Vada. And “Baby Boy”, but only very, very sparingly. Which is still more than he’d let anybody else get away with.

Thank you for your patience!

[meterokinesis]

Stars as Sharp as Knives

Read it on AO3

Prompt: stabbed

TW: Violence, PTSD, Disassociation

Summary: Tim remembered getting stabbed in vivid detail. The images were horrifying on their own, but together they formed a sick film that played on loop in Tim’s mind. Even after waking up the next morning, and the morning after that, he kept wondering: why am I alive?

Tim remembered getting stabbed in vivid detail.

In a job like this, where you either saved the day or ruined it all, he was used to cuts and scrapes and wounds. He anticipated them even, which the first aid kid he kept in his utility belt could attest to. But getting stabbed that night in the desert was something else.

The sound of steel through flesh. A cruel whisper. Blood, warm and sticky. Sand in his nose and eyes. Cool near-winter wind that ruffled through his hair. Dirt under fingernails. The weight of a body dragged behind him. Brick walls with metal stairs. A soft bed, with downy pillows stained rust.

The images were horrifying on their own, but together they formed a sick film that played on loop in Tim’s mind. Even after waking up the next morning, and the morning after that, he kept wondering: why am I alive?

This was a question he’d been asking himself for longer than he cared to admit. He was alive because no one had managed to kill him yet, and no more. If the universe had its way, he would be dead eight times over. Tim was just lucky, he supposed. But not lucky enough to escape the nightmares.

He remembered while attempting to sleep in the lavish jail cell Ra’s al Ghul concocted for him. He remembered while training with high level assassins, every time they went for a jab at his stomach. He remembered when Tam hugged him, and his reflex was to make sure she didn’t have a knife. He remembered on his first night back in Gotham, when he had to update his medical records to say “Patient has no spleen after a traumatic injury to the abdomen.”

The nightmares were the worst. They played out the scene in gory detail, each time with a new sort of reverence for Tim’s suffering. It wasn’t always the Widower who stabbed him; sometimes it was his father, or Jason, or Damian, or the mugger that killed Bruce’s parents. On bad nights, it was Bruce. On worse nights, it was Stephanie.

The nightmares persisted long after he defeated Ra’s al Ghul at Wayne Enterprises, long after Bruce finally returned and Tim was welcomed home with open arms. No, they lasted for months--every night a sick remembrance.

                                     ____________________

The first time he sparred with Dick after ending Ra’s plot, he used the new skills he picked up at the Cradle. At first they traded blows lazily, wearing down the floor by walking the same steps of a familiar dance. Then Tim dared to spin out--try one little move--and the game was afoot.

Tim didn’t pretend that he was better than Dick--he knew he wasn’t. But he had more range and was the better strategist, so at least their spars were interesting. They danced around the mat, neither submitting. Like all of their practices, it went until someone gave in or passed out. The Waynes never called out.

Dick went for Tim’s shoulder with his escrima sticks, which Tim blocked with his bo staff. By the time he registered the other stick moving toward his stomach, it was too late.

Forgoing all sense of etiquette, Tim roared and swung out with his staff, trying not to relish in the feeling of it connecting with Dick’s head.

“Jesus, Tim, what was that?” Dick’s voice floated from somewhere above. “I know we didn’t specify ‘no headshots’ but it seems like a giv- holyshitareyouokay?” It was then that Tim realized he was sitting on the ground, his head between his knees and his hands protecting his neck. In a way, he looked like the tornado drills they made him do at school, even though Gotham never had tornadoes. His body didn’t feel entirely real, like instead of inhabiting it like always, he was merely borrowing it for a second.

Dick’s voice, no doubt saying something reassuring, murmured in his ear. The words all blended together in a soup of pleasant sounds, one that Tim didn’t even attempt to decipher. Somewhere in the haze, he heard the telltale click of the comms, followed a few minutes later by heavy footfalls.

Bruce’s gruff voice took over for Dick’s soothing one, asking him questions that he didn’t know how to answer. Even if he could, he wasn’t entirely sure his mouth was still a mouth, let alone one that could form words. Instead, his brain gave him a front-row seat for the premiere of his least favorite movie in existence, where Dick stabbed Tim in the abdomen, his face contorted into something evil and totally unlike Dick. The Not-Dick didn’t stop after the first time, of course. Instead the scene rewinded over and over again, like a broken film from a museum about the tragedies of war.

Tim didn’t remember anything past that.

                                      ____________________

Tim woke up in his bed at the Manor, his heartbeat thunderous but slow. He opened bleary eyes to see Bruce sitting in the armchair near his window, reading a copy of the Wendy the Werewolf Stalker comic tie-ins Bart had given him last year for Hanukkah.

“Good morning. Or, should I say, evening. You almost slept for a full day,” Bruce said warmly, closing the book.

Tim didn’t return his tone. “Why are you here?” He demanded, clutching his blankets where they fell on his lap.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Bruce avoided the question with trained ease, something Tim saw much too often in himself.

“I- Yeah. A little.” He remembered Dick stabbing him, but that couldn’t be Dick, right? They were in the desert, and it would take at least a day to get from the Syrian Desert to Gotham. His hand wandered over to his stomach. No open wounds or bandages, but there was a long scar.

“You disassociated. Do you know what that means?” Bruce asked, and Tim nodded mechanically. “We think that something during sparring practice triggered a trauma response.”

Tim heard the words, but he wasn’t sure his brain was following all the way.

“I’m fine, B. I just freaked out a little. No big deal.”

Bruce leveled his dad-stare at Tim. “Tim, with all due respect, that was not ‘freaking out a little.’ You were curled up in a ball on the mat, refusing to speak to us. When we managed to coax you into a sitting position, you attacked me. We had to put you in a safe hold until you calmed down.”

Tim opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“I think we need to talk about this. I understand if you don’t feel safe yet, you’ve been through a lot over the past year. I love you and I want to be here for you, but if a professional would help, we can do that too. Dick knows this guy in Metropolis-”

“No!” The word was out of Tim’s mouth before he could stop it, followed by a torrent of others. “I don’t need a shrink. I’m fine. Can I leave now? Or are you going to keep me prisoner like he did?”

“Of course not,” Bruce said, his voice heartbreakingly gentle. “This is your home, Tim. You can come and go as you please. However, I think we need to talk about-”

“Cool. Later.” Tim rolled out of bed and tugged on shoes and a jacket as Bruce tried to reason with him. They both knew that he could try to keep Tim here, either with logic or the threat of getting grounded, but neither would work. At his best, Tim was tenacious. At his worst, he was stubborn.

Tim traipsed down the grand staircase as Bruce followed behind him. Damian glowered at him from the sitting room, but at least he didn’t say anything. Dick was nowhere to be found. Tim pushed his way out of the manor, a small smile of satisfaction crossing his face when the door slammed and cut off Bruce’s pleas. It reminded him of every bad teen movie he’d ever watched, except the exhausted dad and pushy mom were replaced by Batman. Wasn’t that every kid’s dream?

                                       ____________________

He wandered through Bristol township, avoiding the spots he knew the paparazzi liked to frequent. Wouldn’t that be a million-dollar picture: Bruce Wayne’s high-school-dropout-turned-CEO son walking through the sea of McMansions in converse, a kid’s tracker bracelet, pyjama pants, and Cass’s purple NorthFace.

He was on some cul-de-sac where every house looked the same when he heard the telltale swish of someone following him. He didn’t turn around, just kept up his leisurely pace. Either they’d announce themselves, or they wouldn’t.

He got his answer when a hand snaked over his chest and a body pressed against his back, stopping him in his tracks.

“Hello, Detective,” Scarab whispered in his ear, and Tim’s veins turned to ice. Her hand cupped his face, and she slid around to his front. Tim didn’t believe in God, but he had no doubt that she was Satan incarnate.

“I have a gift for you,” she purred, her hands tracing his sides and back. He didn’t dare respond. “It’s from your friend.”

Tim swore his heart stopped. Ra’s al Ghul didn’t send gifts, he sent warnings. And threats. And death. Which is why he wasn’t entirely surprised when Scarab drove a knife into his chest with a sort of tender ruthlessness. She guided him to the ground, left a ghost of a kiss on his temple, and stepped out of view.

Tim lay gasping on the pavement, trying not to bleed out. His fingertips brushed the bracelet, weakly holding down to send out a tracking signal. If he was lucky, they’d see it. If not, then he’d die. It was that simple.

The stars here were dimmer than the ones in the desert. It was all the light pollution, he knew. Same stars, but an altogether different sky. There was a metaphor there somewhere, but he had lost too much blood to focus enough to find one.

His eyelids felt heavy, and it took everything in him to keep them open. Bruce would be here soon. He had to be. He was Batman, that’s what he did.

As Tim staggered through each breath, he couldn’t help but remark the irony of it all. He’d spent all this time worried about one old wound that he hadn’t seen the next one coming.

[paradise-creator]

Than,, thank you?? So much for the match up?? It warms my heart bby ;-;

Anyhow, here’s my description!!

She/her, Taurus, INTJ, slytherin

Personality: the first thing people notice about me is that I am less of a feeler and more of a thinker. I do have an IQ of 125, but my emotional intelligence is quite low, so I have trouble sympathizing with others. But I learned through experience, so I don’t SEEM emotionless. I can (and will) help my friends through tough times if they need me. I’m pragmatic, so I always go for the facts instead of the feelings during decision making or tough situations. I hold a lot of perfectionist traits that make it really hard for me to be satisfied with my results if they aren’t higher than the norm. I also have a slight issue with saying no, so sometimes I’ll offer my help or enrol myself in long-term projects while knowing I legit do not have time for more stuff on my schedule. Being a bit smarter than average, I sometimes feel like I’m obligated to help others so that they can do good too (however, I do like helping people with their hw to a certain extent). I’m working on those issues though!! I’m also an introvert, and I can get rlly tired if I have to be interacting for more than four hours straight with people, especially if their persona isn’t rlly compatible with mine.

However, when I’m surrounded by friends (or generally people who aren’t my superiors), I’m very energetic, loud, silly and I have a sharp tongue. My sense of humour goes from absolute nonsense to almost mean spirited sarcasm, but it all depends on who I’m talking to. I’m a MAJOR memer, I have a bunch of files filled with them, and I couldn’t bear be with people who didn’t understand my meme references. When I start liking something, I can get easily obsessed. I’m stubborn, therefore very passionate about the things I care about. I also have a slight case of the Endorphin Junkie, meaning that I really, really like the high you get after sports so I do crossfit training like five to six times a week. I’m unapologetically myself, and I will not ever change who I am to fit within the norm. I’m sometimes told that (that I’m odd, I mean), but I usually thank the people who tell me. I have a really, really big love for music and I have a tendency to break into song sometimes when people say a line from a song I know.

Appearance: I’m around 5’6”, with hazel eyes and brown hair that goes around to my shoulders. It gets curly out of nowhere. I can either wake up with straight hair or wake up with a freakin perm, it’s funny. My body isn’t exactly the lean type, I’m somewhere around the buff area of the scale instead, but as long as I seem visibly strong, I’m satisfied. When I’m not going anywhere significant, I usually just wear sport shirts and sweats, but I have a penchant for Dark Academia so I like /looking/ like I’m smart sometimes. And I have glasses bc apparently my eyes are assholes and they work too hard and it hurts my brain all the time

Likes: music (DavidBowieDavidBowieDavidBow-); I have a really wide range of music that goes from early 2000’s pop to 1700’s requiems. I enjoy studying theoretical fields, reading, and I like talking about Absurd Theories About Reality That Make Little To No Sense. I like sports, and I love joking around with friends in the most exaggerated ways. I also love the colour green and I’m more of a cat person

Dislikes: dogs (they’re cute but keep them away pls), ignorant people, irresponsible people, spiders, things I’m not good at from the beginning, having to deal with strangers being upset, crying (me. I don’t like crying; I mean me, I’m fine if my friends cry)

Other fun facts!!

- my goals for the future are all over the place; I want to work for Disney, I want to get a musical composition degree, I want a biomedical engineering bachelors degree, I want an astrophysics doctorate, I want to study languages, I want to be a foreign English teacher... I can’t ever decide.

- I have a long history with getting crushes on guys who turned out to be gay. It happens so often and I HATE IT, it makes me feel terrible.

- I!!love!!70’s!!music!!so!!much!! I was raised on that stuff, my dad wouldn’t let us listen to anything else

- Lol my favourite playlist name is Drugs Playlist But I Don’t Even Do Drugs it’s just a bunch of Pink Floyd and David Bowie songs

- My favourite movies are 80’s or 90’s comedy classics!! Like Wayne’s World, or Airplane!, or Night at the Roxbury. I keep quoting Wayne’s World and no one understands :(

Lol it’s very long I Apologize

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Hello and Welcome my Starlight!

The Haven box includes:

- Match up

- Sun drop

- Dreamscape

- Study date

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

I'd match you up with

Kuroo Tetsuro, The captain of Nekoma

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Sun drops

The reasons why I paired you

-Honestly it took me a while to think on who you would match with (You just remind me so much if my best friend that I ship with Yams-)

- I had Sugawara or Kunumi in mind but I decided that Kuroo would be a perfect match! (THAT HEIGHT DIFFERENCE THO)

- Kuroo is a very smart man and he's also very observant.

- So you might lack in the expressing emotions, Kuro's got you (He'll buy those flip plishies to know your mood or smth like that)

- And though Kuroo is the outgoing type, he will definitely respect your boundaries

- I mean Kenma is a major introvert so Kuroo will know what to do

- Not only that! Kuroo has this sense of protectiveness and motherly vibes (Canon Kuroo that is-). So he will definitely take care of you

- He has his iconic hyena laugh, Meme exchange is a must! And you both would often have laughing fits.

- Did I mention that he'll take care of you?

- He absolutely and I mean absolutely adores your passion for music like yes

-He loves your style and the two of you would often have matching couple outfits.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Dreamscape

(A surprise drabble!)

"Out of everyone, YOU GOT A GIRL FIRST?!?" Yaku yelled as his eye twitched. "Got that right, Yakkun," Kuroo then said with a smirk. "And you are still as single as ever, docosahexaenoic acid. Still chasing after the same girl, huh?" He added as he patted the shorter male's shoulders. "And so what?!?" Yaku yelled back. "And the Demon-senpai strikes again," Kuroo stated as he backed away. "Kuroo-senpai! Can you tell us about her?" Lev asked enthusiastically. "You seem enthusiastic," Kenma said. Then Lev restarted back and it became a one sided argument.

Soon enough, the drama died down and Kuroo started to talk about his one and only. "She's amazing~" He started. "She's a bit odd but I love her nonetheless. She kinda reminds me of Kenma and Bokuto in a way. She loves music and would often send me some songs to listen," And that was the start of a half hour rant of his girlfriend. Right then and there, Lev regretted his decision.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Study date

Kuroo and his Oxytocin (lover), were having a small study date. They were in Kuroo's house and were enjoying their little date time before they study. The Mario team song was playing as the two were racing. "YES! I'M WINNING!" His lover yelled as she was in front of him. "Not for long~" Kuroo stated as his focused was on the screen. As time passes and the gap widens, Kuroo turned to his plan B. He then looked at his Oxytocin and kissed her out of nowhere. The girl immediately responded to the kiss and stopped pressing the buttons. Soon enough, Kuroo passed the girl with ease and won. His lover looked at him with a betrayed look and then scowled. "You cheat!" Hse said as she pointed a finger to him.

"C'mon my Oxytocin~ I didn't cheat in Mario carts!" Kuroo declared as he gazed at his lover. "Didn't cheat?!? Didn't cheat?!? YOU KISSED ME IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GAME!" She yelled as she hit his shoulders gently. "And? We didn't lay any ground rules so what's the point?" Kuroo then stated. The girl huffed and played the controller down. "Should we start studying?" She asked as she picked up a book. The book was a chemistry book taht wasn't even for their curriculum. It was just an extra book to fulfill Kuroo's love for chemistry. She placed it down and picked up her book instead. "We still have a bit of time," Kuroo started as he patted on his bed. He then stood up and gazed at the book she took. And English book to be exact, he took the book and placed it down. "Let's cuddle for a while," He added as he pulled you to his bed and cuddled you.

"And I wonder if your team mates know how much of a cuddle monster you are?" She said as she chuckled. Kuroo placed his arms around her body and nuzzled his head on her hair. "Yes, of course. I won't shut up about you," he added as he pulled you closer. "So are we studying or not?" She then said as she kissed his cheek.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Author's note

Thanks for complying with my request! I hope it wasn't much of a bother. 👉👈

I had fun writing this! I hope you enjoy this one~

[nxrthmizu]

Daminette December Day 11: ‘Snow’

@daminette-december2019

---

Winter had arrived, with the turn of the seasons having made their whole circle. The coldest time of the year had arrived, and if he was truly honest, Damian loved winter. It was cold and dark often, which... Somehow he related to his personality. His personality was cold and dark. Seemed like a fitting season for him. He’d always though that Grayson was the cool, cheery spring, Todd was summer, bothersome and awfully temperamental, Drake was autumn, windy and flighty- And he’d been winter. For obvious reasons. 

However, because of his... Roommate, winter had become a little more difficult. 

Somehow, his little angel had forgotten to mention that ladybugs were... Sensitive to cold. 

Actually, the word sensitive was a little light. 

Marinette had huddled in blankets, sweaters, and jumpers ever since the first hint of snow appeared. She’d practically have hibernated if it wasn't for him returning everyday with food and warm chocolate to heat her up. Honestly, he didn’t know how she would’ve survived without him. Both the dark-haired angel and her kwami had been completely housed in for the past three days. 

Damian let out a breathy, warm sigh as he approached their apartment, a bag of cookies and pastries in one hand and another bag filled with vegetables and groceries in another. He’d also picked up a few balls of yarn for his precious angel to pass the time with while she was housed in. 

“Angel? I’m home.” He called out, jiggling his keys in the doorknob to let her know he was back in case she didn’t hear his call. 

“Damian!” Her bright cheery smile and voice instantly conjured a warm feeling in his heart. He quickly dropped the bags by the side of the door, opening his arms to catch a flaying bundle of sweaters, jackets and blankets. 

“Hey, angel.” He whispered softly, nuzzling her soft blue hair gently. “How’re you holding up, hmm?” 

She whined a little, her large bluebell eyes staring into his emerald ones. “It’s cold.” She complained, not letting go of her grip around his neck. Damian sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to get off him, and he picked up the groceries with one hand, setting them down on the kitchen counter. 

“That’s what winter is like, love.” He pointed out with a little chuckle, trying to loosen her arms around his neck. “Angel, do you think you could let go long enough for me to take off my coat, hmm?” 

Marinate pouted, but obliged and let him set her down on the couch as he unravelled the grey scarf she made him, along with the black-fur-lined-coat she had handmade the day before. She smiled pleasantly at her handmade clothes on him, beaming even more when he revealed the Slytherin sweater she made underneath the other layers of clothing. He noticed her bright approval at his clothing, and he laughed softly, sinking onto the couch next to his angel, wrapping his arms around her as he kicked a fluffy blanket up to cover the both of them. 

They sat in silence for a little while, and then- 

“Can we make a snowman?” 

Damian was appalled. “Mari, love, you literally get so pale you’re practically white the moment I open the door. Are you sure you can walk out of the house?” 

She pouted. “But I want to build a snowman, and it never snows so much in Paris. Please?” 

Damian hesitated, looking down. Do not look at her puppy eyes, do not look at her puppy eyes, do not- 

“Dami- Please?” She gripped his arm, staring right into his eyes. 

Shit abort abort abort-!

Well, Damian would like to think that he was stubborn and refused for the wellbeing of his precious angel, but...

“It’s so white!” She gasped, looking all around the two of them. Her skin had begun to turn a pale blue, and he gave her a worried grunt, wrapping his arms around her waist to provide body heat. 

“Angel, are you sure-” He murmured softly, only to be cut off by an excited ladybug. 

“I’ll be fine, kitten.” Marinette chastised, giggling when a snowflake melted slowly on her palm. “It’s so beautiful.” 

He smiled fondly at the dark-haired girl in pure white snow. Her dark-blue hair flowed around her shoulders, tucked in by a long grey scarf that was protectively wrapped around her. A giant black-fur-lined coat was snuggled up against her skin, hopefully providing more warmth. 

But the serene moment was quickly interrupted. 

Marinette gasped softly, her pink lips turning even paler than possible. Before he could scream a warning or even catch her, she plummeted into the snow, her skin paling even more drastically.

“Angel!” 

---

He would never forgive himself. 

“Damian, love, it’s not your fault.” She tried to say as she looked guiltily at him under a mass of twenty blankets. 

“I shouldn’t have given in.” He scowled at himself. “Tsurugi is on her way. She’ll be way better being stubborn with you.” 

“Doubt so.” Luka remarked as he entered the apartment quietly. “No one, not even Kagami, can say no to Mari’s puppy eyes.” 

“Which is why the more of us there are, the more effective we can be.” Damian pointed out a little harshly, still mad at himself. “She’s not going out there again.” 

Luka glanced between Damian’s furious glare at himself in the mirror, and then at Mari, huddled under twenty blankets, watching everything guiltily. “Umm... Is it a bad time for me to here?” 

“No.” “Yes.” 

“DAMIAN FUCKING WAYNE YOU BETTER HAVE AN EXPLANATION FOR WHY YOU LET OUR ANGEL INTO THE SNOW OR I SWEAR TO EVERY GOD IN THIS- UTTERLY RIDICULOUS! LET ME GO, KAGAMI! LET ME MURDER HIM! UTTERLY- UTTERLY RIDICULOUS!” 

“Wayne, give me an explanation before I decide to let her go and chase you myself.” Kagami gave Damian a fierce look, to which Damian growled. 

“I was an idiot, okay? Kill me if you must. In fact, kill me.” Damian growled angrily. “I let her out. Yes, I was stupid. Kill me.” 

Luka stayed silent as the blonde and her girlfriend continued to screech and throw threats at the dark-haired twenty-two year old man, who angrily accepted every thing they threw at him. 

“Um, guys, shouldn’t we be worried about protecting Mari instead of, um.” Luka attempted to break up the shouting match (Chloe versus herself two seconds ago), but sadly, failed. 

“Chloe, please.” Marinette tried, looking half-amused and half-weary at the ongoing shouting match. 

“Um, I have an idea.” Luka voiced meekly over the still-flaming blonde. “Why not we bring in a little snow in and build a snowman here?” 

The room went absurdly silent at the idiotic suggestion. 

“It’s- It’s literally so stupid that it’s possible.” Kagami reacted first, a little grin lighting up on her face. 

“Utterly ridiculous, but.” Chloe tapped a finger on her lip. “We could try.” 

“No!” Damian protested. “No one’s going near any snow!” 

“Please? Dami?” Marinette pouted. “Just once.” 

---

Damian couldn't believe it. 

There was a pile of snow in his apartment. And by a pile of snow, he meant twenty tons of melting ice sitting on his tiled floor. 

“My name is Olaf, and I love hugs!” Marinette mimicked, wiggling the twig-arms of their tiny snowman. 

Chloe and Kagami let out a little giggle at Marinette’s remark, Luka letting out a little chuckle by the side. Even a scowling Damian managed a little smile at his angel smiling. 

Winter was a cold and dark season, sure, but within that coldness and darkness... There were friends and families who were there to provide warmth and light. 

[dc-x-readers]

Your Boy (Damian Wayne x Parental!Reader)

This is not a romantic fic, and it is gender neutral! Yay Me!

People who are always asking me for a part 2, don’t worry this one will have one. I hope you all enjoy!

TW: Cannon typical injuries, mentions of blood

You found him lying on the street. If you had been anyone else you would have probably kept moving, averted your eyes and pushed the image from your mind. But you were new to Gotham, and you still had that bleeding heart; so you walked over to the boy who lay in the grimy alley way in a too expensive suit and a bloody head.

“Hey kid.” You said, shaking his shoulder lightly, hoping the child would wake up.

The kid did, his eyes shot open, dark hazel orbs meeting your own. He looked scared and disoriented. You weren’t the most parental figure, but you suddenly wanted to wrap the child up in your arms and hold him close, tell him it would all be okay.

“Kid.” You tried again, “We need to get you to a hospital, or the cops, or something.”

This seemed to wake the kid up immediately, he looked at you with wide eyes, “No. No hospitals.”

Probably a street kid then, you nodded to yourself, because street kids never wanted to be put back into the foster system, and that broke your heart slightly. But you didn’t say that out loud.

“Listen kid,” You tried again, softly this time, “You’re bleeding from a head wound. It’s probably not good. I’m no doctor, you should really get checked out.”

The kid whipped at his forehead as if he was just noticing the blood. He didn’t say a word, just stared down at his bloodied hand.

“Come on. I’ll take you to urgent care. They don’t ask too many questions there.” You said finally, standing up and then offering him a hand up as well. The kid took it, sluggishly and you smiled at him.

He was small, but he was deceptively heavy, probably all muscles. But his weight meant you couldn’t carry him, you would just have to help support his weight. The two of you made it to the free clinic in good time, and in almost complete silence, aside from a few groans of pain.

While the two of you sat in the waiting room the boy attached himself to you, it was like he imprinted on you. You were filling out paperwork fo the kid, in preparation for him to see the doctor.

“What’s your name kid?” You asked not looking up from the file, you expected a quick answer, and after a moment of silence you looked at the child sitting next to you. He looked horrified, he didn’t even know his own name, he must of hit his head really hard.

“Shit kid,” You whispered, “You’ve got to–”

Fear and panic swam into the kid’s eyes, “No please, I can’t go…” He trailed off.

This kid was terrified of something, and he didn’t even know what it was. You felt pity for him, you couldn’t throw him back to the wolves that was the foster system. You wanted to protect him, which was odd, because you had never felt an urge like this before.

“Fine, fine. For now you are going to say you are Ian L/N.” You whispered pulling a name out of your ass, “and you are my baby brother. Got it?”

The kid nodded, “Ian.” He said in confirmation.

The nurse didn’t say anything when you gave her the paperwork, but she did look between you and the little boy. She didn’t seem to believe you were related. But this was the bad part of Gotham, and the boy was still clinging to you as if his life depended on it, so she didn’t say a word.

A few hours later Ian returned to you, his head was sewn shut with three stitches, and the tired nurse explained that he had a concussion and that probably caused his memory loss. The memories would return in their own time, and that you shouldn’t force them. She said that with a concussion he shouldn’t do anything that provided too much brain power, and absolutely no electronics. Then she sent the two of you home.

You didn’t know what to do with the kid, Ian now, but you couldn’t just leave him on the street again. So you took him to your home, it was a small studio apartment with barley enough to take care of yourself, let alone a child. But you heated him up some canned soup, and then put him to bed in your bed, while you took the scratchy couch.

That night you dreamed of nothing.

It was a week after you had found Ian, and you were gladly getting into the routine of him being in your house. You would leave early in the morning for work, always giving him a kiss on the forehead and making him promise to take it easy with his concussion. You would come home after your shift with new foods, those that an eight year old (you were assuming he was eight, he looked young) might like. Then together you would take a short walk around the block, and Ian’s face would light up everytime he saw an animal. You loved it when he smiled, for a small kid he was too serious, except when he saw a dog or cat. He would always ask the owner if he could pet the animal.

It was a normal night for the two of you, he was reading one of your old books, and you were cooking dinner for the two of you. You heard the book fall to the ground. You turned around scared, because Ian was surprisingly agile, and you had never seen him drop anything. He was staring at you, his hazel eyes wide and scared.

“Y/N.” He whispered it, it was a terrified whisper, and you ran to him, abandoning the dinner. “Y/N, I remember my name. It’s Damian. I’m Damian – I am Damian something.”

Ian–Damian, was crying now, and you didn’t know what to do. This kid didn’t show his range of emotions a lot, so you just reached around him and gave him a hug.

“Why can’t I remember who I am?” Damian asked softly.

“You will. I know you will soon.” You whispered.

The dinner was forgotten and went cold, but you kept holding Damian as he cried. And you were okay with that.

Damian’s concussion had faded away, and you were worried about him being in your apartment all day, it might look like kidnapping or something, so you enrolled him in school, under the name Damian L/N.

After his first day of school you treated him to a night out, you couldn’t afford a fancy dinner, but you went to a small greasy diner and ordered him an ice cream. You asked him how his day was, and Damian told you that everyone at his school was an imbecile, and you laughed.

You don’t know exactly when it happened, but Damian had somehow wormed his way into your heart, and now you couldn’t imagine your life without him.

You couldn’t imagine walks without him stopping every dog owner to ask if he could pet them.

You couldn’t imagine going to the park without him playing with a stick, acting like it was a sword. (You had noticed he was all too good with it.)

And you definitely couldn’t imagine Friday nights when you two would curl up in your chair and watch movies, Damian likes action movies, and you indulged him.

You worried about the fact that Damian still hadn’t regained any of his memories from before he was with you. You tried to get him to go to the clinic, but every time he would conveniently disappear and not come back until you sighed that you wouldn’t take him. From his fears of the police and the hospitals, you figured it was a life he didn’t really want to remember so you tried not to push it too hard.

The two of you had been together for six months when everything changed, and you were so happy about it. Damian was home from school, his homework spread out on your table and you were happily reading a new book from the library.

Damian without looking up from his home work said, “Hey mother, I need you to sign a permission slip for me.”

Damian didn’t even notice that he called you mother, but you certainly did. You stared dumbfounded at the boy at the table, you heart soaring. You had never felt so good, so accomplished, in your entire life. Damian saw you as a mother, and you (God help you) saw him as a son as well.

“Y/N” Damian said again, this time looking up, “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah Dami. I’ll sign it.” You were still smiling like a fool and Damian noticed, but he said nothing.

The field trip was on Monday and you and Damian were on your daily walk to the park. It was growing colder, and the sun was going down earlier. Damian had insisted he didn’t need a jacket, and his teeth were now chattering, but he was too stubborn to admit he was cold, and you were laughing silently at the ordeal.

“We better get going.” You told Damian, looking at the fast darkening sky, “It’s getting dark, so no petting any dogs okay.”

You loved Gotham, but it was not the type of place that you wanted to be at night, even if Batman would protect you.

“TT. I’m not afraid of the dark.” Damian huffed.

“Well I am Dami. So we better get going.” You replied automatically.

“I will protect you if anything happens Umi.” Damian boasted, he had started calling you Umi about three months ago, and after your initial confusion you googled it to learn that Umi was Mom in arabic. Which was at least one clue into his past.

“I know you will kid.”

They two of you were about two blocks from your apartment, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, when none other than the Batman jumped in front of the two of you. You pulled Damian behind you, putting yourself between your kid and a grown man with a weird fursona.

“You.” The Batman seethed, his voice was gravelly and dark. He sounded like he was going to kill you, and you knew the Batman didn’t kill so you were terrified. “Stole him away from me.”

Him?

Did Batman know your Damian? Was that his life before you, as the Robin? No wonder the kid was bloody and bruised when you met him.

“No,” Damian said, trying to get out from behind you, but you wouldn’t let him. Because you be damned if you kid got hurt by a costumed vigilante. “No father, she didn’t steal me. She saved me.”

While you couldn’t see the Batman’s face, you could feel his palpable shock at Damian’s words. They mirrored your own shock, because Father?

“Young man,” You said, not looking at Damian, because you still were keeping yourself between him and the Batman (who apparently is his father), “You told me you didn’t remember your past. You lied to me?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.” Damian huffed, stepping around you so he could see the Batman fully.

Damian sighed and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards your apartment, “Come on.”

The Batman followed behind you silently, and it was awkward to say the least, for a vigilante to be walking behind you and your kid, him towering over your shoulder. You could feel the Batman’s eyes on you, as if this were all your fault, and not his for leaving his son to bleed out in a dirty alley way.

As soon as you three all entered your apartment, Batman rounded on Damian.

“You left. You were gone for almost a year, do you know how worried I was. I thought you had died!”

“I didn’t die, I was completely safe. Y/N was taking care of me.” Damian replied shortly, one hand was curled into a ball, and the other was still holding your own. It reminded you of the first day you had him, when he wouldn’t let go of you, as if you were his life line.

“But I didn’t know that!” Batman countered, raising his voice so that you flinched. Damian squeezes your hand tighter, stepping a little in front of you, as if he was protecting you. The movement didn’t escape Batman’s knowledge, and he took a deep breath to calm himself.

“Damian.” You spoke softly, and the boy turned to look up at you, his big hazel eyes wide and full of terror. You never raised your voice at the boy, and you wouldn’t start now, “You should have told him where you were. You should have told me you remembered you past. Why didn’t you?”

And you could see the tears gathering in Damian’s eyes. He acted so strong and mature, sometimes you forgot that he was still just a child. You kneeled down and pulled him into a tight hug, “He would have taken me away from you. And I didn’t want to leave Umi. I wanted to stay with you.”

You looked at the Batman, who was watching the display carefully, and you wondered if he would take your son away.

Finally Batman sighed, and he pulled down his mask, revealing the face of the billionaire Bruce Wayne. You wanted to be shocked that you knew who Batman was, but right now you could only focus on the child in your arms. You stared at Bruce Wayne, and pleaded with your eyes, you couldn’t let your boy go.

“We’ll figure this out Damian.” Bruce Wayne finally whispered. “I won’t take her away from you.”

[thepurplebutterflythings]

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird (Part 4) - Jason Todd

Gif: Dxnninja on Tenor

Word Count: 3.5K

Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader

Summary: Police Commissioner Jim Gordon meets Y/N and sees the blatantly obvious reason as to why Bruce finds Y/N familiar, although Bruce still doesn’t notice it. Y/N goes and visits her Auntie Harley and Auntie Ivy to ask them what they know about her father. 

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterizations.

Tagging: @bella-0104-123 @ninergirl1d @httpfandxms @rosybrock @attackonnat @reclusive-chicken-nugget   @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @young-psychos @thesleepykaijuu @thescottpack @nightlygiggles @rougestorms @sinon36

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird Part 3 | Masterlist | Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird Part 5

________________________________________________________________

Y/N didn’t know how the conversation started between herself, Bruce and Jason, but they were talking about vigilantes.

“I think people like Batman and Robin are needed,” Y/N said as they chatted on, “My mum grew up in the city before they existed and tells me stories about it, people like Fish Mooney and Jerome Valaska, and it sounds like a chaotic nightmare. With Batman and Robin around… there’s more order in the city.”

“Yes, I remember the city before,” Bruce nodded along as Jason wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and kissed her temple. They found no need to hide their budding relationship, it didn’t affect her internship and Bruce respected personal boundaries. “It has certainly changed.”

“And they’ve inspired others to make a difference and fight crime,” Y/N added on.

“Lynx is my favourite,” Jason said, “She’s a total badass!”

“Lynx…” Bruce frowned.

“Don’t you like Lynx?” Y/N asked curiously, wanting to know what Bruce, Batman, had against Lynx. Maybe it could help her improve.

“Well, there is great potential there, no doubt,” Bruce nodded, “but I keep a vault at the Gotham city Vaults and heard from a guard of Catwoman, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy breaking in and nearly being captured by Batman and Robin only for Lynx to help the three escape,” Bruce almost tutted, “if it’s true, then I’d say that Lynx is unpredictable, and can you rely on someone unpredictable?”

Y/N pulled away from Jason and walked towards Bruce’s shelves to study what was on there, hoping to change the topic. They didn’t understand. They wouldn’t understand. Her eyes were drawn to a broken object. It was a broken snow globe, white base and no glass, and therefore no water or snow, but the scenery inside was still intact. A snowy hill with trees and a house. Y/N frowned as she looked at it, fingers itching to touch it and trace the little path through the trees leading to the house.

“Where’d you get this?” Y/N asked, turning to look at Bruce, who remained at his desk, eyeing the article of his past. Jason stood by Y/N and looked at the snow globe too, as though he had just noticed it.

“I bought it as a gift for… someone, a girl, when I was a young boy,” Bruce explained as he finally approached the two at his shelves. He took the snow globe and handed it to Y/N, who lifted it up close to study, smiling at the pretty scenery, imagining how it would look with falling snow. Bruce watched her closely; there was something about the glimmer in her eye and the smile on her face when looking at the broken artefact that stuck him – she was so familiar to him somehow, why?

“Didn’t she like it?” Y/N asked, lowering the snow globe.

“I’m not sure,” Bruce said, “we had an argument when I tried giving it to her and she dropped it, then left.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said handing the globe back. Bruce took it and gave a small smile.

“She was a very stubborn person,” Bruce almost chuckled.

“You and this girl,” Jason said, “were you… together?”

“Not at the time, never officially,” Bruce explained, “but… we liked each other… and in another life…” there was a sadness to his voice as he thought about the girl.

The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the open office door. The three turned to see an older man standing there in a neat suit, crinkles around his eyes and mouth as he smiled at Bruce, who chuckled and greeted the man with a firm handshake.

“Bruce Wayne, it’s good to see you,” the man said.

“Likewise, Commissioner.”

“Come on, after all we’ve been through, call be Jim,” The Commissioner said as he walked in and saw Jason and Y/N. He held his hand out to them, “Jim Gordon, Police Commissioner.”

“Jason Todd,” Jason said, shaking his hand.

Jim then turned and looked at Y/N, blinking in shock, his mouth open as he stared at her. Jim knew that smile, a permanent playfulness etched onto a face with a mischievousness that was hard to hide, and looking at Y/N’s eyes, Jim saw something else. It was so clear and so obvious to an outsider, but something Bruce couldn’t see himself, the reason as to why Y/N seemed so familiar, and not only that but something else, something hidden, something which Y/N didn’t know herself. It was all there in her eyes. Y/N just smiled and chuckled, taking his hand, clueless to his reaction.

“Y/N,” she said, “I’m the new Wayne Enterprises Intern.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Jim said, slowly shaking her hand and staring at her face.

“Well, we’re going to lunch now,” Jason said, “see you later, Bruce, and nice meeting you Commissioner Gordon.”

“And nice meeting the pair of you,” Jim said as he watched Y/N leave the room with Jason. When they left Jim turned to Bruce with a stunned expression.

“Does Y/N remind you of anyone?” Bruce asked gesturing after the girl.

“Yes,” Jim said.

“Me too, but I can’t figure out who.”

“Really?” Jim blinked. Was Bruce Wayne so oblivious that he couldn’t recognise that Y/N was the daughter of Selina Kyle? And was Bruce Wayne so oblivious that he couldn’t see that Y/N had his eyes?

Apparently, he was.

________________________________________________________________

“Tell me,” Alfred said to Y/N as she and Jason sat in the kitchen. Bruce was still at the office. “Is it just you and your mother?”

“Yep, just me and my mum.”

“Where’s your father?” Alfred asked curiously. Even Jason turned to look at Y/N then. After all their time together, Y/N had never mentioned her father.

“He died,” Y/N sighed, “before I was born.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Alfred said, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “How did it happen?”

“There was a shoot-out at one of Penguin’s places, my parents were there and Dad made sure Mum was safe,” Y/N paused, “Mum had just told Dad that she was pregnant.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Alfred sighed, “I am truly sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Y/N shrugged it off. She hated the pity people gave her when they heard her mother’s tragedy. Her father died protecting Selina and her unborn child, that’s what should be remembered, not that Y/N grew up without a father.

“Well, Y/N,” Alfred said, “your mother did an absolutely remarkable job in raising you, you are an incredible young woman and I have no doubt that your father, if he were here, would be incredibly proud of you,” he smiled at Y/N.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Y/N smiled faintly, “that means a lot to me.”

“What was his name?” Alfred asked. Y/N stopped smiling, it fell from her face as she thought. What was her father’s name? Y/N frowned as she thought. Surely her mother must have mentioned it once, at least a nickname, but as Y/N thought she realised that Selina hadn’t. Who was her father?

________________________________________________________________

“AUNTIE HARLEY? AUNTIE IVY?” Y/N called through the lobby of Harley and Ivy’s house. Her voice echoed around the room before she heard the sound of paws hitting the ground. Bud and Lou, Harley’s Hyenas, plodded up to her and nudged her legs for Y/N to fuss them, which she did with a chuckle, scratching Bud behind the ear and Lou under the chin. “Hey babies,” Y/N cooed at the animals.

“Y/N?”

“Auntie Ivy,” Y/N sighed as she walked up to her aunt and hugged her, “where’s Harley?” She asked, looking around her.

“I’ve learnt not to ask,” Ivy chuckled while speaking into Y/N’s ear and wrapping an arm around her, “it only leads to me worrying. Now,” Ivy said, “what brings my lovely niece round?”

“I, erm, I wanted to talk,” Y/N said as Ivy sat her down and grabbed a bowl of strawberries which were already out and sat it between them.

“About anything in particular?” Ivy asked as she sat down and looked at Y/N.

“What’d you know of my father?” Y/N asked. Ivy blinked and straightened up at the question.

“Hasn’t your mother told you all she knows?”

“No, mum doesn’t like talking about dad,” Y/N confessed, “she always gets upset about it.”

“What’s brought this on? Wanting to know about your father?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugged, “I guess I feel like there’s a part of me missing cause I don’t know my past, my whole past. I know mum, but I don’t know dad. And, honestly, something seems off about Mum’s story about Dad

“Well, honestly, sprout,” Ivy sighed “Harley and I know nothing about your father, and honestly, we couldn’t even tell you if what your mother says is the truth.” Ivy waved a hand, “Penguin has gained many enemies over the years and an attack seems likely, and many died in crossfires in Gotham, but I don’t know why on earth Selina would step into Penguin’s place, especially when pregnant and with the man she loves. But I and Harley have always accepted it as the truth. Why would we question it?” Ivy explained, “Although now you mention it there is a lot to question about Selina’s story. Remember sprout, your mother is in a dangerous lifestyle and she often keeps things private for protection, not of herself but of you. You’re her daughter, she would do anything for you.”

“I know,” Y/N nodded, “I just want to know who he was, where I came from… if there’s any family on his side. I feel like I’m missing part of myself.”

“I get that, sprout,” Ivy stroked Y/N’s hair, “I do. If I knew anything I’d tell you,” Ivy promised, “but I don’t, and neither does Harley. This is Selina Kyle we’re speaking of, even her secrets have secrets.”

“But, Auntie Ivy,” Y/N hesitated, “if mum is lying and my father didn’t die in a crossfire at Penguin’s, then what did happen?”

“I don’t know…” Ivy whispered, “your mother keeps many secrets, and your father seems to be her best-kept one, but I doubt your mother would cut your father from your life, she knows what it’s like growing up without parents. I think she must be telling the truth, and if not, then… well… I hate to say it, sprout, and then perhaps your father died another way, something less heroic than protecting the mother of his unborn child. I hope you don’t get upset by that…”

“No, no,” Y/N shook her head, “I get it… There are no heroes in Gotham.”

“Not in the big sense,” Ivy said, “but there are small heroes every now and then, and perhaps your father was genuinely one of those. He did the brave thing and sacrificed himself so your mother could have you and give you the best life possible, and maybe that’s why it hurts your mother so to talk about him.”

“Thank you, Auntie Ivy.”

“Now come on,” Ivy stood up and pulled Y/N to her feet, “I’m going to need help watering the plants and feeding Bud and Lou, and I think you are the perfect little helper!” Ivy tapped the end of Y/N’s nose with her finger, “come along, sprout.”

“Hun, where are you?” Harley cooed as she walked around the house, Bud and Lou trailing after her, coming to see Ivy and Y/N. “Aww, Y/N,” Harley squealed, running and hugging her niece closely, “it’s so good to see you! What brings ya by?”

“Oh,” Ivy sighed, “Y/N was just asking if we knew anything about her father.”

“Ya Daddy? Nah, nothing,” Harley shook her head, “nada. Wish I did, babes, sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Y/N said with a sad smile, “I get it, mum’s private.”

“Babes,” Harley sighed, cupping Y/N’s face, “Selina keeps things private for a reason, to keep you safe, and that’s probably why she ain’t told us anything, cause we’d tell ya. I can’t blame her really.”

“Me neither,” said Ivy, “we aren’t parents, so we don’t know what would be the right thing to do.”

Harley nodded “Exactly, but know one thing, babes, me and Ivy will always be here for ya.”

“We helped Selina raise you from a seedling,” Ivy stroked Y/n’s hair, “we see you as our own in a way.”

“Thank you, Aunties.”

_______________________________________________________________

When Y/N got home she opened the door to her home to see her mother standing in the living room with large eyes and opposite her was Jim Gordon. They were clearly having a private conversation as they stopped when Y/N walked in. Y/N frowned at the sight but walked in, dropping her bag.

“Commissioner Gordon, what a surprise!” Y/N said wearily, “what brings you by?”

“Well, I knew Selina when she was a kid,” Jim said, “and please, just Jim will do, Y/N.”

“Really?” Y/N stepped forward and folded her arms, “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, Selina has always been a private person,” Jim smiled at Selina who smiled tightly. Y/N noticed this and watched her mother. Had Jim said something which upset her mother? Was he planning to arrest her or something?

“What were you talking about?” Y/N asked, eyeing Jim up and down.

“Just catching up,” Selina assured Y/N with a smile.

“Mmm,” Y/N nodded, “how’d you meet?”

Jim and Selina sighed and met each other’s gaze.

“Actually, I cannot say the details,” Jim admitted, “but it was through a case – a murder. Your mother was a possible witness.”

“Really?” Y/N frowned and looked at her mother who awkwardly looked down.

“It’s not something I like to talk about,” Selina said, “I was a kid on the streets, things like that happened more than I care to admit.”

“Oh, mum…”

“Anyway, it was good to see you, Selina,” Jim said, “and think about what I said, please, you know he’d like to.”

“I made that decision a long time ago, Gordon,” Selina told the man, “and I don’t plan on changing my mind anytime soon. Anyway, it’s too late to now anyway.”

“It doesn’t mean he wouldn’t find out eventually,” Jim pointed out. Y/N just frowned, not knowing what they were speaking about. “Anyway, I should go. My wife and kids await.”

“Goodbye, Jim,” Selina said, leading the man to the door, “it was good to see you.”

“You too, Selina,” Jim said, stopping in the doorway and looking at the woman, “I’m glad to see you’ve gotten yourself on your feet, and to see you have such a lovely daughter. I’m proud of you, Cat.”

“Thank you, Jim,” Selina smiled as Jim left, closing the door behind him. Selina turned and faced Y/N, who frowned at her mother.

“What the hell was that about?”

“It’s something from a long time ago,” Selina waved it off with a sigh, “I was young, a different person. You weren’t born.”

“Was it about that case? The one you witnessed?”

“In a sense,” Selina sat down, “it was about a relative of the victims. But I was involved in a few cases, it could’ve been about any of them.”

“Like what?”

“There were two people who abducted street kids,” Selina said, “Jerome Valaska, which I think I’ve told you about.”

“Yes,” Y/N nodded with a shudder. “I remember finding that YouTube video of his attack on the Gotham Police Station when I was nine. I had nightmares for months.”

“And that’s why I put blocks on certain things online,” Selina said sitting down, “I remember you waking up and screaming in the middle of the night. It traumatized you. And I hope the sick freak who put it online gets hit by a car. Karma! Then there was Barbra Keen, lord knows what happened to her. She sort of dropped off the earth around a few years back, but I’ve heard she’s in Central City now anyway. Look, what I’m saying is there is a lot of horrible things in the past, and that’s why I haven’t told you about what I’ve witnessed or all of what I’ve been through. It’s horrible, Kitten.”

“Okay Mum,” Y/N nodded as she sat next to Selina and snuggled into her mother’s side like she did as a child. She rested her head on her mother’s chest and wrapped an arm around her mother’s middle. Selina sighed and leaned back in the sofa, wrapping her daughter in her arms and kissing the top of her head. Y/N inhaled deeply and the scent of her mother’s perfume provided comfort to her - Vivienne Westwood Boudoir. Classy and Selina Kyle.

“How was it round Ivy and Harley’s?” Selina said quietly into her daughter’s hair.

“Nice,” Y/N yawned as she suddenly felt tired. It was amazing that, regardless of how old Y/N was, all Selina had to do to get her baby girl to sleep was wrap her up in her arms and talk in a soothing voice.

“Close your eyes, Baby,” Selina cooed, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Okay, Mama.”

________________________________________________________________

Selina and Jim didn’t talk about Selina being a witness to a crime as a child, no, they spoke about what Jim knew, and when Selina confirmed it, Jim knew he had to talk with Alfred. He called the old friend and asked him to meet in a bar.

“Commissioner Gordon,” Alfred nodded as he took the seat in the booth opposite Jim, “What is this about? And why did you wish to meet here and not at Wayne Manor? You know Bruce will always be pleased to see you.”

“This is about Bruce, in a sense at least,” Jim explained, “and it isn’t my place to tell him what this is about.”

“Is it my place?”

“No,” Jim shook his head, “this is Selina Kyle’s place to tell Bruce.”

“Selina Kyle?” Alfred frowned, “what is this about, Jim? What does Selina Kyle know?”

Jim sighed and shook his head “It’s not what she knows, Alfred, it’s about what she’s hidden…”

“Jim, just tell me.”

“That Jason’s girlfriend,” Jim said quietly, “what’d you know about her?”

“Not much,” Alfred shrugged, “Jason’s Lab partner, raised by a single mother, an only child, and her father was killed at Penguin’s in a crossfire, why?”

“Her father isn’t dead, Alfred, her father is alive and well.”

“You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, Commissioner, are you?”

“Bruce Wayne is her father.”

“And what does Selina Kyle have to do with this?”

“Don’t you know Y/N’s surname?” Jim blinked.

“No.”

“Her name is Y/N Calabrese Kyle,” Jim explained, “And she’s the daughter of Selina Kyle.”

“Selina and Bruce?” Alfred mumbled, “I suppose I’ve always suspected on some level that the two of them had feelings for one another, but I never thought that they’d act on them.”

“Oh, they acted on them alright.”

“How’d you know?” Alfred asked, “Who she was?”

“I saw it in her the moment we met in Bruce’s office,” Jim explained, “after that all I did was look at Hospital record to see that Selina Kyle gave birth to a baby girl nearly 20 years ago, which made sense because there was a yearlong hiatus in her actions as Catwoman. On the birth certificate, Bruce is listed as the father, but I suspected Bruce was the father automatically, and not because of the history between Selina and Bruce, but because of her eyes. Look at Y/N’s eyes, Alfred, she’s a Wayne, then I went to see her and ask if it was true.”

“And she confirmed this?”

“Yes,” Jim nodded, “Y/N is Bruce’s child.”

“Do you know what this means?” Alfred muttered, “After Bruce passes, God forbid, then lawyers will look to see the next Wayne Heir. They will track her down, does Selina know this?”

“Yes, she does, but doesn’t want her daughter to know this.”

“Why not? Bruce would be more than happy to provide for this child and Y/N is an admirable young woman, Bruce has met her and said so himself.”

“Selina is Selina,” Jim sighed, “remember Bruce left the city for ten years, and Selina was hurt, beyond hurt.”

“So she’s keeping Bruce in the dark about his child because of petty anger?”

“No, she’s doing this because she’s scared Bruce will leave again, and this time Selina isn’t the only one who’d get hurt. Y/N would too.”

“Oh…” Alfred sighed and sat back. Course. It made sense when he thought about it. Alfred remembered the pain in Selina’s eyes when she saw Bruce had left, and he could understand why she wouldn’t want her baby to experience that same pain. Bruce was unpredictable, but he kept his promise of never leaving the city again, but how could Selina be sure? She thought he’d never leave her the first time, but he did.

“I suppose their reunion was more than they expected though,” Jim pointed out. Bruce returned to the city over twenty years ago now, and Y/N was nineteen, that meant that one of the first times the two were reunited, they conceived Y/N. “Does she know that Bruce is her father?”

“No,” Alfred said, “she’s convinced her father died in Penguin’s in a crossfire, saving Selina, who was pregnant with her.” Alfred looked at his old friend, “did you try and convince her to tell Y/N? Or Bruce?”

“She said she made her mind up 19 years ago, and she’s sticking to it.”

“She was always stubborn.”

“But Alfred this isn’t our place to tell either Y/N or Bruce,” Jim said, “okay?”

“I understand,” Alfred nodded. He truly did.

[edyacouky]

DC Comics JayRoy Wedding (5/6)

Ok I still have one chapter then it will be complete.

I hope you will like this little story.

(Can be read on AO3)

                                                     ~*~

In six years, so many things change.

During a mission, Roy almost lost his left arm. He could not work as Arsenal for a long period of time. It forces him to rethink what he can do, who he can be.

Their family life, his relationship with Jason wasn’t always good because of that. At first, he was irascible and depressed. He wasn’t believe the re-education would be efficient and there were many time where his sobriety was threatened.

“Fuck Roy! Jason yells at him one night where Roy was particularly difficult. You never were only an archer! You’re smart; you can do anything you want! So stop being so stupid or I swear I take the kids and leave you behind!”

Roy feels like Jason slaps him. He knows that Jason was serious. Never he will stand have his children dealing with a parent always high on drugs and alcohol.

The next days, he stays at his workshop. He was avoided it after his accident because he didn’t think he could continue to work on his projects with only one arm. But his fears disappear. It was difficult but when it was reorganizing, he realizes he can still work. He realizes Jason was right. Roy is smart and can do anything he wants. He even patented some of his inventions, allowing his family to have more legal money back.

“Thank you. Roy said one night where they were in bed. For staying with me, even when I was an asshole.

-Roy, we deal with each other hassle for almost fourteen years. One more will not make me run away. And it was my plan all along that you become a rich inventor who can support me.

-Oh really? I should’ve known. Roy said before kiss Jason. You’re too good in sex for not being a trophy wife.

-You’re stupid! Jason laugh

-I’m your stupid. Fuck. I was your stupid for fourteen years. It doesn’t make us younger.

-Poor thing. Maybe you’re too old for sex. I should let you sleep.

-Don’t you dare.” Roy almost groans before kiss Jason

And sooner that they would like, Roy repay Jason in kind when they realize Jason read more on the lips that he really hear people. At almost thirty years old, Jason becomes deaf. Jason was uncomfortable with having to put his safety back on a small, easily breakable device.

“Don’t worry Jaybird. Roy tells him. I will make you the best ear protection that could exist.”

But he was also afraid that one day maybe, even with the best ear protection, he couldn’t hear his family’s voice, their laugh.

That fear was rude to endure and never leaves Jason despite reassurance of his family.

                                                    ~*~

Colin, even with missing some school years, success passes high school and at twenty-two years old he works as a mechanic in a good garage and sometimes helps Roy with his invention.

He knew that Roy and Jason will be happy to pay him for his studies in any university in any country. But he doesn’t like school, but he always loves car and bike. And the fact that he was something he could share with Jason was a most.

Damian tells Colin his decision was a waste of his capacity.

“You are doing studies for being veterinary. You’re not doing Harvard or Cambridge either. Colin said

-I already have master in different domain.

-Yeah but you do nothing with it.

-I use them as Robin.

-How? You slap Penguin with your certificate?

-Tt. Why do I bother talk with you?”

                                                    ~*~

Lian becomes officially a teenager. Jason and Roy cry a little when it happens. She takes after Roy his love for arrow and bow, and she was talented. Neither Roy nor Jason was happy that both of their children decide becoming vigilante. Colin was too old so they can do anything about that. And Lian becomes more stubborn. More than twice in the same week, they catch her follow them.

“I want to help! She yells at them

-You can help without risk your life!

-Then why didn’t you do it? Why did you come back at home covered by blood and injured if there are other ways?! I want help you!” She desperately wants to cries but she said nothing and keep follow them

                                                    ~*~

“Everyone! Hurry up! Jason yells. If we are late again, Alfred will be made at me!

-Don’t see how it is my problem. Lian answer while brushing his hair on the bathroom

-It will be if it makes me mad.

-That’s Daddy will be depriving of sex.

-And you little pumpkins you are depriving of sex till you are seventy years old. Roy said make her hurry up

-Finally! Jason exclaims when his family is ready to go. Up. Up.”

Another wedding was celebrating this year.

It was Tim and Kon’s wedding.

Despite Bruce’s insistence, the couple decide to refuse use the Wayne’s garden. Kon wanted have a ceremony outdoor but wasn’t comfortable have it at Gotham. And Tim’s family has enough money so they can go easily to another state. So all the guests have to go to Smallville.

The Batclan agree to travel together. And now, the Harper family was almost too late at the airport.

“I don’t understand why you have to take so many times this morning. Jason grumbles. We will have to dress at Smallville anyway.

-Looks sweetheart, Roy said, perfection needs time.

-Perfection for what? It is two a.m. and the wedding is tomorrow night.

-Alfie will be perfectly dress. Lian said

-Alfred can’t be badly dress. It is super power. Jason laugh

-Don’t worry Jaybird. Roy said. It is Bruce’s private jet. We won’t be too late.

-You know what? I will let you defend yourself from the other’s annoyance.”

The flight was long and exhausting, especially with the children who don’t seem able to rest well.

“Do you think my Father will be mad if I open one of plane’s doors? Damian ask when Jacob cries again

-I think everyone will be glad if the plane crash. Colin jokes. At least we could rest in peace.”

Helena starts a caprice upsetting Mar’i which makes Lian groans. None of adults’ techniques to calm them seems to works.

The relief they all express when the flight was over was indescribable. The worst for the parents was when they saw their children run everywhere around the Kent’s house.

“Are they ever tired? Jason sights when they all sit for coffee

-I take that the flight wasn’t going well. Tim said with a little smile he knew it was a good idea to leave sooner

-They won’t have sugar before bed. That’s for sure. Bruce groans and everyone agree

-Well don’t worry. There are enough camping tents so kids can be between them.”

And it was a good thing. Because the children keep talking even when they were supposed to sleep. The cicadas were quieter than them.

Tomorrow morning, they were tired eating breakfast, and the adults well rested. It doesn’t stay like that too long. The excitation for the wedding wakes them and nothing can stop them.

“Papa. Not like that my hair. Lian complains to Jason while Roy helps Colin with his tie. Like the photo.

-Lian, Jason said calmly. The woman on the photo doesn’t have same hair as yours.

-But I want same hair as her. Lian pouts

-You will be beautiful Pumpkins. Have faith on Jason. Roy said. You look good, Colin.

-Thanks.” Colin answers

He blushes a little, he have difficulty believe they give him a tailored tux. Years ago, never he would believe being so lucky.

“I am sure Damian will find you awesome. Lian grins after agree Jason change a little her hair dress so that it's better for her

-Who knows? Maybe the next wedding will be yours. Jason adds

-That’s not … Colin’s face was as red as his hair. Well when you and dad will get married?”

Jason just smiles and doesn’t even try to answer. Roy would like to say something but the true is Jason and him never really talk about getting married. They joke about that, think about the worst seating plan ever. But Roy doesn’t have even a little idea if Jason will say yes if he asks him the question.

Luckily, a knock on the door telling them that everyone is waited in twenty minutes stops the conversation.

“You’re beautiful, Honey. Jason said to Lian before kiss her cheek

-Thank Papa.”

When everyone was seated outside, without a cloud at sight, the music started. Clark brings Kon to the altar and Bruce brings Tim. At first the couple wanted walks to the altar together, but Clark and Bruce seemed so disappointed with their decision that they changed their minds.

“Too bad. Roy murmurs

-What? Jason asks

-No bouquet this time.”

Jason laughs, doesn’t expected this answer.

“What? Who did propose pay it for them so my legacy can go on?

-I did.

-Seriously?

-Seriously. But they said it was not worth it. I thought because they had already chosen their bouquets. Roy pouts

-You’re unbelievable Roy Harper.” Jason smiles before kiss him

Jason cannot believe it and he will not admit to Roy but, he was a little disappointed that there wasn’t bouquet to catch this time.

Each time Jason catch a bouquet, Roy’s smile was beautiful and full of promise. Even when Jason was at his worst, he was longing for this smile.

                                                    ~*~

The reception was so nice, everybody has so much fun. There was dancing, playing, singing. Enough food and drink to keep dancing, playing and singing.

The Kent doesn’t have close neighbors so they could be as loud as they wanted, no one with super power have to fear showed it, which was good for the kids.

And the sky was so beautiful. Full of star with the full moon. They almost not needed any flash light for coming back to their camping tent.

At four a.m. Roy and Jason walk to their tent. Or at least they try. In each other arms, they keep kissing without looking where they put their feet.

“You know what I was thinking? Roy asks Jason after they almost fall, again

-What I will do to you when we finally arrive to our tent?

-God yes. Roy whispers before kiss him fiercely. But no.

-No? Jason said confused by the mixed signal he received here

-In fact, I was thinking that we are together for fourteen years and there is a question that I never ask you.

-Roy. Jason warns him with a sight

-I am not proposing. I haven’t any ring. Roy said doesn’t understand Jason reaction. But we never talk about that. I don’t even know what you could answer me.

-And now it is the good moment to talk about that?

-I didn’t thought you will react that badly. Are you against marry me?”

Jason stay quiet, holding back tears and cannot look at Roy.

“Talk to me Jaybird. If it is no, I will not be mad.

-That’s not that simple.

-Explain then.”

Jason took a deep breathing then takes Roy’s hand to walk again. Roy let him take his time and finally Jason said:

“I am legally dead Roy. I can’t marry you.

-That’s it or it is an excuse because you worried tell me no. Roy asks because it is something Jason still do, do and say thing event if he didn’t want fearing the rejection

-I trust you Roy. If it was no I would tell you. Promise.

-So, if it is just that the problem, we could make you a new identity. Then we could marry and you could even adopt our children.

-That’s not that simple.

-How so? I don’t understand.

-It would be me that will marry you. You will not answer yes to “Do you want to marry Jason Peter Todd?” and I just … That’s stupid …

-Hey! If it is important for you, it is not stupid. We could use your real name for the fake identity. There are lots of homonyms in the world.

-That’s not the same. I … No one really expecting much to me, you know? I was some kid from Crime Alley. With a father dealer and a mother junkie. Even when Bruce took me in. Non one really believes I could do something with my life. Not Brucie’s friends, not my teachers, not the students. Not me. And they were right. I get myself killed, because of the Joker and my biological mom. Did you know statistically what kill kids from Crime Alley? Their parents then Gotham villains. I was in another country but I didn’t escape the statistic.

-Jason…You’re alive.

-I know. I know. And I am happy. With you, with the children. I don’t think it was a mistake I came back to life anymore but … I died. That true. I died. I didn’t prove wrong to people who doubt me. In fact I prove that they were right. I am still legally dead. Every time anyone thought of Jason Todd they think “Oh this Crime Alley kid that died.”

-You are not only that, Jaybird. You are a good son…

-I know.

-A good father…

-I know.

-A good boyfriend…

-I know.

-A good brother…

-I know, Roy! I know. But it doesn’t change that I wanted, I want to prove that I, Jason Peter Todd, can be better than what everyone think of me. I want to marry you, I want adopt our children but as me, Jason Peter Todd, son of Willis Todd, Catherine Johnson, Sheila Haywood and Bruce Wayne.

-Waouh. You collect parent as much as Bruce collect kids.”

Jason slaps his arm, but smiles a little.

“Don’t make me laugh. I am serious here.

-I know, Jaybird. I understand what you mean. Look, maybe we can make your resurrection official.

-It has been what sixteen, eighteen years that I came back to life. Which explanation can we find? It is too late Roy.

-Jason …

-Please…

-If … Would you want marry me if we can?

-Of course.

-Adopt our children?

-More than I want marry you.

-Ouch! But understandable. They are perfect.”

They look at each other a long time without another word say. Tenderly, Roy hugs Jason, kissing his temple, his cheek, his nose, and his lips.

“I want to but I am legally dead, Roy. Nothing can change that” Jason said sadly with finality

In eighteen years, so many things stay the same.

Roy didn’t insist. It was late, they were tired and they could always talk about that later. For now, all they want was enjoy their tent under the stars.

                                                    ~*~

What they didn’t know is that a little robin hears them.