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battymommastuff · 10 months

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The Loop [Save it for Later]

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: Why is this happening? Why won't it stop?

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

TW: DARK THEMES AND DEATH

It was sitting right there. That object, the cause of all of this. It was right there, but why couldn't they get to it. They could all see if from the corner of their eyes, but something kept them from getting close to it. "We were all touching it the first time. The first loop, we all touched it." Stephanie said as she glanced at it.

It looked like a creepy item you would find in a fortune teller's shop. A hand holding up a crystal ball. It didn't seem too threatening when they took it from the league, but now they wished they hadn't. "What about Constantine? Before we all passed out, he was talking to...it." Jason said then shivered. That voice was bone chilling. It was nothing like they've heard before.

"The only way we will know is if we summon him again." Damian said and went to get the paint that was in the same spot as it was the previous day. As usual, you were oblivious to what was happening in the Batcave.

After they quickly drew the symbol, John wasn't far behind. Instead of his previous attire, he was wearing nothing but his underwear and bunny slippers. "Now what the hell is this? You couldn't wait for me to put on my coat?" John asked as he tapped his foot. Each tap caused the slipper to make a little squeak.

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After briefing John on what's happening, Bruce led him over to the computer where they watched you move around the kitchen for what felt like the millionth time, "So she has no clue at all. She's the only one besides Alfred who is unaware of this loop?" John asked as he tightened the robe that he was given.

"She figured it out the third time, but it didn't help." Bruce said and painfully relived the nightmare of watching his plane explode with his wife inside of it. He didn't think he would ever be able to get over this.

Unlike the Batfamily, John was able to look directly at the object. He knew what it was, and he knew what was real and what wasn't. He's seen this kind of object before. In Hell, "Well what you have here is a demon, mate." He explained, and walked over to the object, "This bastard is trying to kill you by making you relive your most terrible fear. It seems you all share the same fear." He said with a small smirk.

"How is making us witness Ummi's death going to kill us?" Damian asked while crossing his arms. This should have been impossible to believe, but after everything they've been through...it was quite easy to believe.

"That's the fun part, you should all be dead by now. After seeing her get killed the first time, you would have slowly lost your minds and..." John ran his finger across his throat then winced, "Someone else is making you relive this day over and over." John knew it was possibly him doing. He just didn't know how.

"Tell me more about this music box."

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Upstairs, you were humming softly while setting up the dining table. As you set the plate of pancakes down, you let out a soft scream when you saw your hands covered in blood. Then you felt sharp pains in your chest. As if you were being stabbed.

"Ummi?" You turned around quickly thinking Damian was behind you, but you saw nothing but a wall. What the hell was that? You looked back down to your hands and saw nothing. You slowly backed away from the table and hugged yourself. That felt too real. You could feel the wetness of the blood, and how warm it was. You heard Damian's voice as if he was right behind you. He had to have been...

Then a sickening laugh echoed through your head, and you felt your entire body tense up.

"Mrs. Wayne? Are you alright? You are as pale as a ghost." Alfred said as he walked into the dining room to join the family for breakfast. He made his way over to your side, and rested a hand on your back in case you lost your footing, "Would you like me to fetch Master Wayne?" He asked, growing more and more worried for you.

"N-No. I'm fine. I guess all the cooking made me feel a little warm." You said and gave him a small smile. Alfred looked at you unsure, but helped you sit down in your seat at the dining table, "Give me a minute, I'll be alright." You mumbled and let Alfred pour you a glass of water. Alfred wasn't paying attention or he would have seen your head drop for a moment before you sat up...oddly straight.

"I'm going to get Bruce, and the children." You said and stood up. It felt like something was guiding you to the Batcave.

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"My darlings, it's time for breakfast."

John was the first to make eye contact with you, and he could tell something was off. Your posture was too...perfect, and the smile on your face wasn't a normal smile, "No one leaves this cave." He said and held his arms out to stop anyone from getting close to you, "They're not hungry love. Why don't you pack it up for later?" He said, and watched your smile drop.

"It's time for breakfast, they need to eat. You need to leave." You said and stepped closer to the group. John kept himself between you and your family, "Leave John, there's nothing for you here." John chuckled and his hands started to glow softly.

"Why don't you let Mrs. Wayne go, and show us your ugly face? Or are you too afraid? They know what they have to do to stop you. I know I'm the one keeping them in this loop. It must piss you off." John could see your face contort into one of anger.

"They'll never get the chance!" Your body then dropped...and you were dead. No stab wounds, or bullet holes. No signs of heart attack. You were just gone.

"Listen, you have to destroy the crystal. That demon will take her body again, and the next loop, she'll stop you from getting to that ball." John said and made his way over to a table where the music box had suddenly appeared, "Whatever you do, don't let her stop you. Stop this madness." John said as he started winding up the music box. He watched each Batfamily member drop to the ground.

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"Again, you lost them again?"

"This time was intentional. It's pissed."

"Duke, make sure we're ready to handle any medical emergencies."

"On it."

"Once more. Once more..."

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teddyniffler · 22 days

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Mercy in Defeat

Chapter 9

“With the issue solved on East Anglia’s naval defenses against the Northmen, I hereby call this Witan closed. I do believe this year, Wessex and England as a whole will be much safer with added protection and defenses should any Northman dare visit these shores in spring. The Northmen will find themselves defeated in the water before they even catch glimpse of this fair land. Lastly, I wish to announce some joyous news before you all, my Lords and churchmen, it brings me great joy to announce Hvitserk, the son of Ragnar Lothbrok, has agreed to join our faith and leave behind his Pagan ways”

Hvitserk listened to Alfred’s words, as normal he was trying not to look at anybody, he was never comfortable standing by Alfred’s throne, in front of many pairs of eyes all watching him, judging him. When Alfred mentioned him, the crowd all started talking but this time they sounded happy, a few of them broke into applause.

“I will be welcoming Hvitserk into my family, as a member of the royal household” Alfred announced, which resulted in many mutterings from the nobles. Alfred spoke over them. “He will hold the title of a Saxon Prince, along with a new Saxon name. I bring him into my family warmly and as such I expect everybody to do the same too, and to show the new Prince the respect you would have shown me when I was still a prince, and my father before me. The baptism shall happen at Easter in the royal chapel, until that time, please still address him as Hvitserk.”

Alfred stood up from this throne, Hvitserk watched him from the corner of his eye, he seen Alfred was walking away from his throne so turned and followed the king out, it always threw him how the king would just leave after a Witan, back home any meeting with his parents ended with his parents still in the room, just not paying any attention anymore. They could still hear muttering coming from the court, Alfred had certainly given his people something to talk about.

“That went well” Hvitserk said uneasy, the voices behind them faded.

“They are never happy, no matter what is said, if it wasn’t you they were gossiping about, it would have been taxes or mandates for soldiers” Alfred reassured Hvitserk.

It had only been a week since Hvitserk told Alfred his choice, but much had happened since then, for Hvitserk anyway.

He had started to feel the emptiness where once was his connection to the gods, it was as if they had left him and wished to make their absence known to him, but also the nightmares had ended, as if the Christ god had stopped trying to punish Hvitserk now he knew he had won. Part of Hvitserk’s mind, the part he didn’t want to explore wondered if the nightmares had been from his own gods, it felt too similar to the madness, lifted too sudden. Either way, he was happy they were gone, he didn’t like seeing his dead loved ones walking away from him, tired of waking up in a state of terror or grief.

They came to a new room, one Hvitserk knew well as he had raided the place once with his brothers, the first time he had came back here just a few days ago, Alfred had shown him around. There was a look of intense enthusiasm as Alfred walked Hvitserk around the room, showing him the ancient Roman scrolls that were in Latin. There were two identical marble busts of the same man, Alfred had explained it was Caesar to him, before telling Hvitserk all about him. Hvitserk stood listening, he knew a little who Caesar was from Bishop Heahmund, but he didn’t want to tell Alfred that when Alfred looked so happy to tell him personally.

“- Then at the Theater of Pompey, he was–“

“ –stabbed to death – “ Hvitserk finished.

Alfred’s mouth opened a little “Yes, you knew already?”

“I heard something about him once” Hvitserk half lied.

“Yes, he was ambushed and stabbed twenty-three times. I respected Caesar all my life, he was a fine Roman, a good leader, I respected both his good and poor choices and tried to learn from them, but since my own brother tried to have me assassinated, I look upon his story with true horror that I had not previously apricated”

Something then happened to make things awkward for Hvitserk, Alfred mentioned the missing scrolls that should have been here but were destroyed in the raid from the Great Heathen Army. He looked at the empty spaces with so much sadness and loss, Hvitserk vowed never to confess to being the one who burned those scrolls, remembering the way he had leaped around in joy at burning them.

Now, they sat at the long table and Alfred got to work introducing Hvitserk to his religion, all the important people and places, all the stories. He explained the older books and the newer books, how another religion followed the earlier books, but how Christians follow the second mostly. He learned about Jewish people, Romans and their pagan gods which he already knew a bit about and about the Greeks who came before them, he learned about Alfred’s God. He learned about beings called Angels and their fallen brothers who were devils. Hvitserk guessed not even Floki could make up stories like these, it was almost too farfetched to be true, but he reminded himself, so was his religion. He tried to compare what Christians must think of Jormungandr to what his thoughts were of a magical baby who offered eternal life, he even found a talking donkey in one book, Alfred didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with that. There were pictures in the books from saints, holy people and certain events, and Alfred explained how the monks would illuminate them with precious paints. Hvitserk read them all, book after book, scroll after scroll. Still he couldn’t help but notice certain things were almost an exact copy of a pagan celebration and that puzzled him greatly. Alfred explained things as he seen them, often giving Hvitserk his own thoughts which he knew the king would never speak out loud if they were in company of others.

Reading in English was just as tiring as speaking it all of the time, he looked at words and forgot what they meant, often he had to ask Alfred to read a line or explain it clearer to him. Day after day, he studied over these books, he was given plenty of time to relax too, any free time he spent in his room or playing chess with Alfred.

The snow had gone and the weather was slowly turning warmer, he took books to sit under the tree in the royal courtyard to read. He was tired of reading, he had never read so much in his life, he could feel his eye lids closing, when Alfred appeared over him.

“Hvitserk?” He asked, hiding a smile. His eyes snapped open and Hvitserk pretended to have been reading. It surprised Hvitserk at how fast the weeks had passed, it was now closer to Easter than it had been Christmas and the days were growing longer, the sky was often bright and blue and buds and leaves had started growing on the trees, spring time was here and Wessex looked very different to how it had in winter. It alarmed him too at the fact he had almost been here at the villa for an entire year, in just a few months it would be a full year since he last spoke to Ivar.

“How’s the reading?” Alfred asked, breaking Hvitserk from his drowsiness.

“Why did your grandfather think so much of Charlemagne if he killed so many Saxons, you are Saxons?” Hvitserk asked, lowering the very large volume of scrips before him that detailed just a small amount of Saxon history held at the villa.

“They were Pagan though, not Christian. In my grandfather’s eyes they were not the same, he witnessed a lot of the killing while he was in Charlemagne’s court. My ancestors left those areas a very long time ago, so again to my grandfather, they were very different.”

Alfred sat down next to Hvitserk, on the furs Hvitserk was sitting on and leaned on his side, they both watched as soldiers moved around, before leaving through the gate. Hvitserk watched them, he was allowed out into the other courtyard now, but not near the outer gate, he was still watched out there by the guards on the outer wall, but he had mostly freedom to come and go in the villa and the grounds now. Hvitserk placed the book down on the furs and glanced over at the king, it seemed Alfred had come to join him for a little while.

“Are you nervous about Sunday?” Alfred asked.

“No” Hvitserk lied as he too laid back, but on his back, looking up at the blue sky. In the far distance he could see the trees that lined the skyline behind the villa, the branches blowing slightly, in truth he was anxious. Very anxious. What would it be like to no longer be himself once the Christ god entered him, Alfred said it was just water and oil touching his skin and Hvitserk trusted him, but his dark imagination showed him being crushed under an invisible force, as everything that made him Hvitserk was burned away with oil and fire.

Was the Christ god like Odin? Visible to only those he wished to show himself too and when they did whatever they were going to do to him, would he suddenly see Alfred’s god? Hvitserk had once seen Odin when nobody else had, what if the Christ god attacked him when nobody else could see him. Hvitserk’s stomach clenched up, his eyebrows scrunching up slightly.

“Your clothing will be delivered to your room on Sunday morning, I will have a servant help you dress, then you’ll be taken to the royal chapel. Me and Elsewith will be there, as will the bishop. You remember what to say?”

Hvitserk nodded

“That I renounce my gods and my former life and then ask the Bishop for baptism” he replied, Alfred and him had gone through this plenty of times. Hvitserk’s anxiety rose even more.

Alfred tapped Hvitserk’s arm. Hvitserk looked over at him.

“You’ll be fine, try not to worry about it. It’s a joyous occasion, not something to fear.”

Hvitserk wasn’t so sure, compared to the ceremonies he was familiar with back home, this one felt intimidating, almost dangerous. He nodded and reminded himself nobody was going to kill him, this wasn’t a sacrifice, yet the person he was would be no more, Hvitserk Ragnarsson would cease to be, so perhaps it was a sacrifice. Alfred was still looking at him, so Hvitserk faked a smile; one he knew Alfred would see through for sure. He glanced down by his side at the accounts of 4,500 Saxons who were all killed because they didn’t want to convert to Alfred’s religion and felt a suffocating feeling in his throat.

On Saturday night, Hvitserk was alone in his room. He sat on his bed at the far end and turned his back to the crucifix on the wall, ever since he had agreed to leave his Pagan ways behind he had stopped covering it up with a shirt. Right now he felt if he looked at it, he would be sick. He thought for a second, then reached out to somebody he had known all his life.

‘Odin, Allfather. I only have tonight, then I will have no choice but to become a Christian. I am your descendent, is this really what you want for me? I know I haven’t always seen you and the other gods with friendly eyes since I felt so unfulfilled as a Viking, but I ask you now, as your descendent, to just give me a sign that this is the right path for me? Do you want me to join the Christians? Do you want me to flee and find a way back home? What do you want me to do?’

There was nothing.

No sign.

Not even the wind blew against the window.

He waited in silence, listening and waiting. Half hoping a sign would show itself, anything.

He was still sitting there an hour later and nothing had happened.

The silene alone was his answer.

He had been abandoned by his own people and his gods.

He laid back on his bed, his eyes glancing up at the cross, before he rolled over and pulled the furs over his face.

He would be joining the Christians tomorrow, this was his last night being Hvitserk, even his name was being stripped from him, he would no longer have a place in Valhalla, the doors were close to him, if they had ever been open in the first place.

‘It’s a good thing, it’s a good thing’ he kept telling himself. ‘I will have a happier life. I can have a family, they won’t ever have to kill for glory or fame. I can be happy.’

Yet why did he dread the sun rising?

“I’m sorry I won’t be joining you in Valhalla” He whispered, he was speaking to all of them, everybody he had lost. “Mother, Father, please forgive me, I only ever wanted your love. My brothers, I only ever wanted your approval but I made a miserable mess of things and I can’t ever redeem myself in your eyes. Margrethe, Thora, you brought some light to my life and made me smile. Amma, I never did thank you for caring for me at my lowest, it meant a lot to me, even if I couldn’t find the words at the time. I hope you all understand my reasons, I don’t want to die, you may think of me as cowardly but I want to live, so I have no choice but to join Alfred and his god.”

Whatever happened to him tomorrow, whatever they did to him, it couldn’t be worse than being walked out to a pyre in chains, knowing it would be set on fire with him upon it.

He was led down to the royal chapel, it was outside of the main villa, through a walkway he had never been before, then he noticed the tree as he came around the corner, this was below his chamber window, he guessed he had finally found the little courtyard he seen everyday from his window. He followed the man who was sent to bring him to the chapel, they walked more, Hvitserk noticed how cold the air was feeling today, or maybe it was just his own body being extra sensitive, he felt numb as they kept walking before coming to a small building. A door was open and he followed the man into a dark and cold entrance, it smelt weird, he could smell the building was very old, but there was also an odd smell and he noticed what looked like thin smoke blowing out of another room ahead. It was cold in here, as if the sun from outside didn’t reach it, he shivered yet his hands were sweating. There was a strange feeling as if he was being watched and Hvitserk was all too aware that he had walked right into the space of the Christian god, he was here in this place, a place Odin couldn’t save him from, he was totally now at this other god’s mercy. Odin wouldn’t save him anyway, they had all made it clear to Hvitserk they had used him and abandoned him. Hvitserk’s instincts screamed at him that this was a place he should have avoided at all costs, the church of the god who had defeated his own, but now this would be his religion from today. He fought the urge to look behind him, back in the sun, where he wanted to be and not in this building.

The next day came all too soon, Hvitserk was awake before the servant came to his room, he noticed it was the same one who had helped him dress months ago when Alfred took him to that first Witan, it felt like years ago. In his arms was another beautiful item of clothing, Hvitserk had gotten used to the finery the Saxons had, although it still surprised him at how rich England was compared to Kattegat and other places in Scandinavia. This one was pure white except for golden buttons, he noticed too how the fabric had a pattern that only showed up when the light hit it. As the servant pulled it over his head and started fastening all the small buttons to his neck, Hvitserk couldn’t help but notice another similarity between the Pagans and the Christians, back home, they wore white when carrying out ceremonies too, no matter if it were a sacrifice or a marriage.

“You will need to take this off” The servant said. “It’s a Pagan item”

He indicated the pendent around Hvitserk’s neck, the one he had worn for a very long time. So far the Saxons had allowed him to keep that, even when everything else was replaced for Saxon clothing. Hvitserk reached up and touched the pendent, then feeling detached from himself, he touched the cord and pulled it up over his head. He felt so bare without it, the place where it normally sat on his chest felt too light. The servant took it from his hands and placed it onto the bedside table.

“It may be for the best if you throw it away, it will just serve to tempt you back to Pagan ways.”

Hvitserk didn’t speak as the last button was tied just under his neck, the last few around his throat were left untied but the collar was raised to cover the space. It was all becoming too real now, he had found his mouth had gone very dry and his heartbeat was very noticeable. The clothing felt rather cold against his skin and really constricting, not at all like the lose clothing he wore back home, this garment was meant to cover him as much as possible, it honestly felt like wearing a long dress or night garment. He felt uneasy in these clothes. He was then left alone to wait, he went over to the table and picked up his pendent. Him and Ivar both had pendants, a gift from each other. This had always been with him, but now he had no choice but to leave it behind, just like his name, just like his entire identity.

There was a knock on his door and he put the pendent into the drawer out of site, he didn’t want to just throw it away but he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to keep this after today. The door opened, it was time for him to leave Hvitserk behind.

“Go ahead into the next room and kneel before the alter” The man said and Hvitserk took a breath and with shaky legs, he walked into the next room.

There was total silence as he walked in, the room was lit with many candles all burning around the room, with men on either side of the doors waving boxes on chains, the smoke was coming from them, Hvitserk could smell the smoke in his nose, it didn’t smell right to him. He also noticed the Christ god was on his cross in the room too, a very large version of him, watching on as he finally claimed Hvitserk for his own.

Alfred and Elsewith where there by one wall watching, Hvitserk felt comforted by their presence in the room, at least there was a friendly face. He reached the alter and got down onto his knees, trying to calm himself and his racing heart with another breath.

It was far too late to back out now.

The bishop stood before him and behind him was the alter, there was things on the alter. Hvitserk couldn’t help but notice them when he looked up, his eyes glanced over them quickly. There was silence for a second as the Bishop waited.

“I renounce the worship of Odin, Thor, Frey and Freya” Hvitserk said, his voice was quite but in such an open space it felt loud and echoey, and as he listed the names that had once felt familiar and warm to him, he now felt betrayal and hollowness. They had all played a role in killing his family, in bringing him here today. They had done this to him and in a way they had killed him too, Hvitserk wouldn’t be Hvitserk after this. To his surprise, as he listed the name of his gods, he felt himself feeling angry at them. “And all other false gods” he ended, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

He took another breath.

Memories of him in happier times sprung up in his mind, he was running through Kattegat after his brothers in his younger teenage years, they were dragging Ivar in his wagon which he had grown far too large for, the wheels fell off and they all, Ivar included, had laughed. Then he remembered during his sickness being so drunk he had vomited in his bed and chose to lie in his own stomach content anyway. He remembered crying when his father left and his mother offered him no comfort as she was busy with Ivar, so Bjorn held him until he had no more tears left in him. He could hear Sigurd’s music playing in the room as Hvitserk listened to him play. Thora’s smile as they sat together watching the sun go down. He remembered raiding, the things he did that made him so ashamed now, that once brought excitement to him. The pleas, the blood, the screams of fear. He remembered the feel of blood splattering on his face, the taste of it on his lips.

“I renounce my former life.”

He would never let himself be that person ever again. If letting go of himself meant that part of him would never hurt anybody ever again, then he welcomed it in his last moments.

“Father, I ask for baptism” He finished, sure he had remembered everything. He waited and the Bishop turned from him, he tried not to tremble as he felt every muscle in his body tensing up. He had seconds left until he wouldn’t be himself anymore, the Christian magic would take him.

He watched as the Bishop did something he couldn’t see from where he kneeled, he heard the soft noise of water and the Bishop turned around.

This was it, the end.

‘Goodbye’ he said in his head to his family.

The Bishop held up his hand to Hvitserk’s head. Hvitserk’s heart was beating so fast. Is this also what Ubbe faced? At least he had Torvi by his side. He wished Ubbe was with him now.

“I anoint you with the oil of sanctification” The Bishop said, his fingers touched Hvitserk’s forehead. Hvitserk’s eyes closed on instinct, he didn’t like this at all.

“In the name of the Father” He moved his fingers fast as he spoke, tracing a cross on Hvitserk’s forehead. Hvitserk opened his eyes again once it was done, so far nothing had happened, but he knew the ritual wasn’t over yet.

“And of the son” The Bishop then did the same movement on his chest, Hvitserk could feel him touching certain places of his chest. He tried to keep still, but he trembled slightly no matter how much he tried not too.

The Bishop moved around to his back, Hvitserk was already tensed up, but having somebody behind him, out of his line of vision, caused every part of his will power to remain as still as possible and not look behind to see what was going on.

“And of the Holy Spirit”

He felt light touches again on certain parts of his back this time, one touch went over one of his wounds and he was happy they didn’t itch him anymore when touched.

“From now on, you will be known as Athelstan, our brother in Christ.”

Something came into his mind then, he was breathing fast and shallow at the touches, his nerves on edge for something to start happening, and in his fear a vision sprung into his mind, one that he had never seen before, it was not from his own memories either.

He could see his father kneeling on the ground at the place he had buried Athelstan, his head was bowed as he placed Athelstan’s cross over his head, he ran his hands down the chain and looked up. His father had willingly chosen to wear that symbol of Athelstan’s god, of Alfred’s god. He remembered a far off rumour he had heard when he was still a boy, that his father had joined the Christian god during his first raid to Paris. His mother angerly had silenced those rumours, but they kept coming no matter what she did. Hvitserk even witnesses Lagatha and Bjorn muttered about it when they thought the room was empty, they hadn’t noticed Hvitserk hiding nearby. Why was he remembering this now? In that moment, it was like another presence was with Hvitserk, he could feel himself slowly calming down, some of his panic about this situation eased, he couldn’t explain it, but he just knew maybe someday he would see his father again at least, he also knew he wasn’t entirely alone, he knew his father was there with him, just out of sight.

“Amen” The Bishop said

“Amen” Hvitserk repeated a second later, that was the word the Christians used when they had finished their connections to their god. If anything was going to happen, it would be now. Hvitserk waited, however all he could feel was his fear slowly going away as the seconds went by, nothing was happening to him, the Bishop moved away from him and Hvitserk kept breathing slowly. Alfred moved forward and into the space where the Bishop had stood moments before. Hvitserk looked up at him, he tried to hide it but seeing him reassured Hvitserk more than anything else at the moment.

“Welcome to our Holy Church” Alfred beamed. The kind expression on his face was welcome to Hvitserk.

“You entered here as a Pagan, and you will leave here as a Christian Saxon Prince” The smile on Alfred’s face was enough to light the room. “As your Godfather, I've chosen a new name for you”

Hvitserk listened, he had been wondering what Alfred would pick for him, what new name would he get, he just hoped it wouldn’t be one of those really confusing Saxon names he would never remember.

Alfred paused, he had thought long and hard about the name he would give Hvitserk once he had joined them, but the idea for what name to choose had been really easy for him, and the reason behind that was currently standing by the doors to the Chapel, watching but unseen by everybody there but Alfred. This time he wasn’t alone, there was another man there with him, the other man’s light blue eyes fixed on the young man at Alfred’s feet. Athelstan looked at Alfred one last time before they both vanished, it would be many, many years until Alfred would see him again, because Alfred would no longer need his reassurance now, he had the son of Ragnar by his side. They would guide each other now.

Alfred looked down at Hvitserk, he was giving that big eyed look he did when unsure, Alfred knew that look so well by now. He smiled again to reassuring Hvitserk that it was all okay.

Athelstan…

What was left of Hvitserk’s fear left him as surprise took its place. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised at all. It was perhaps the most fitting name Alfred could give him, he had loved Athelstan from when he was a boy, going to him for extra food or to play whenever Athelstan was sitting in their halls. Athelstan, who was always by his father’s side, his smile and the way he would pretend to sword fight with him and Ubbe. He often heard Athelstan speaking his regret to Ragnar for not having any children when Ubbe and Hvitserk grew tired, not ever knowing he had one all along in a faraway country.

Athelstan was taken by his father by force, years before Hvitserk was even born, but he had become part of their family, their community. It was no different as to how Hvitserk had been taken in by the Christians, but in the end had joined their family too. Their stories were so alike, it could have only been Athelstan that was the choice of name.

For Alfred, it was the greatest honour he could give Hvitserk, to show him how much he had come to mean to Alfred, to name him after the man who had given life to him, but Alfred had never met, save only in fleeting visions and dreams. Athelstan meant something deeply to both of them, to both of their people.

Alfred smiled again, he turned from Hvitserk and dipped his hand into the gold tray, he turned back and gently also traced his fingers on Hvitserk’s forehead, but this time it tickled when Alfred done it, goosebumps erupted over him but because of the feeling from Alfred’s fingers rather than the cold in the room, Hvitserk felt a little silly, why had he been so scared for, had he really been considering death over this and spent the last week racked with anxiety for something so small. He could still think, he still had thoughts, feelings, even his memories. Hvitserk thought of this as Alfred went back to stand with Elsewith, they were both smiling at him.

He got to his feet, he had stopped shaking, the Bishop had started talking to the king about Easter service that afternoon so Hvitserk glanced around the room, it didn’t look so dark anymore now his eyes had gotten used to the dim light. It still felt cold in here and now his forehead felt slightly damn, he wondered if he was allowed to rub it dry or if that was not something he should do. He noticed then the sun did shine in the room, beams of sunlight were shinny through the windows, one of them hit his face as he moved. It was bright, brighter than what it should be, it totally blinded him for a second as he stepped into its ray, until he blinked and then it was normal sunlight again.

How strange to him, it was as if he was feeling lighter than he had in such a long time, all the guilt and regret he had been carrying with him had faded into the background of his mind, it was still there, but now thinking of everything he had been through wasn’t so painful, it no longer weighted him down, he had done terrible things, but he wouldn’t now, he wasn’t that person anymore and he could move on. Even the traumatic things that had happened to him before, they felt like they happened to somebody else now, he knew he would never be hurt here. The sun was still shining on him, it was warm and for a moment he just watched as flecks of dust dance in the air, illuminated by the sunlight, as if nothing else mattered to him. He would have his entire life to live, no more fighting unless he had to protect England, Alfred had reassured him it would be unlikely with the new defenses. He would one day maybe have a family, they wouldn’t have to kill to get to the afterlife, he would live in peace in England.

“Athelstan” Alfred called out to him, Hvitserk knew Alfred meant him, it would take some getting used to being called that.

He turned and walked over to Alfred, he had finished talking to the Bishop and now the king placed his arms around Hvitserk, and then, to Hvitserk’s surprise, so did Elsewith. How weird to be hugged by the queen just inches from Alfred.

“Welcome to our family, Prince Athelstan” she said, also smiling at him.

“I have something to give you” Alfred said to him “It’s a gift to commemorate today”

From his pocket, he took something out.

It was a silver cross, one embedded in gems. It was reflecting the candle light and the sun, causing it to shine. Alfred reached over and put it over Hvitserk’s head.

Hvitserk looked at it, it came to rest on his chest, where once he wore a Pagan pendent, now it had been replaced with Saxon jewellery, just as his hair and clothing before, the final piece in his gradual transformation.

#MIDAHFABL

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed.

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce.

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear?

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it.

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair.

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want?

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered.

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled.

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did.

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.”

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different.

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long.

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman.

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better.

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

—

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later.

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help.

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois.

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce.

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out.

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong.

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed.

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

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

Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours

#father of mine #father of mine part 2 #bruce wayne reader insert #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batman x daughter #batman x daughter!reader #batboys #batfam #bruce wayne angst #bruce wayne fic #batman fic #batman universe #batman family

2K notes · View notes

newbieineverything · 2 years

Text

Do I just want a fic that explores how Dick's life would be if he left the batfam after Jason's death and just is as involved with them as superman is, exactly how his life would have been if DC didn't decide he needed to return and be a Bat affiliated character again but also shows how the batfam is without him not just focusing on Dick?? Yes, yes I do

Hear me out

We have a Dick Grayson who:

Already wasn't close to Batman and Robin because he's no longer a Bat character but a Titan character.

Had his mother's name for him and his family colors given to a kid he never met before which is exactly like if Bruce gave Jason the Grayson name okay??? by the mentor who kicked him out before he was 18 because he was getting rebellious/was injured (which is greatly hypocritical from Bruce because Jason is younger than Dick at least adopt him without making him Robin)

Not told about said successor, but after meeting him gave him his number to bitch about Bruce when he needs to (which is great, this 19/20 year old dude saw a 13/14 year old in his place and was like he's gonna need someone to vent to who can get him I can give him that)

was never adopted because Bruce adopted him after he adopted Tim aka he's the third to be adopted in his late 20s just wow Bruce wow

Return from the Titans space mission to discover that his successor was murdered and that his mentor/father figure didn't inform him or even tell him about the funeral.

He grieves and forbids anyone who isn't legal from becoming a Titan which is understandable and a good move.

Goes to check on his mentor who in grief punches Dick, blames him for Jason's death and forbids him from entering Gotham.

Now from what little I know Dick did blame himself but the Titans got through to him and he began seeing a therapist and got over it(not sure about the therapist but sure that he did go over it).

From what I know about how Tim became Robin is that he noticed how Batman is doing and went to Dick to try and make him Robin again and then again to try and be Robin himself.

What should have happened:

Dick takes one look at that 13 year old and be like don't worry kid I got this and gets help from the league to yeet Bruce to therapy or bench him.

Look into the home life of the kid that apparently stalked vigilantes as a hobby, either warn his parents to take better care of the kid or try and alert authority.

What else would happen to Tim? Would Bruce or Alfred notice how Jason's grave would be disturbed now that Bruce can't Batman through this and Alfred isn't as busy trying to keep his charge from killing himself? What would happen to Steph, Cass, Duke, and Damian?

The Batfam wouldn't even be what it is in the comics without Dick Grayson and I want to see where people could see them without his influence on them. I want to see where Dick would be without their toxic influence on him, where he could live his life, be himself, not be pressured to uphold their expectations mainly Bruce, Tim, and Babs , be able to build a life not tainted by Gotham.

I'd also love to read fics where the Titans actually get through to Dick and he goes to therapy, realizes that his relationship with the Bats is toxic and slowly pull himself away from them while building a new life for himself somewhere away from all the Bats because while they would realize what he's doing they're emotionally constipated enough that they will wait for him to tell them without them doing anything which he won't

Well except Damian really because

He's still a kid

Dick is more of a parent to him that Bruce

Other than Dick there's only Alfred and Steph who probably see Damian as the kid he is and trust and love him because of the time those four spent together.

I think he would take him aside and actually tell him what he realized, his thought process and conclusion, his plan moving forward, offer to take Damian with him or would he prefer to only visit?

Idk I just want more fics and posts to explore this, more content with Dick living a better healthier life.

If this post is scattered it's bc my brain is so too, sorry!

#dick grayson deserves better #titans #og titans #dick grayson #batfam #batfamily #nightwing #dick & dami #dick & damian #dick & jason #damian wayne #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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Hi, I was reading your post about Jason punching Dick in the face when Dick revealed he fake his death was bullshit ( which it was) and it reminded me of an issue/question that has bothered me for sometime.

Why did people believe Dick was actually dead?

I’m not the most avid comic reader so maybe I missed something but it was always weird to me that everyone just accepted this especially given how Bruce was acting or should I say wasn’t acting.

This is a man when his child died another child had to come along and told him sir you are being too violent and emotional you need supervision. When his other child died he went all over the universe to bring him back to life because he knew it was possible ( which was happening at the same time), so why didn’t anyone think it was weird he wasn’t doing that for Dick. Can you imagine Dick really dying that soon after Damian it would be injustice Batman Version. You are telling me that Tim, Jason or Barbara didn’t think it was weird that Bruce didn’t also bring Dick’s corpse to the bring Damian back to life mission or mention it to themselves. Like what more likely Dick dead and Bruce is handling it well or that he fake his death to do something stupid and Dangerous after his partner/brother/ little bit my son the feelings are complicated died after he was knocked out and woke up to his corpse.

Oh man, this is like, the entire nature of my beef?

(Slight derail just to emphasize the fact real quick that Dick DID actually die, he was just revived quickly, but like, the trauma of his death was very real and its not like anyone was clued into Luthor having a resurrection backdoor built into his literal murder of Dick in the actual moment of it happening. So Dick’s death wasn’t fake, and additionally, he didn’t have anything to do with like, telling people about it, because he was literally comatose in the cave and recovering while Bruce was telling people....by the time Dick woke up in the cave, we already know that Alfred at least had already been convinced by Bruce that Dick was dead, so I have a kneejerk need to pushback against the Dick faked his death narrative by reminding people wherever possible that Dick had no agency in the spreading of that narrative.

It happened without him being involved, and the only actual contribution he ever made to it was just not revealing he was alive before Grayson #12, after Bruce like.....emotionally, mentally and physically badgered him into accepting that doing so would be directly harmful to his family and he didn’t want to be the reason more people died when like, people had just died because he ‘let’ himself be captured and interrogated by Power Woman’s Lasso of Submission, did he?

SORRY TO BE PEDANTIC, just wanted to start this off on a clarification, even though I know the aim of your ask was very much in tune with the rest of my response. A lot of people don’t read the actual comics, so like, I’m never gonna skip over an opportunity to emphasize that the shorthand people use to refer to Dick’s death and the year he was with Spyral, is like, literally just shorthand for describing it. Its not actually an accurate description of how all that went down and who had the most hand in it).

BUT ANYWAY. BACK TO THE MEAT OF THE BEEF.

Okay so like, not only was the entire family and Bruce himself giving Dick shit for his death and Spyral, like, PAINFULLY egregious because it was literal victim blaming in every possible sense of the word....

None of it made a LICK of sense with ANY of their characterizations, and they ONLY all accepted it on face value because the Plot Demanded It, and when you're like, no, as a reader I say The Plot Demanded It is not a good enough reason for me to be like well sure, that makes sense......looking at the characters ACTUAL actions at face value pretty much just makes them all look like assholes?

Like, Tim has never gracefully accepted anyone's death. Ever. This is core characterization for him. He will go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones and to bring them back, prove they're not dead, refuse to let death be the final verdict for them. He was tempted to use the Lazarus Pit to bring his parents back to life. He refused to accept Bruce was dead long before he had any proof whatsoever of that theory. He tried to clone his BFF/future-husband Kon in his fucking basement like, dude was two whole inches away from going Full Dark Side in his quest to bring back a lost loved one no matter WHAT the cost.....and then you've got Dick unmasked onscreen, killed offscreen, and Bruce then reporting to the rest of them with zero inflection 'oh Dick's dead now. Its very sad' and Tim's just like, sure. Sounds legit.

I mean?!?!

And you're SO RIGHT ABOUT THE DAMIAN THING! Bruce LITERALLY LITERALLY LITERALLY went BEYOND the ends of the Earth, like, he full on chartered a fucking space ship to fly his whole family out to APOKOLIPS to bring Damian back from the dead by going to EXTREME lengths.....WHILE everyone else thought Dick was dead....

And not a single person looked at Bruce and was like, okay, not that we're not down to do this for Damian because we miss Stabby Smurf something fierce ourselves, but.....what the fuck is UP with you dude? Why aren't you displaying ANY hint of this same kind of energy in regards to your eldest son that you said you watched die right in front of you?

Like....I don't know that we were actually ever told that Dick's coffin was empty or had a fake in it, but like....this family of detectives who refuse to accept death, defy death, COME BACK FROM THE DEAD....not a single one of them said like, okay, if I'm gonna like, ACCEPT accept that Dick is dead and gone for good, I need to at least just see him one last time? That's literally all it would have taken for someone to realize hey something's a little wonky here. Where's the dead body, Pops?

Since when has Jason ever missed an opportunity to prove Bruce is a) full of shit, b) acting like an emotionless robot and all his kids deserve better especially when they've just like....died, c) just factually incorrect and wrong and jumped to a conclusion before it was conclusively proved, d) lying like a liar or e) all of the above?

Nobody even ASKED if Dick's body could be put in a Lazarus Pit? Yeah, Jason wouldn't necessarily recommend it himself, given what it put him through, but actually fuck that, I take that back, because I'm NOT actually of the opinion that Jason full on hates his life and actively spends every second of every day wishing he hadn't been resurrected, even if it had come with a huge buffet of additional trauma and pain.

And that's kinda what's implied when people just take it for granted that he would never be on board with any scenario involving using a Lazarus Pit to bring Dick back, because it suggests that based even just on his own experiences and feelings, he honestly believes Dick would prefer being dead and not have ANY further opportunities to be with his loved ones, his friends, help save the damn world again at some future point.....that Jason, projecting based just off himself, legit feels Dick would rather be dead than have another shot at life even WITH the downsides of Lazarus Pit usage? Nope. Sorry, I don't buy it.

Speaking of not buying it.....you know what was missing from all those soliloquies the others monologued at Dick about how they felt and were hurt and just devastated by his death, to such a point they can't seem to muster a single shred of happiness that he's NOT dead still -

(seriously, Damian was the ONLY person in ALL THE LANDS OF EMOTION-HAVING who expressed ANY kind of positive reaction to having Dick back. We were so fucking cheated of like.....ANY opportunity to have the characters show just how much they valued him by just being fucking HAPPY he was alive, no matter what else was involved....and then most of fandom compounded that by for years being like mmmm, no, Dick didn't get yelled at enough by his family for what HE put THEM through. Needs more yelling. More punching too. Bad Dick. Bad. This is the only way you'll learn not to die and get shipped off on a mission that you don't want but at least is to protect your family after being beaten into it by your dad whilst victim blaming you for dying in the first place. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE AND THEIR FEELINGS FOR A CHANGE, DICK?!?)

- But like, BUT I DIGRESS aside....you know what was missing from all those monologues about how hard DICK'S death and ensuing year of basically exile from his loved ones was for EVERYONE BUT HIM?

We never got a single line of explanation as to what everyone else officially thinks even happened to him in the first place?

Like, did Bruce straight up just say oh bad news kids, your brother umm. Expired. Spontaneously. There's no one to blame, he just keeled over, its all very sad.

Is that how that went down?

You're telling me that the explanation of Dick's death didn't come with a single pointed finger at someone for this family of blame-happy vigilantes to like, BLAME for the loss of this brother they all mourned oh so much, they just couldn't help but blame him for all the hurt it caused them?

The family that in every other fic is like OBSESSED with avenging and being avenged and all things vengeful and even tangentially vengeance-y....like didn't ask for a single detail on whomst the fuck deprived us of our brother-having?

Where were the attempts on Luthor's life by Jason (who I mean, yeah I know it was in a previous continuity, but erasing that timeline doesn't erase my awareness of the time Dick killed Jason's murderer so like.....mmm, just saying, woulda been nice)....where was the rage directed at the Crime Syndicate and references to how seriously and personally the Batfam took making sure that they were PUNISHED for all this and would never be free to wreak havoc on their world or their family again? What did they tell Damian when he came back to life, and how are you going to tell me that this fraternal little ball of fury didn't aim himself like a cannonball at whomever the fuck had DARED take HIS Batman from him when Damian wasn't around to have his back?

Not only does everyone else's desire to be avenged start falling really flat the second you factor in hey maybe Dick feels "mmm what about MY avenging" sometimes, and why doesn't anyone ever care about doing that for him.....but also, y'know what REALLY sucks about the ONLY person we actually SEE being blamed for Dick's death and ensuing absence being like....Dick himself?

Not only were his family all super keen on making all of this HIS fault and HIM the bad guy because of how it made them all feeeeeeel (and meanwhile fuck his feelings, am I right Batfam hfaklshfklahfkla).....

They somehow found a way to justify prioritizing this OVER ever even getting around to blaming some villain for his death in the FIRST place, in the entire year or so they thought he was still dead!

Like, you couldn't come up with a single target in all that time, but Dick's back two seconds, and you don't even give him a chance to EXPLAIN before you're punching him, shutting him down with 'I expected better from you' and turning away with 'I don't want to hear it, why am I surprised Dick Grayson disappointed me again'?

afshklfhalfhalfhla

Make it make sense!

And like, it won't, cuz it doesn't, and it never will, and like I said at the top, the ONLY reason it all played out this way is because DC doesn't give a fuck about character development and deemed it necessary to go down this way for the sake of the plot (which was totes worth it, I mean, glad we sacrificed characters for this A+ plot which was clearly the greatest plot of all time and definitely justified every story choice made or not made around it loooool).

BUT.

BUT BUT BUT.

The problem isn't JUST that DC is stupid, even though that is an eternal mood and quite the problem.

Its that the SECOND large parts of fandom decided to play along with DC and just accept the story at face value, only add to it and play into it exactly as it happened in canon with no significant deviations, and like, heaping on the LITERAL abuse from Dick's siblings while ignoring the LITERAL abuse from his father....

THAT....is when all of this becomes relevant.

Because the second people decided TO engage with the reasoning DC gave for what Bruce did and how and what Dick did and how and just not mess with any of that and have it all play out exactly like that...

The second people are like, okay we're FINE with not just dismissing this story as OOC writing that doesn't make any sense, and actually VALIDATING it to various degrees by engaging with it as is....

That's when 'OOC writing' stops being an excuse or explanation for alllll of the above gaps in character logic and actions.

Because its like, when you had abundant chance to REJECT this story and say nope, this was bullshit from start to finish and I'm not here for it, when you were just as capable of transforming literally ANY aspect of this story you didn't like into something that made more sense to you....

And you chose not to.

That's.....accepting it as valid writing. You were like, okay, I'm game to just treat this as a thing that happened, just like they said that happened.

For the chance to give Dick shit for it, see. For the angst, see.

And that's when I'm like okay cool, so when engaging with this story as is and accepting it on face value and just delving into the characters as they were SHOWN interacting with and around these events......for the angst or whatever....

You guys just all decided en masse to just hop, skip and jump over allllllllll the opportunities for angst inherent in examining even ANY SINGLE ONE of the above lapses in judgment or hypocrisy on the parts of the characters (who don't get to be excused by OOC writing if you're not going to call the story an example of OOC writing, whoops).

And its just like, uh, what's up with that?

#lol thank you for this ask tho #I havent gone on a good Spyral rant in months #it does wonders for my pores

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our-happygirl500-fan · 3 years

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You know the whole Baterang to the throat thing that causes a lot of discussion in the fandom? I think Bruce might not have been aiming for the throat

It ricochets

This point in comics Bruce has been through a ringer Steph's died, Barbara and Jim have left, Leslie betrayed him and he's had to send Cass and Tim away and now Jason is back but for revenge so Bruce isn’t at his best and I think Bruce threw the Baterang in a moment of panic and either over or undershot which ended up with well that.

This moment causes a lot of debate but I don't see it as “Bruce harming Jason to save the joker” the way a lot of fics paint it I see it more as he'd been aiming for Jason's arm or something to disarm him but overshot and it’s kind of like a symbolism of their relationship.

Which is basically Bruce takes an action to stop Jason from going down a path that he thinks will end up hurting Jason, but ends up hurting Jason in the long-run.

Like when he discussed taking away robin from Jason (because he thought Jason needed time to deal with issues that were becoming more prevalent) which only ended up making Jason feel insecure about his position in the Wayne household, contributing to why he so desperately pursued a stable parental relationship in his biological mother.

Bruce knows that if he gives in and kills the Joker he'll never stop killing we've seen timelines that prove that and I think Bruce also thinks the same of Jason that if Jason kills the Joker he won't stop at all so it’s not that he’s saving the Joker but that he’s trying to save Jason but Bruce ultimately misunderstands Jason’s needs and winds up hurting him.

Bruce is trying to save Jason from what he sees as a downwards spiral, but he ends up hurting him not just emotionally, but physically, and in the most extreme way possible. It's like an even darker echo of how trying to bench him as Robin led to his death.

Bruce has spent YEARS haunted by the memory of Jason’s death his death fundamentally changed Bruce's entire character Alfred said that Jason's death affected Bruce more than his own parents death.

In Underworld Unleashed it's revealed that his greatest desire is to have Jason back, in Hush he talks about how he wanted to put Jason in the Lazarus Pit and how he believes Jason knew he always loved him, and in As The Crow Flies we learn that his greatest fear is Jason coming back as an enemy and then in Under the Red Hood he gets Jason back (his greatest desire) but as an antagonist (his greatest fear) and moreover his belief that Jason 'knew' he loved him is WRONG.

Jason's insecurities from before his death combined with the perceived betrayal of Bruce not avenging him have led Jason to the point where he genuinely believes Bruce doesn't care, and in Jason's eyes, killing the joker is the only way Bruce can prove that he does but instead, in that moment, Bruce's attempt to diffuse the situation backfires.

Bruce misunderstands what Jason needs in that moment like he misunderstood what Jason needed at the start of Death in the Family it's just the ultimate representation of their constant emotional feedback loop. They trap themselves in a cycle of fighting because Jason can't read how Bruce really feels and Bruce can't read what Jason really needs and in that moment both those things are true, with Jason not seeing that Bruce truly cares anymore, and Bruce not knowing how to properly deescalate the situation and show Jason that he still cares.

It's extremely easy to read the batatrang throw as purposeful even though I wholly believe it was accidental but if that moment was explored more, I'm positive that Jason would believe it wasn't an accident, and would view it as proof of his already held view that Bruce doesn't love him anymore after all, that could have killed him, symbolically disowning him in the most extreme way possible.

Heck in Jason's appearance in Green Arrow (2001) Bruce had thought Jason might have died again! Before Jason turned up to mess with Mia.

The thing that's tragic about Jason that actually leads to a lot of his own suffering is that Jason doesn't really know what a healthy relationship looks like so I'm not sure when his actual 'last straw' would be.

Jason is the kind of person who sees love and acceptance as entirely circumstantial. He believes he must /earn/ love and acceptance, i.e. by being Robin, rather than it being inherently given.

A huge piece of understanding Robin Jason is understanding how much he lacked proper support systems back then. School was his only connection to his kids his age, and he didn't benefit much from that connection, his life was essentially: manor, school, Robin, repeat.

Jason loved school, but his school life was also pretty depressing. Jason kept to himself, he didn't have the time to participate in extracurriculars even when he wanted to and his peers didn't view him very positively. Jason was also really isolated from the rest of the hero community, there was his stint with the Titans, but it was pretty brief. He was also penpals with Kid Devil, but for the most part, he just had Batman.

The lack of support is actually one of the reasons I give for Jason and Steph dying in universe since they were the two Robins without support systems outside of Gotham. When Bruce was a jerk Dick and Tim could be like 'fine I'm going to go hang out with the Teen Titans or Young Justice' but Jason and Steph could only be like 'oh no' plus Bruce would deliberately try to take away Steph's support systems that she did have multiple times like when he ordered Cass to stop training with Steph.

But that's besides the point, I wouldn't be surprised if Jason confused being Robin with being accepted in the manor so when Bruce threatened to take away Robin from him, he might've seen it as his only proper support system being taken away from him, his world felt rocked back into instability once again.

When you look at it like that, it's very easy to understand why Jason sought out his biological mother. He had a hope that Sheila would offer him that stability once more, and that he'd get support and trust and unconditional love.

And that’s what make it all the more heartbreaking to me he came to this woman seeking love and gave her his greatest secret and she repaid him with a horrific death. Jason’s death is one of the saddest to me because there’s no high stakes 'he died saving the world stuff' he’s just a kid who wanted a mom and got killed for it.

DC’s habit of taking away who he was is so detrimental to his backstory as the Red Hood because the transformation from someone who tried being kind and who did give it their all being killed for it and coming back like ‘no more’ is so much more interesting than ‘we always knew this would happen’.

Robin disobeying orders is nothing new. If that was the core of why Jason died, then any Robin disobeying orders should never be put in a positive light, but often it is. Jason (and Steph) were just the ones unlucky enough to emerge dead and judged for it instead of alive and praised for it.

Jason died because he was a child who just wanted to be safe and loved.

So many times Robin disobeying orders saved lives it’s nothing new and Jason had a pretty solid reason, the story of Jason Todd should be portrayed as the tragedy not make him some warning sign.

This is why I always hated the victim blaming after Jason & Steph's deaths because they died doing what if it had been Tim or Dick a Robin would be praised for, like take Steph for example we've seen constant stories of Bruce firing Robin, them going off on their own & Bruce realising he's wrong & taking them back but when Steph goes off on her own she dies the only reason Jason & Steph died is that the writers forced them to fail where they would have allowed the others to succeed.

But anyway back to my point the thing about Jason feeling like he had to earn love is why he was initially so hung up on the idea of Bruce 'replacing' him when he came back to life, he viewed Tim being robin as Bruce /transferring/ his love for Jason to another person, rather than seeing that Bruce could love Tim while still loving and missing him.

The reason Jason sought out his mother after Bruce benched him as Robin was that he viewed Bruce benching him as Bruce rejecting him and latched onto the idea of finding someone, i.e. a birth mother, who is supposed to give /unconditional love/.

The fact that his birth mother REJECTED HIM and then played a hand in his murder undoubtedly affected his attitude when he came back, if even his mother didn't want him, and then Bruce let the joker live and replaced him, then, in Jason's eyes, OF COURSE Bruce doesn't care and as mentioned previously Jason didn't really have any friends in school or the hero community, believing that the only real close personal connection in your live, someone you spent all your time with, had forgotten about you and rejected you is bound to mess a person up.

#DC comics #jason todd #bruce wayne #stephanie brown #dc

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peaceisadirtyword · 3 years

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Heathen (Ivar/Edlynn)

A/N: Hello♥️ as I promised, here’s the first chapter of the new series I’m writing. The idea came to me when I was rewatching Vikings and then I planned it while rewatching The Last Kingdom. So I started writing it, doing a bit of worldbuilding to introduce some original characters and here I am. It’s set on season 6B (I'm changing things, so it will not follow the show’s storyline). And I was really excited to write the mature version of Ivar, so I’m sorry if he seems a bit out of character. This chapter might be a bit boring, but it serves as an introduction. I hope you enjoy it, thank you for reading🥰 I will post a new chapter every Thursday at 21:00 (CET).

Warnings: mentions of violence and war, talk of arranged marriage, alcohol... Well, it’s Vikings😅

Words: 4197

Summary

gif belongs to @therealcalicali

"I've heard the pagans are back"

Edlynn raised her head. She sat next to the window, and had spent most of the time looking at the rain falling outside as she leant her head against the wall. It had been raining a lot those days. The beautiful cloth she was trying to practice her embroidery on was already forgotten and abandoned on her lap, a bit dirty with blood from all those times she had poked her finger with the needle.

The queen looked nervous when one of the girls in the room mentioned the northmen. Edlynn had also heard her father and even the king himself talking about it, whispering and with a frown, like men do when they talk about a very serious matter. They had already evacuated some of the towns near the coast, but no one really told her what was happening.

"We must trust on our men and on God" she smiled at her "They will protect England, they always have"

"I heard the king is thinking about evacuating the city too" other of the girls whined "What if they find us?"

"They won't, my dear" the queen looked uncomfortable "I don't know about the plans my husband has, he won't discuss them with me, but I'm sure he'll do what is best for our people"

Edlynn bit her lip. Queen Elsewith was nervous, she had seen her ordering the servants to start packing slowly, in case everyone had to leave the town. And there were whispers and an uneasiness that everyone had noticed.

Next to her, her friend Mildrith leant in to speak softly.

"I hope we can see the heathens from up close this time" she giggled.

Edlynn had to hold back a smile. For some reason, Mildrith had a fascination for the northmen that called themselves vikings, even if everyone else was scared of them. She had been infatuated with a viking boy that worked on the lands King Alfred had given to the northmen some time ago. Even if neither Mildrith nor Edlynn had been allowed to visit those lands, King Alfred invited some of the settlers to dine in his own home sometimes, to secure the good relations with them. The boy and Mildrith had had a short but intense romance that Edlynn helped to hide from her family and the king, and since then she had been obsessed with learning about their culture.

Edlynn could understand why, their ways and their traditions were different from the ones she had grown up with, and anyone with a bit of curiosity in them would want to know more. But no one let her learn about their Gods or they beliefs, for it was a sin.

"I don't think we will" she shook her head and spoke softly "The King won't let them"

"Maybe they will be invited for a feast" Mildrith bit her lip, excited "And we can see them. They say they're are the same ones that took York"

"We should go and pray" one of the women in the room stood up, interrupting Edlynn as she was about to answer her friend "For the safety of our country and our king, ask God to protect us"

Some of the women muttered in agreement, and soon the room filled with the noise of everyone standing and walking to the door. But before she could even stand, the queen approached. Quickly, Mildrith and her bowed their heads at Queen Elsewith respectfully.

"Edlynn, I'd like to talk to you for a moment, if you will"

She nodded slowly, and Mildrith excused herself after widening her eyes.

"Yes, queen Elsewith?"

"I just wanted to see if you were alright, Edlynn, these days I've barely seen you"

She bit her lip again. The queen was always nice and kind to her, but it was still the queen and she couldn't act like close friends with her. And she definitely couldn't speak her mind freely.

"Yes, I'm fine" she smiled softly "These days I wasn't feeling too well, I... Spent some time in my chambers just resting"

"I was worried about you, you disappeared just after your engagement to Lord Edmund, and as I've also been there, I thought maybe I could help"

The engagement. She had tried her best not to think about it the past few days. Even if Edlynn knew since she was born that she'd have to marry a stranger, it was still awkward to meet a man during a small feast that was announced as her future husband just half an hour later.

In any case, she was still lucky, Lord Edmund was handsome, young and, as far as everyone knew, nice. Edlynn wasn't that upset about it, but it was still overwhelming, and the fact that she'd have to abandon the court, her friends -oh, what would she do without Mildrith?- and her family to go and live in a stranger's home saddened her.

"Lord Edmund is a very good man that I can't wait to get to know better, and I feel honored and lucky that he chose me to be his wife" Edlynn repeated the words that Hilda, the nun that raised her after her mother's death, had made her learn in preparation for this moment.

Elsewith smiled sadly at the young girl. It was a woman's duty, but she saw a lot of herself on Edlynn and she knew she must have been scared and nervous, even if she understood it. But Edlynn had always been a proper and obedient lady and, like many other women in her position, learnt to hide her true feelings. She'd never do anything that went against her father and the King's wishes.

"The king would never have let him ask for your hand in marriage if he didn't know he's a good man, a good warrior and a good Christian" the queen reassured her "He loves your family a lot and just wishes a good life for you"

"I know, my queen, and I will always be thankful to him and to you for how much kindness you've shown me and my family"

Her smile widened.

"I also wanted to talk to you about Mildrith" Elsewith sighed and started walking to the door "She really shouldn't go around talking about how she'd like to meet a northman, it's... Not proper"

"I know" muttered Edlynn, following her "I'll talk to her"

She nodded, and just before exiting the room, Elsewith took her hand and squeezed it softly. In some way, she had always considered Edlynn her friend.

"Remember you can come and talk to me any time you need" the queen smiled again "Women understand each other much better than men"

"I will" she nodded "Thank you, my queen" Edlynn bowed her head again before Queen Elsewith turned around, walking to the nearest chapel escorted by two of the guards.

__________________________________________

King Alfred threw a feast to celebrate the engagement. Usually, this kind of things weren't celebrated that much, but Edlynn's father, Lord Eldred, had been close to King Aethelwulf and was close to King Alfred, becoming one of his most trusted men after his mother's death. Besides, Alfred and Edlynn grew up together and even if with time the both of them had learnt to keep their relationship purely formal, he still had a soft spot for her.

Edlynn's sister had been married to a lord from Mercia and her brother was a proud member of King Alfred's personal guard. Now it was her turn to make the family proud by doing her duty and what she had been born to: Stand next to her soon-to-be-husband and smile politely at strangers that couldn't care less about her and her happiness but that queued to wish the both of them a happy marriage.

Even if she knew that was what she was supposed to do, it was still boring.

"The king has told me you enjoy reading" Lord Edmund, sitting next to her, was the one that started the conversation after talking with the king and her father about war.

Edlynn was surprised when he spoke to her. It was the first time the two of them talked. She wasn't very talkative, at least not at the beginning, and didn't really expect more from him than the usual formalities. She had seen marriages like this many times, and didn't really expected him to acknowledge her much in public.

"I do" she smiled politely.

"It's nice, what kind of things you like to read?"

"Mostly, about history" she bit her lip nervously "I find the Romans particularly interesting"

Lord Edmund nodded.

"I will make sure that you have enough to read back in my castle" he said softly "And don't be afraid of asking for anything that you need or want to feel comfortable"

That surprised Edlynn even more. He smiled at her confused face and his grey eyes fixed on hers. 'At least he has pretty eyes' she thought. Maybe their children would inherit his grey eyes and not her brown ones. For some reason, she didn't feel that overwhelmed by the thought of a young child with his grey eyes and her auburn hair.

"I knew you were special since I saw you, when I first arrived here to take an oath to King Alfred after my father's death, that's why I asked your father for your hand in marriage, and I'm pleased to know there's much more about you behind your beauty"

His words were so sweet, and one lock of his bright black hair fell next to his face, giving him an attractive look that made Edlynn understand why many women had been glaring at her since the engagement was announced.

"You flatter me, my lord" she tried your best to sound confident "I appreciate your kindness, thank you"

From the corner of her eye, she could see her father and Hilda, the nun, watching her. Edlynn straightened her back and kept talking to Lord Edmund, feeling a strange emptiness inside her.

____________________________________

Ivar knew taking England wouldn't be easy, but it would definitely be easier if he was leading the entire army.

King Harald had the last word, and even if he trusted him enough to let him think about the strategies, it wasn't the same. Ivar made a flawless plan, he thought about every single detail, and he knew exactly what the english would do. It wasn't too hard.

"So, King Alfred is evacuating the city" Harald emptied his drink, taking another piece of meat before his deep blue eyes fixed on Ivar, who ate in silence next to his brother. Hvitserk ignored them, focusing on the food on his plate "Should we take it?"

Ivar raised an eyebrow and swallowed the food before taking his cup to drink some more ale.

"We need to defeat Alfred first, we can't do much with just the city"

Harald shrugged.

"Defeating him in battle won't change much either, we need to gain some more ground"

Ivar hummed, nodding.

"I agree, and we should try and find something that gives us some kind of advantage over them, because we are outnumbered and we can't defeat them just by winning battles, they can assemble another army faster than us"

"And? You're the strategist here, Ivar" Harald chuckled. In some way, he was happy to have the youngest Ragnarsson back on his side.

"We need to find something that makes them surrender to our terms and buys us some time" Ivar raised an eyebrow.

"Like a hostage?" Hvitserk raised his head for the first time since the food arrived. He let Ivar do the talk, and stuck to fighting.

Ivar smirked at his brother.

"Exactly. A hostage, dear brother"

"I don't think that a couple of soldiers captured in battle will make them surrender to our terms" Harald shrugged again "We'd need someone else, someone like..."

"The queen"

The king raised an eyebrow at him, while Ivar smiled softly.

"Christian women don't go to battle, and we can't try and break into their camp, there will be too many guards"

"Exactly, so we need to find a moment in which the men are occupied with something else, something like..."

"A battle" Hvitserk chuckled.

Ivar nodded winking at his brother.

"So you mean to kidnap the queen during the battle" Harald nodded slowly "It could work"

"The queen won't be far from the battlefield, and there won't be so many guards" Ivar shrugged, taking another bite from his plate.

"We could go and meet them on a battlefield, I already explored some of the lands around here and I think it would be easier to attract them to the woods" Ivar nibbled one of the ribs "Then, we ambush them, and keep them distracted enough time to sneak into their camp and take the queen"

"And then?" Harald looked interested. Sometimes, he found Ivar's mind fascinating.

"Then we negotiate" he shrugged "We just want some land, right? The queen in exchange for that land, I think it's a fair exchange, then, when we have the land, some resources and a place to settle down, we can continue fighting, because we will be stronger"

"But he could betray us after he gets his queen back" Hvitserk raised an eyebrow.

"I know Alfred, he won't" Ivar shook his head "Not as long as he thinks we're willing to stop the raids and the invasion if we get the land"

"So we lie to him" Harald pointed, and Ivar nodded slowly.

"But first" he raised an eyebrow "We need the queen"

_________________________________

The beds on the camp were uncomfortable. Edlynn didn't complain, though, knowing everyone had bigger problems than worrying about her not getting any sleep.

Just two days after the engagement feast, king Alfred ordered to evacuate the city. The northmen were too close, and it was too dangerous, it was the only explanation she got when her father bursted into the chambers and ordered to pack only the necessary. Edlynn barely saw him since then, as he and Edward, her brother, would ride with the king when everyone was moving and didn't leave the king's tent when they camped, too busy with battle plans and strategies. Queen Elsewith was also with them, and Edlynn's betrothed, Lord Edmund, too. Betrothed... It still sounded too irreal. At least, he rode next to the carriage she traveled in.

Mildrith was the only one that found the entire thing exciting. Edlynn often found her wandering outside the camp, and didn't mind how many times she begged her to stay in the tent, Mildrith wouldn't listen.

Edlynn could sneak a couple of books inside of her trunk, hidden between some dresses, and it was the only entertainment she had.

"They say tomorrow there will be a battle" Mildrith muttered as she watched some of the soldiers training. It was raining and the both of them stayed inside of the tent, just at the entrance so Edlynn could read and Mildrith could watch the people around.

"The King and our men will be victorious" Edlynn repeated what Hilda said every time she mentioned the war "We have God on our side"

Mildrith frowned, as she always did when she heard that phrase, which was the only thing everyone seemed to say these days.

"I'm not so sure about that, Lynn" she muttered "They are smart and their Gods are fierce, they say that they're lead by the same one that took York" she lowered her tone "Ivar the Boneless"

Her friend raised an eyebrow, the name was familiar.

"Why do they call him boneless?"

"Because he can't walk" Mildrith shrugged like it was obvious "They say he crawls around like a snake, and that he's fierce and vicious... Some even say he's the Devil incarnated"

Edlynn rolled her eyes.

"Those are tales, Mildrith, he's just a man" she chuckled "A cruel one, a heathen, but just a man, he's just like you and me"

"Some women say he's handsome too" she giggled.

"Have they seen him?"

"Yes, in York, they said he's cruel but beautiful, just looking at him felt like a sin"

Edlynn closed her book.

"You shouldn't go around saying these things, Mildrith, anyone would think you're in love with that heathen"

She laughed out loud, making some of the soldiers near them turn to look at her.

"I'm not in love with him, I don't know him" she shrugged "But I'd like to see him, at least once"

Edlynn rolled her eyes again, shaking her head before going back to the book.

__________________________________

Edlynn didn't know how to feel when she saw the men leaving. King Alfred said goodbye to his queen and Edlynn hugged her father and brother. Even Lord Edmund kissed the back of her hand and bowed his head with a gentle smile on his lips. She didn't know how to react, as she never had to say goodbye to the men when they left to battle. Should I cry? Smile? She tried her best to imitate queen Elsewith.

"Pray for us" her father kissed Edlynn's forehead softly for the last time before getting on his horse "And may God be with us"

She nodded slowly and kept silent as they left the camp.

After a couple of minutes in silence, the queen walked towards her, making Edlynn nervous. Will she scold me for not doing this well?

"Edlynn, I'd like you to join me in my tent to pray for the safe return of the king and his men"

She looked around. Some of the women looked at her, probably jealous of seeing she had the queen's favor and thinking that was the reason why she had been betrothed to Lord Edmund.

"Of course" Edlynn nodded her head respectfully, ignoring them.

The queen smiled brightly at her, relieved to hear her agreeing. She had a bad feeling about this new war, and worried about her husband, but also hoped to find some kind of peace on the tent.

"You can go, there's food and wine, I'll go talk to the priest first, and then I'll join you"

Edlynn nodded with a small smile. Her eyes found Hilda's, who smiled proudly at the young girl she loved so much. Mildrith waited until the queen had walked away and then approached her friend.

"What's with you and the queen?"

Edlynn shrugged.

"I suppose she's just trying to be nice, after all she understands what's like to be betrothed to someone you don't know"

"Oh" Mildrith bit her lip, almost like she had forgotten Edlynn was about to marry a stranger "Yes, it makes sense... Anyway, be careful, people will start thinking you're trying to win the queen's favor"

Edlynn glanced to a group of women from the court, who looked at the both of them and whispered.

"I'll go to the queen's tent now" she decided to ignore it "Join me later? We could go to the river and maybe bathe"

Anything to avoid thinking about the battle that was probably going to take place soon.

Mildrith nodded with a smile and waved at her as she approached the tent. The guards bowed their heads respectfully and moved to let her enter. It was much bigger than the tent Edlynn shared with Hilda, and the bed looked much comfortable than the one they had given to her. The bedding was soft and warm, and made her sigh in jealousy as her eyes wandered around the tent.

There was a table with some food and wine on it, and Edlynn's mouth watered as she realized she still hadn't eaten. In front of the bed, there was a table with a cross and a few candles, which was where she supposed both the king and the queen said their prayers.

Edlynn glanced at the entrance to make sure no one entered and quickly grabbed a grape from one of the bronze plates and turned around to savor it. She loved grapes, and the best ones could only be found at the king's table.

But as she glanced down to hide her face in case the queen entered, Edlynn noticed something on the rug that covered the floor of the tent. Frowning, and wondering why there was a dark spot just before her, she bended down to examine it, widening her eyes when she realized it was blood. There wasn't just one spot, but a trail that disappeared behind a curtain, and suddenly she realized something else.

The guards didn't ask who I was before letting me in.

Before Edlynn could even react, someone grabbed her from behind, putting their hands on her mouth to stifle the scream that left her throat. She writhed and fought, but there was two of them, too strong for her. Suddenly, she heard a whisper on a foreign language and then an intense pain on the back of her head as one of the two men hit the back of her head with the handle of his sword before there was only darkness.

________________________________

Ivar was proud. Once again, he ensured a clear victory over the saxons with a flawless plan, and he demonstrated he still was the brilliant strategist everyone admired. Even Harald looked impressed to see that the risky plan to defeat King Alfred's army had been successful. Ivar seemed to read the young king's mind perfectly, and if everything had gone well with the other part of the plan, they'd have a queen waiting for them in the camp that would make things even easier for them. Hvitserk also looked satisfied, having missed the adrenaline of the battlefield and the satisfaction of killing too much. Harald admitted he was wary of those two, with Ivar's sharp mind and Hvitserk's skills in battle, they were nearly unbeatable.

Thanks Odin any of them had given any signs of wanting the crown of Norway Harald had fought so hard to get. But he still didn't trust Ivar completely.

But now they had a common cause, and he hoped that controlling some lands in England would satisfy Ivar's hunger for power.

"So..." Ivar didn't speak until he had finished two horns of ale. The intensity of the battle, standing for so long and walking with the crutches left him exhausted "Do we have a queen or not?"

The men that had just entered the tent, still wearing the saxon's armor, bowed their heads before speaking.

"We do" one of them smiled victoriously "She's unconscious, but guarded, we had to hit her to bring her here"

Hvitserk raised an eyebrow. Ivar had made very clear that he didn't want the queen harmed. Not yet at least, he had said with a chuckle the night before, Alfred won't surrender to our terms if we harm her.

"She's fine, though" the other man glared at his companion "It was just a small blow on the head"

Harald nodded, ignoring the stern glare Ivar sent their way.

"Try and wake her up" the king ordered "We'll talk to her before feasting and resting"

The men bowed again and left. Harald then turned to look at the brothers. In some way, it hurt to see them so close again, reminding him of his own brother, who had also been his most loyal friend. The Ragnarssons didn't have the best relationship, but he noticed they looked much closer since they went back to Kattegat after being with the Rus. He didn't know what had happened there between them, but now he was sure no one could get between them. He envied them for that.

Now they seemed to be having a conversation in silence, with just some stares and grimaces.

"Your plan worked" he said out loud, looking at Ivar. The youngest son of Ragnar shot him a cocky smile.

"Of course it worked, saxons are predictable" he shrugged "And Alfred won't dare to attack us when we have his queen" his eyes shone with pride.

"I wonder if she's pretty" Hvitserk muttered with a dreamy smile as he chewed on a piece of bread. Harald smirked at that, he understood the feeling of coming back from battle and feeling the need to have a woman after filling his belly with warm food and cold drinks. It helped to relax.

Ivar rolled his eyes. He was never as interested in women as his brothers were, and the few times he actually was with women had ended in disaster. So he couldn't understand the obsession.

"She's a christian, so probably not" he shrugged "Anyway, that's the last thing we should worry about"

"There are beautiful christian women out there, little brother" Hvitserk chuckled, amused by his brother's annoyance.

"They're weak" he narrowed his eyes "They are always scared, they don't fight and they don't have the spirit and the courage of viking women"

"How many christian women have you met, Ivar?" Harald laughed.

Ivar frowned. He had had too much contact with christians for his liking.

"Anyway" he scowled, annoyed, as he stood up leaning on his crutch "Let's go, we have a queen to meet".

__________________________________

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @therealcalicali @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @gruffle1 @justacripple @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly @letsrunawaytotomorrow @inforapound @sallydelys @hellogabysblog @winchesterwife27 @hecohansen31 @youbloodymadgenius @xinyourdreamsx @funmadnessandbadassvikings @tgrrose @lovessce @tootie-fruity @didiintheblog @alexhandersenx @belovedcherry @fantasydevil2002 @xceafh @astrape-the-weatherwitch @destynelseclipsa @momowhoo @mcrmarvelloki @nanahachikyuu @valopz @mrsalwayswrite @poisonous00 @whenimaunicorn @heavenly1927

#ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar x oc #vikings #vikings imagine #heathen

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opheliawillowbrook · 3 years

Text

How the Cookie Crumbles

To say his brothers fought would be an understatement: They warred. That. That was the better word. However, it was Dick who was the peacemaker among them. The mediator extraordinaire, translating all his brothers’ woes and misunderstandings into less doom-pending transgressions. But to say this unofficial, yet very necessary part he played was tasking was yet another understatement of unspeakable proportions. It was a FUCKING LOT.

“I swear to God, Drake. You and Brown are a special kind of stupid.”

“Shut up, Damian! It’s a good idea!” Tim grumbled in reply.

“Yeah! You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first!”

Dick’s face fell upon hearing the argument and considered turning the other way, but he’d learned the hard way that his lack of interference could result in bloodshed. Damian did have a history of stabbing Tim, and Robin had an impressive body count, according to Jason. I’d better make sure he doesn’t add two more.

“Well, fuck me and my entire life,” Dick droned in frustration. “What are you three bitching about now?”

“Damian keeps saying our idea is stupid,” Stephanie tattled.

“Yeah!” Tim added with crossed arms. “He says we lack the fortitude for good ideas!”

“You do!” the current robin exclaimed.

“Damian?”

The youngest batboy rolled his eyes and reasoned, “Listen, I know these two brain donors barely have two brain cells to rub between them—”

“That’s not the only thing they rub!” Jason called from the other room.

Damian again rolled his eyes in contempt and continued, “And I’ve accepted, as a member of this family, that everyone gets to act a little stupid from time to time. However, as much as I would like to respect their commitment to their shared stupidity, I feel as if they are abusing the privilege and it needs to stop before one of them gets hurt.”

“Wow, he actually cares,” Jason added from still in another room.

“Have you been sitting there listening the whole time?” Dick asked, near facepalm.

“Affirmative,” Jason confirmed, entering from the hall.

“And you did nothing to stop them fighting?”

“It’s funnier this way.”

“Do I always have to be the responsible one?”

“Affirmative,” all four said with little thought.

“Okay then,” Dick sighed with reluctance. “Damian, I know you find it hard to accept the choices of others, but you need to understand that free choice and expression is about accepting that others may not make the same choices as you, and that’s okay. It’s the same as you choosing not to take my dating advice and ask Raven out because you’re afraid of rejection—”

“Shut up, Grayson! This isn’t about me!!!” Damian spat.

“Damian has the hots for Raven?” Jason teased. “You have good taste, Mighty Mouse. She got a great—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Todd!” Dick and Damian ordered in unison.

“I was gonna say personality,” Jason droned. “Get your minds out of the gutter. I mean for fuck’ sake.”

“Sure you were,” Tim replied with a glower.

“Yeah Tim, cause you never stare at her tits while you talk to her,” Jason added, throwing him doubly under the bus.

“Dude, are you trying to get me killed?” Tim said, shooting an elbow into his brother’s ribs as Damian and Stephanie both glared. Spurring Dick into a further mood for murder.

“My point being is, just because you don’t like other peoples’ ideas, doesn’t mean they’re stupid.”

“Tell them the idea, guys!” Jason urged, stirring the pot.

Stephanie and Tim looked at each other and nodded, as though they’d discovered the holy grail itself. “We’re gonna write a series of YA novels and sell them on the web!” Steph sang optimistically.

“Yeah, it’s a huge and diverse market,” Tim added.

“And with established characters, we’ll make a killing.”

Dick’s brow furrowed. “That sounds like fanfiction?”

“It sounds like utter bullshit,” Damian sneered, not single fuck given.

“It’s not bullshit,” Tim snapped. “YA novels make up a huge portion of the market. People love those things.”

“Then name one YA novel that has sold more than a manga in the last 10 years?”

Tim shrugged. “I can’t think of one at the top of my head, but there they definitely exist and sell.”

“Yeah, so does my fanfiction based on this family,” Jason added under his breath.

“What?” Everyone asked.

“Nothing. Continue.”

“So anyway, I told Damian it’s a foolproof plan.”

Dick rolled his eyes with a bit of doubt, but who was he to judge or discourage their creativity. I mean, he dropped out of college after all? “I’m not saying I believe it’s bulletproof, because frankly, nothing is. But I’m curious why you would consider telling Damian? I mean, he hates most things.”

“And Drake. I hate Drake.”

“We’re all very aware, Dami,” Dick drawled in annoyance. “But yeah, why would you tell him anything important to you? Especially that?”

“Well, we kinda needed a loan. I knew Bruce would undoubtedly say no and, well, Damian has money.”

“Because I make good business decisions.”

“I don’t know why I thought of asking you?”

“You didn’t, Jason told you to,” Stephanie confessed, recalling an earlier conversation.

“Jason, really?” Dick tsked.

“Hey, Damian does make good business decisions. Who do you think cleans and invests money? It’s certainly not Alfred.”

“Because Alfred would have nothing to do with your blood money, Jason. And Damian, I’m very disappointed in you!”

“Grayson, I don’t know what high horse you are riding on today, but you better come off it. Father told me if I wanted money, that I needed to earn it and that I should get a job. So I got one.”

“Laundering money for Red Hood’s criminal Enterprise is not a job!”

“Actually it is. Mighty Mouse made us an LLC and everything. I own several Wash & Folds, all legitimate! Thanks to Hell Spawn here! I’m actually considering making him a partner.”

“So will your LLC fund our YA Novels?”

“Oh fuck no!”

“Come on, Jay! We have a solid business plan,” Stephanie pleased.

“You’re business plan is a bunch of meaningless numbers written on the back of a napkin and poorly illustrated versions of us,” Damian said, holding up the napkin in question.

“Okay, so it’s not the final draft, but we’re working on it!” Tim said pointedly.

“Yeah, as tempting as this all sounds, I didn’t make my money making half baked business decisions,” Jason reasoned

“No, you made it by taking over Gotham’s drug trade,” Dick clarified with disapproval.

“Which was a solid business decision.”

“Why do I even talk to you?”

“I don’t know why I talk to any of you,” Damian scowled, arms crossed, grateful there was no shared genetics between him and his adoptive kin. “I don’t understand what father saw in any of you.

“I can’t answer that,” Jason replied. “However, I can tell you, from personal experience, what he saw in your mom.”

“Do you wanna die, Todd?”

“Do you wanna not have a job?” Jason wanted. “Also, been there done that. But hey, if I died twice then I’d have buffy status so don’t threaten me with a good time, kid.”

“On that note, I’m leaving,” Damian grimaced. “I have to meet Raven, anyway.”

“Oh,” Dick sang. “You have a date!”

“It’s not a date.”

“Bet you wish it was a date,” Stephanie teased. “Y’know, if you just stopped acting like a dick all the time, I bet she’d go out with you.”

“Shut up, Brown.”

“Oh no,” Dick smiled. “I know it’s hard to believe, but he’s nice to Raven.”

“Hey keep that shit up,” Jason added. “If you’re nice to her, she’d be nice to you!”

“I hate all of you,” Damian proclaimed and stormed away.

“Fuck you too! See you at work Monday! Jason called, earning a tiger middle finger.

“He might be an asshole, but he’s a good kid,” Jason nodded with a sense of pride, causing to Dick to silently scoff. “Still needs to get laid though.”

“Bruce is gonna be so pissed when he finds out you pulled Dami into your bullshit.”

“You’re using Raven’s pet name for him now?” Jason mocked. “And fucker’s gonna have to prove it first; there’s a reason I hired ‘Dami’ for that job.”

“Dude, fuck you; dig your grave,” Dick lamented. “And don’t come at me with one of your tired ass death jokes, they’re getting old.”

“Suit yourself,” the Outlaw glowered as silence set in.

“So Dick,” Tim dared sheepishly. “You, um, wanna invest in--”

“Absolutely not,” the elder hero replied.

Leaving Jason to chuckle. “And that’s the way the cookie crumbled.”

If you enjoyed that feel free to leave me kudos 👉 here on Ao3 lol. If you have any remdom prompts send them my way; maybe I’ll feel inspired 😘

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stxleslyds · 3 years

Note

I have read your thought about the Batfamily, now I really want to know your thought about the one who started it, the Batman himself. We can't ignore the fact that Bruce is abusing his children, but there's also some moments where he's being a good father to them. But some of his act doesn't make sense.

He's beating his children, then calling them his son after. He act like a mad man after Damian's death (yeah, they did Jason dirty in here), feeling sorrow and desperately wanting to ressurect him, but then neglecting him continously in the future. I didn't know much about Cass, Bruce seems to always be a good father to her. But her fans once pointed that Bruce (or DC) is too hard on her to not killing/too soft on the others, because the other batkids has killed some villains while under Batman and still got to continue putting on their costumes.

What is exactly Bruce character? How is his relationship with every one of his children?

I feel like Batman can't be in a good relationship with one of his children without destroying his relationship with the other. I always love parents and children relationship in comics, but with batfamily sometimes it just so 'fanon-y' and some are hurtful.

I stopped reading Batman book for a long time. And come back reading that wedding and city of bane arc, because I want to know how they killed Alfred. And honestly those run are terrible. The issue basically just a batcat fanservice, with the worst Batman and Catwoman characterization ever. The batkids didn't even got many appearance and treated awfully as if they are just extras, even if they all are capable and have connection with Alfred.

Hey there Anon!

My thoughts on Batman and Bruce have changed over the last few years, he wasn’t the character that introduced me to DC comics but what I got to read from him at the time seemed good. As time went by, I started to feel like the whole concept of Batman was overrated and he kinda tired me in entertainment such as movies and all that. He never truly was a character that I actually liked so by the time that I read Under the Red Hood I knew that I liked Dick and Jason better than Bruce.

Batman was interesting but I was completely indifferent about Bruce. That whole thing changed around the time that the New 52 was sort of ending, there I started to heavily dislike Bruce and then that turned into pure hate. Now, I am just tired of the guy and every time that he appears in Dick or Jason content my day is ruined.

I hate that DC has been writing Bruce as an abusive and manipulative person and father to his “kids”, he has done a lot of wrong to them in comic history but all went to shit (in current comics) when Bruce tried to manipulate Jason into reliving the day that he died and his resurrection in Batman and Robin vol2. #20 and when he beat Dick and manipulated him into becoming a spy after telling him that he had told everyone that he was dead in Nightwing vol.3 #30.

Bruce was a horrible human being in the pre-New 52 timeline too sometimes, mostly towards Dick but in a way, it felt like Dick was able time and time again to get away from him a little bit. Now none of his kids are given the opportunity to turn their backs on Bruce, they are kept in his surroundings no matter how abusive he becomes towards them.

My biggest problem with Bruce’s abusiveness is the fact that the writers never treat it like he acts in an abusive way, they never make him apologize or have an internal discussion where he realises that he was in the wrong. “Bruce is a horrible person to his sons but it doesn’t matter because he is right and he is Batman so that’s that”, that’s the message that I feel DC is selling us. Bruce never receives punishment or is called out for his behaviour, Dick was never able to tell Bruce that what he did to him was unforgivable, he never got the chance to explain to anyone that he didn’t play dead, and when he came back from Spyral he took all the shit from his “family” himself.

Sometimes DC does something even worse, they try to hide Bruce’s neglect with things that never happened like they did with the Ric thing in Dick’s case. Dick was passed around from villain to villain when he was most vulnerable and at the end of it all DC had the guts to say that Batman had been watching over Dick all the time. Like, why lie in such a blatant way? Does Bruce enjoy watching his son suffer from a far or was he too much of a coward to tell Dick that he was a shit father, got stuck in a hole and then decided to play “Cat and Bat” with Selina instead of caring for any of his children?

The situation with Damian’s death and resurrection was a whole thing that was meant to prove that Bruce loved Damian and considered him his son. But in their effort to make Bruce look like a good father to Damian they completely destroyed his relationship with his other kids and that was also the start of Bruce referring to Damian as his ONLY son. And like you said after Damian was resurrected Bruce ended up neglecting him afterwards which ultimately led Damian to run away.

His relationship with Cass and Duke is something that I cannot explore because I am not into those characters and they are involved in books that I am not interested in. So I cannot say anything about that.

With Tim it’s complicated because I feel like his relationship with him was never actually father/son it was more like mentor/mentee and that seemed to work better for them, ever since they started the whole family thing Bruce started to act a little bit too rough towards Tim and that ended with Bruce punching Tim during the “City of Bane” arc. Bruce never apologised or was shown realising his mistake, but DC made sure to explain that Bruce was going through a rough time so that’s why he did it. It was pure rubbish and I dislike it a lot.

I answered an ask a while ago about how I thought Dick and Jason could become family the way that DC treats the “Batfamily” within comics and I came up with the idea of the “Dickfamily” because I felt like DC made a big mistake the moment they revolved the Bat family around Bruce and not Dick. Bruce is a character that is known for being lonely and for being surrounded by darkness that he only manages to escape through the light of Robin (Dick Grayson because he was the first), he was always depicted as someone who is hard to work with and considers his teammates only co-workers and not friends. He is a difficult person to connect with, so why on earth did DC come up with a family surrounding that man? (I actually know the answer to that question and it is: money, DC did it to sell more comics under the Batman name but we are going to forget about that here, let me be petty).

Why would DC make it all about a man that doesn’t connect or goes out of his way to say that he “works alone” when Dick Grayson is standing right there? DC hates that they created a character like Dick because he is just better than Bruce at everything, he just is, he is better family to Alfred, Jason, Tim and Damian, he was even written as a better father to Damian than Bruce ever was!

Bruce is just not a people person or a person that forms strong bonds with people. And that makes the whole “Batfamily” concept suffer and come off as something forced that doesn’t actually work.

Tom King was one of the writers that tried to kill the concept of the “Batfamily” with Bruce and Selina becoming a couple and by continuously saying that Selina was who was the most important person in Bruce’s life and the one that made him a better person. All Tom King did with that is make fans and non-fans of the “Batfamily” feel rage. Like, I might not like the “Batfamily” but there is no way that Selina comes first to Alfred, Dick or Damian, there is just no way and if that were actually true then that’s boring.

All the writers that have pushed the “Batfamily” concept (try) do it in a way that makes it look grand and of actual essence but without putting any work on it, if you ask me the “Batfamily” (if there has to be one) should only include Bruce, Alfred (he do be dead though), Dick, Tim, Cass and Damian (I suppose Duke too, I don’t know much about him). The “Batfamily” has to be small because that way you can actually build relationships and make them matter. Having Kate, Steph, Jason and so many others involved in a concept that was made to fit around Bruce looks stupid! Bruce has had almost zero connection to Kate and Steph in the last ten years and Bruce’s “relationship” with Jason is a complete joke!

Bruce is just not the character that is meant to be surrounded by too much people, and he is not a good person towards his family so the whole ass concept should be thrown to the trash and finally let it die. But money is important and if there is something that DC will never stop doing, is milking Batman for content that can be (sometimes) pretty basic.

All in all, I think Bruce sucks and that his “kids” shouldn’t be dragged back to him ever again or at least for a long while. All of them would actually benefit from not being involved with anything relating to Batman. Dick could benefit from Bruce and other Bat-related characters staying away from him and letting him live his life in Bludhaven. And Jason? My sweet Chonky? He would be in such a better place if Bruce disappeared from his life, imagine the actually good books we would have if Jason was free to act the way he was meant to do as the Red Hood…

(We saw a little bit of that in the back up story of Detective Comics by Rosenberg, Batman is still involved but he and Jason are definitely not on the same side of the story! So excited for Task Force Z!)

I don’t know If al that I just said answers your question but I hope you have a fantastic week Anon!

#batfamily #batfam #jason tood #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #dc comics #asksss

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astrognossienne · 2 years

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tragic icon: john lennon - an analysis

“Everybody loves you when you’re six feet in the ground.” - John Lennon

Well, not everybody. As founder and one-fourth of arguably the greatest band of all time, The Beatles, much has been said and dissected and analyzed about the man from the many who were fascinated by, adored, idolized, and worshiped him. Often called “the thinking man’s Beatle”, his talent was and still is undeniable and his place in music history is set in stone. His songs, whether he co-wrote them in his iconic partnership with his friend Paul McCartney, or whether he was solo, have been much-admired and covered, not least of all that old vain, vapid and mawkish chestnut that everyone likes to break out in times of social trouble and crisis: “Imagine”. His platitudes for peace and love, however trite, nonetheless struck a major chord with millions. His legend naturally increased after his untimely murder and he instantly became canonized by the masses as some type of martyr. The death of a Beatle turned washed-up house husband made the world stand still. His last album became a hit, a funereal fervour helped it sell three million copies in the US alone; it was #1 in more than a dozen countries and went on to win the 1981 Grammy Award for Album Of The Year. We all seem to need heroes, and some people seem to need to be admired in that way. However, when we elevate people to that status we are often not doing them any favours; nobody can stand that level of scrutiny. Maybe he shouldn’t be sentimentalized anyway – he doesn’t deserve it and he would have hated it. At any rate, he’s not the demigod that many make him out to be; he was just a man, and a deeply flawed one, at that. The fact is that very few of us actually knew the man personally, so nearly all of us, including myself, are basing our opinions on hearsay. However, I'm not overly fond of John Lennon. As such, I’ll keep this analysis brief.

John Lennon, according to astrotheme, was a Libra sun and Aquarius moon. Lennon was born during a German air-raid over Liverpool, England. His father, Alfred “Alf” Lennon, was a merchant seaman, who deserted his wife Julia (nee Stanley) and their infant child. As Alf was often away at sea, Julia started going out to dance halls. In 1942, she met a Welsh soldier named “Taffy” Williams. By 1944, Julia was pregnant with Williams' baby, and Williams refused to live with Julia—who was still married to Alf—until she gave up John, which she refused to do. She gave birth to a daughter, Victoria Elizabeth, on 19 June 1945, and was subsequently given up for adoption to a Norwegian Salvation Army Captain and his wife (Peder and Margaret Pedersen) after intense pressure from her family. Julia soon met another man, John Dykins, and after numerous criticisms from the Stanley family about their (still-married) daughter 'living in sin' with Dykins as well as considerable pressure from her sister Mimi—Mimi threatened to call Social Services unless John was handed over to her care—Julia reluctantly sent John to live with Mimi and her husband George. In July 1946, Alf visited Mimi's house and took John to Blackpool for a long holiday, but he was secretly intending to emigrate to New Zealand with him. Julia and Dykins found out and followed them to Blackpool.

Alf asked Julia to go with them both to New Zealand, but she refused. Lennon's parents agreed that Julia should take him and give him a home as Alf left again. Julia took John back to her house and enrolled him in a local school, but after a few weeks she handed him back to Mimi. Various reasons have been suggested for Julia’s decision, such as Dykins' unwillingness to raise the young boy, Julia's inability to cope with the responsibility, or a punishment forced on her by Mimi and her father for "living in sin". Whatever the reason, John lived with his Aunt Mimi and her husband, George Smith, until his late teens. He was drawn to music at an early age. It was George Smith who gave John his first harmonica. As a child, Lennon was a prankster and he enjoyed getting into trouble. His mother visited him on a regular basis and bought him his first acoustic guitar in 1956. She was known as being high-spirited and impulsive, musical, and having a strong sense of humour. She taught her son how to play the banjo and ukulele. Deeply inspired by Elvis Presley, he had formed a skiffle group called the Quarrymen in 1957. He met Paul McCartney at a church fete in 1957 and asked him to join the group. The group underwent several name changes and lost original band members Pete Shotton and Eric Griffiths. While he was attending high school, an off-duty police officer knocked down and killed Lennon's mother in 1958.

His mother's death traumatized the teenage Lennon and, for the next two years, he drank heavily and frequently got into fights, consumed by a "blind rage". He was a troublemaker at school and failed all his examinations. Despite his academic shortcomings, he was accepted into the Liverpool College of Art and soon gained a reputation for disrupting classes and for being undisciplined. He failed his exam and was thrown out of the college. As a boy and young adult, he enjoyed drawing grotesque figures and cripples. Lennon’s schoolmaster thought that he could go to an art school for college since he did not get good grades in school but had artistic talent. With the addition of Paul McCartney, George Harrison, his good friend Stu Sutcliffe, and Pete Best, the Beatles were formed, although the band had not yet gelled. Sutcliffe died of a brain tumor in 1962, and Pete Best was later replaced by Richard Starkey, also known as Ringo Starr. The band played clubs in Hamburg as well as The Cavern in Liverpool. They were discovered by Brian Epstein, a record store manager, who succeeded in getting the Beatles an audition with George Martin, a producer at Parlaphone records. Epstein became their manager and cleaned up the group, replacing their black leather jackets with suits. Shortly after the Beatles’ success, after hearing about the fact that he had a sister, John was so overcome by emotion that he placed an ad in the paper, and hired detectives to look for her. They searched Norway for Victoria, and came up empty handed, and John died never having found or met her. Her adoptive name is Ingrid Pedersen. Later in life, Pedersen said she had kept her identity a secret for the sake of her adoptive parents; upon their death, she expressed interest in finding her “real family”, wanting to meet John’s sons. He married girlfriend Cynthia Powell in 1962.

In March 1966, during an interview, Lennon remarked,

"Christianity will go. It will vanish and shrink...we're more popular than Jesus now–I don't know which will go first, rock and roll or Christianity."

The comment went virtually unnoticed in England but, typically, caused great offense in America when quoted by a magazine there five months later. The furore that followed, which included the burning of Beatles records, Ku Klux Klan activity and threats against Lennon, contributed to the band's decision to stop touring. The Beatles then suffered a huge blow when Epstein died of an accidental overdose of sleeping pills on August 27, 1967. Their next effort, Apple Corps Ltd., was plagued by mismanagement. In November 1968, the Beatles' double-album The Beatles (also known as The White Album) displayed their divergent directions. By this time, Lennon's artist partnership with soon-to-be second wife Yoko Ono had begun to cause serious tensions within the group. Lennon and Ono invented a form of peace protest by staying in bed while being filmed and interviewed, and their single "Give Peace a Chance" (1969), recorded under the name "the Plastic Ono Band," became a national anthem of sorts for pacifists. Shortly after, the Beatles broke up.

In 1970, Lennon and Ono went through primal therapy in Los Angeles, which was designed to release emotional pain from early childhood. Lennon and Ono moved to New York in August 1971 and immediately embraced radical left political causes. While Lennon was recording Mind Games in 1973, he and Ono decided to separate. He and Ono were reunited shortly afterwards. On 9 October 1975 (Lennon's thirty-fifth birthday), Yoko gave birth to his other son Sean. Lennon began what would be a five-year hiatus from the music industry, during which time, he took on the role of househusband. Lennon emerged from his five-year interruption in music recording in October 1980, when he released the single "(Just Like) Starting Over". Two months later, on December 8, 1980, Lennon autographed a copy of Double Fantasy for deranged fan Mark David Chapman before leaving his home (The Dakota) with Ono for a recording session at the Record Plant to record what would be his last album, Double Fantasy. After the session, Lennon and Ono returned to their Manhattan apartment in a limousine about an hour before midnight. They exited the vehicle and walked through the archway of the building when Chapman shot Lennon twice in the back and twice in the shoulder at close range. Lennon was rushed in a police cruiser to the emergency room of Roosevelt Hospital, where he was pronounced dead on arrival. His remains were cremated; Ono scattered his ashes in New York's Central Park, where the Strawberry Fields memorial was later created. Chapman pleaded guilty to second-degree murder and was sentenced to 20-years-to-life. Chapman, who has been denied parole six times, says today that John would have forgiven him for shooting him.

Next, it’s only right I focus on his better half; the much-maligned Japanese artist who captured his imagination as well as his heart: Aquarius Yoko Ono.

STATS

birthdate: October 9, 1940

major planets:

Sun: Libra

Moon: Aquarius

Rising: Aries

Mercury: Scorpio

Venus: Virgo

Mars: Libra

Midheaven: Capricorn

Jupiter: Taurus

Saturn: Taurus

Uranus: Taurus

Neptune: Virgo

Pluto: Leo

Overall personality snapshot: He was a reasonable and idealistic person. For him, problems and dilemmas are things that can be resolved by reason, discussion and, at the last resort, by law. Although society, elevated principles, and social institutions mattered to him, perhaps even more than the individual people who go to make them up and run them, for him it was vital that he lived the principles that he held in such high esteem. This made him something of a visionary and prone to set himself up for disappointment, for nobody – including himself – could be as ideal as he would like. Equality, liberty, fraternity was probably his credo, and no matter how impractical he might have been, his friends always gleaned the good intentions that inform his actions and behaviour. Although he could be charming, magnetic and witty, he willingly brought up contentious subjects and spoke his mind with a kind of serene frankness.

He looked at all sides of any issue, and he brought a lively interest and enviable clarity to all social interchange. Even when he had strong views, he did not really want to rock the boat too much, and this made him an ideal diplomat. Friendships were enormously important to him, yet because he hated upsetting anyone, he found it difficult to be friends with anyone with whom he could not be totally frank and open. The challenge he faced again and again is how to keep the harmony and connectedness, without sacrificing his autonomy. Because he was such an equable, rational person, he easily felt threatened by powerful emotions such as hate and jealousy. They felt like enemies of the intelligent world order he sought, and yet paradoxically he was often attracted to emotional types. Emotions tended to play hide-and-seek with him, pulling him into a merry chase that feels both exhilarating and frustrating. Emotional intrigue actually fascinated him, and he allowed it to feed his instinct for self-dramatization. Whilst all the while pretending to figure out why someone could behave so irrationally, he was really getting a buzz and, if inclined towards the literary arts, planning his next plot.

He had a sturdy, muscular frame with a lively, attractive energetic face. He had intense and direct eye contact with others, and may well have been told off for staring at people as a child because of this. He was probably of medium height and could show amazing feats of strength when necessary. He met life in a straightforward and energetic manner. He often expressed himself through dramatic outbursts, many times in anger or even other forms of self-destructive behaviour. He held a lot of hidden rage and passion within him, which had to be released. He followed his instincts and beliefs with great dedication, but few people really knew what he was up to until after his demise. This is because he liked to keep his motivations a secret. He needed his career to be strong, solid and enduring. He knew that he must work hard to achieve the status and respect that he desired, and although there may well have been obstacles in his path, his dedication and step-by-step progress led to success. When dealing with colleagues, he could place strong demands on them. He was a person who wanted a first-class life-style, and who treasured his possessions. He needed to be able to feel materially secure, and he probably gained wealth through sheer industry, because he was patient, steady and confident in this area of his life. However, he may also have been a little too trusting when it came to money, presuming too easily that there was always more where it came from. His acquired wealth may be generously distributed, both on himself, for he was self-indulgent, and on others, because he was vulnerable to sob stories.

Although he was an extremely creative person, he wasn’t as impressed by beauty as other people were. He could be quite stubborn and conservative in his outlook. His physical and practical affairs may have brought his many difficulties and challenges, and there were likely financial delays in the working side of his life. As a worker, he was methodical, controlled and very efficient. Although he tended to be reserved and suspicious in emotional relationships, once he felt sure that he was loved, there was little that he wouldn’t do for his partner. He belonged to a determined, practical and stubborn generation that was interested in finding out new and different ways to organize things. As a member of the Taurus Uranus generation, he also found it difficult to accept change and disruptions in his life, unless he fully understood and agreed with the reasons why. When he did take the plunge, he did so in an all or nothing way. As part of the Virgo Neptune generation, he had a practical and materialistic frame of mind, which was critical of standards of religion and government. Members of this generation tried to restore order where chaos and injustice ruled, although sometimes their aims and objectives were misunderstood. He preferred to gain fame as a solo performer than by working as part of a team. As a Leo Plutonian, he wanted freedom in his relationships and demanded the loyalty of his friends as a right. This generation was egotistical, but they also had the will to win. As a member of this generation, he wanted power over his own life and was prepared to challenge established structures. This generation brought about a revolution in forms of entertainment, recreational activities and leisure time, as well as attitudes towards children, as is evidenced in the disparity of his treatment toward his sons Julian and Sean.

Love/sex life: He wanted sex to be real, tangible, and easily accessible. For this reason he was prone to divide his sexual contacts between those that served his physical needs and those that involved his search for the perfect relationship. His approach to the former was practical and matter-of-fact while he would look to the latter with dreamy fascination. This dual approach certainly did not make sense to everyone. Many people, including some potential partners, were apt to call him insensitive, along with a few other, less printable names. His attitude toward sex was essentially passive and downright lazy. Whether he was looking for love or just a good time he was easily led, emotionally lazy, and sometimes opportunistic. This lack of initiative made it difficult for him to find the perfect love that was always his utmost goal. Relationships of this sort require great energy and determination and there was a part of him that would always balk at such extraordinary effort. But if he was lucky enough to find a partner who was willing to do most or even all the work for him, he could be a lover well worth keeping. Many Beatles fans objected when Lennon paired himself with the strong-willed Yoko Ono but Ono was just the Mars in Libra ideal Lennon needed and she was willing to take control of the relationship.

minor asteroids and points:

North Node: Libra

Lilith: Pisces

Vertex: Libra

Fortune: Capricorn

East Point: Aries

His North Node in Libra dictated that he needed to move away from a tendency to see the world only in terms of himself, and develop a more outward-looking view. It would have been good if he took other people’s needs and desires into consideration to a greater degree. His Lilith in Pisces was a powerful muse in his life as an innovative male thinker; he was dangerously attracted to women who were natural born mystics and cultivated their own myth. His Vertex in Libra, 6th house dictated that he longed for a union of souls that was based on a model of pure peace and justice. Images come to mind of a mythical life on Venus, the planet of love, where there is never a discordant beat between lovers, but rather, continual harmony even if played in the minor chords. Physical lust was certainly a necessary aspect of two beings eternally intertwined, but the platonic component far outweighed it in importance. He had an attitude of duty, obligation and sacrifice when it came to heartfelt interactions. He could become hypochondriacal or martyristic to get the love so desperately wanted. There was a need for others to appreciate the sincerity of his intentions, to the daily tasks he executed in a conscientious and caring way and for others to know that his actions, no matter how routine they may seem, were based on devoted love.

His Part of Fortune in Capricorn and Part of Spirit in Cancer dictated that his destiny lay in creating practical and long-lasting achievements. Success came through hard work, determination, responsibility and perseverance. Fulfillment came from observing his progress through life and seeing it take a form and structure that will outlive him. His soul’s purpose guided him towards building security in his life, both emotional and material. He felt spiritual connections and the spark of the divine within his home and family. East Point in Aries dictated he was more likely to identify with the need to be free, independent, on his own, expressing when, where, how he wished. He needed to learn to balance his need for freedom with his need for closeness, and he needed to move towards a comfortable blend: he did not have all the power; other parties didn’t have all the power. Sometimes he got his way; sometimes they got their way; when this East Point is evolved, many times both compromise, harmonize and meet in the middle.

elemental dominance:

air

earth

He was communicative, quick and mentally agile, and he liked to stir things up. He was likely a havoc-seeker on some level. He was oriented more toward thinking than feeling. He carried information and the seeds of ideas. Out of balance, he lived in his head and could be insensitive to the feelings of others. But at his best, he helped others form connections in all spheres of their daily lives. He was a practical, reliable man and could provide structure and protection. He was oriented toward practical experience and thought in terms of doing rather than thinking, feeling, or imagining. Could be materialistic, unimaginative, and resistant to change. But at his best, he provided the practical resources, analysis, and leadership to make dreams come true.

modality dominance:

cardinal

He was happiest when he was doing anything new (in his case, it was beginning new partnerships), and he loved to begin new ventures. He enjoyed the challenge of claiming territory. He tended to be an initiator—and a bit territorial as well. Also, he had a tendency to start more things than he could possibly finish.

house dominants:

6th

1st

11th

His workplace in respect to his colleagues, and the type of work he did as well as his attitude to it was emphasized in his life. His everyday life and routine and the way he handled it was highlighted. How he went about being of service to others in a practical way, and the way he adjusted to necessities of mundane existence was a theme in his life. Also, how he aspired to refine and better himself was of importance as well. His personality, disposition and temperament is highlighted in his life. The manner in which he expressed himself and the way he approached other people is also highlighted. The way he approached new situations and circumstances contributed to show how he set about his life’s goals. The general state of his health is also shown, as well as his early childhood experiences defining the rest of his life. Globally aware, he put emphasis on his friends and acquaintances, as well as the influence of groups and societies on his life. His general hopes and aspirations revealed themselves, as well as how well he functioned as part of a system. This extended to how he manifested his creativity against the background of the community.

planet dominants:

Mars

Saturn

Sun

He was aggressive, individualistic and had a high sexual drive. He believed in action and took action. His survival instinct was strong. He wanted to take himself to the limit—and then surpass that limit, which he often did. He ultimately refused to compromise his integrity by following another’s agenda. He didn’t compare herself to other people and didn’t want to dominate or be dominated. He simply wanted to be free to follow his own path, whatever it was. He believed in the fact that lessons in life were sometimes harsh, that structure and foundation was a great issue in his life, and he had to be taught through through experience what he needed in order to grow. He paid attention to limitations he had and had to learn the rules of the game in this physical reality. He tended to have a practical, prudent outlook. He also likely held rigid beliefs. He had vitality and creativity, as well as a strong ego and was authoritarian and powerful. He had strong leadership qualities, he definitely knew who he was, and he had tremendous will. He met challenges and believed in expanding his life.

sign dominants:

Libra

Taurus

Aries

He loved beauty in all its guises—art, literature, classical music, opera, mathematics, and the human body. He usually was a team player who enjoyed debate but not argument. He was, at her best, an excellent strategist and a master at the power of suggestion. Even though he was likely a courteous, amiable person, he was definitely not a pushover. He tried to use diplomacy and intelligence to get what he wanted. His stubbornness and determination kept him around for the long haul on any project or endeavour. He was incredibly patient, singular in his pursuit of goals, and determined to attain what he wanted. Although he lacked versatility, he compensated for it by enduring whatever he had to in order to get what he wanted. He was bold, courageous, and resourceful. He always seemed to know what he believed, what he wanted from life, and where he was going. He could be dynamic and aggressive (sometimes, to a fault) in pursuing his goals—whatever they might be. Could be argumentative, lacked tact, and had a bad temper. On the other hand, his anger rarely lasted long, and he could be warm and loving with those he cared about.

Read more about him under the cut:

John Winston (later Ono) Lennon was born on October 9, 1940, in Liverpool, England, to Julia Lennon (née Stanley) and Alfred Lennon, a merchant seaman. He was raised by his mother's older sister Mimi Smith. In the mid-1950s, he formed his first band, The Quarrymen (after Quarry Bank High School, which he attended) who, with the addition of Paul McCartney, Richard Starkey (Ringo Starr), and George Harrison, later became The Beatles. After some years of performing in Liverpool and Hamburg, Germany, "Beatlemania" erupted in England and Europe in 1963 after the release of their singles "Love Me Do" and "Please Please Me". That same year, John's first wife Cynthia Lennon welcomed their only son Julian Lennon, named after John's mother. The next year the Beatles flew to America to appear on The Ed Sullivan Show (1948) (aka The Ed Sullivan Show), and Beatlemania spread worldwide. Queen Elizabeth II granted all four Beatles M.B.E. medals in 1965, for import revenues from their record sales; John returned his four years later, as part of an antiwar statement. John and the Beatles continued to tour and perform live until 1966, when protests over his calling the Beatles phenomenon "more popular than Jesus" and the frustrations of touring made the band decide to quit the road. They devoted themselves to studio work, recording and releasing albums such as "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band", "Magical Mystery Tour" and the "White Album". Instead of appearing live, the band began making their own "pop clips" (an early term for music videos), which were featured on television programs of the time. In the late 1960s John began performing and making albums with his second wife Yoko Ono, as the Beatles began to break up. Their first two albums, "Two Virgins" and "Life With The Lions", were experimental and flops by Beatles standards, while their "Wedding Album" was almost a vanity work, but their live album "Live Peace In Toronto" became a Top Ten hit, at the end of the 1960s. In the early 1970s John and Yoko continued to record together, making television appearances and performing at charity concerts. After the release of John's biggest hit, "Imagine", they moved to the US, where John was nearly deported because of his political views (a late-'60s conviction for possession of hashish in the U.K. was the excuse given by the government), but after a four-year legal battle he won the right to stay. In the midst of this, John and Yoko separated for over a year; John lived in Los Angeles with personal assistant May Pang, while Yoko dated guitarist David Spinozza. When John made a guest appearance at Elton John's Thanksgiving 1974 concert, Yoko was in the audience, and surprised John backstage. They reconciled in early 1975, and Yoko soon became pregnant. After the birth of their son Sean Lennon, John settled into the roles of "househusband" and full-time daddy, while Yoko became his business manager; both appeared happy in their new life together. After a five-year break from music and the public eye, they made a comeback with their album "Double Fantasy", but within weeks of their re-emergence, Lennon was murdered on the evening of December 8, 1980 by Mark David Chapman, a one-time Beatles fan angry and jealous over John's ongoing career, who fatally shot Lennon four times in the back outside his apartment building, The Dakota, as Lennon was returning from a recording session. Within minutes after being shot, John Lennon was dead at age 40. His violent death was a sudden and tragic end to the life of a talented singer and musician who wanted to make a difference in the world. (x)

#john lennon #star analyses #tragic stars #libra #astrology #long ass post #mine

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imonthinice · 3 years

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The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 8/?

Word Count: 1.6k

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

This one is shorter because of the last one’s length.

Hi everyone! By the time you see this, I will probably be out and therefore cannot update the other parts with this one’s link, so don’t worry about that if you notice it.

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Jason’s Trauma and his Death, Lightning, 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)

Going on day 5 of knowing each other, Jason and Y/N would spend the day apart. Why? Because they gave each other the chance to have family time, Jason got it by playing around with his baby siblings, playing Assassin.

Fluff Head canon came from frownyalfred on Tumblr, who wrote about Jason playing Assassin with his brothers

He would go running through the halls playing the game that he and Dick knew all too well, it had been the only ‘no contact’ game they were allowed to play at a summer camp Bruce had sent them to all those years ago when they weren’t adults with a bunch of other siblings, and girlfriends. But here they were, explaining the game to their younger siblings while Alfred and Bruce hung out with Barbara, who wished she could play, but was paralyzed.

Everyone missed playing games with her like they used to, but with the video game consoles in the house they did transfer a lot of their gaming to online so they could relive memories with Barbs. It was bittersweet, and everyone remembered when she became paralyzed like it was yesterday, but she always wanted them to play games like they used to, with or without her.

Jason admired his, hopefully, one day older sister for how she treated her disability, like it was a gift, not something that impacted her everyday life and made her have to hang up the cloak of Batgirl.

But running around chasing after Dick, because of course, he got Dick, the universe wanted them to play again, was something he missed so much. They hadn’t had so much of this time, family time, ever since they all became vigilantes, and they never realized how much they missed the thrill of running around with each other.

Jason ended up getting Dick and throwing him out of the game, calling it a ‘selfless act of brotherhood so you can hang out with your girl’ and they both laughed at it. Titus, Damien’s dog, ended up barking up a storm at Jason when he killed Dick, like the big dog was rooting for Dick to win the tournament.

“Down boy! It’s a game!” Jason would whisper-yell at his dog.

“Yeah! Good boy, Titus! Get him!”

“No!” Jason would yell while running throughout the house, Titus on his heels. Passing by Alfred, Bruce and Barbara, where Titus would stop and go lay at Bruce’s feet, but Jason didn’t know that.

Jason would end up coming in just 10 minutes later, with a green slash on his neck. Tim, who had pulled Cass but killed her, Cass, who had pulled Jason. Tim now had two kills in the game and both were to people who could have easily overpowered him.

“Jase! Welcome to the land of the dead,” Dick greeted him.

“God dammnit I’ve already been here,” Jason whined in a joke.

“You and your ‘I died pity me’ jokes,” Barbara said.

“It’s called a coping mechanism, Barbs. And hi dad, Alfred,” Jason said as he waved slightly at both of them, Alfred waved back and Bruce nodded at him.

“You could just to go therapy, Jase,” Barbara said, seeming concerned for someone who she considered her baby brother. She remember when he came into the Manor, she was older than him, sure . But he had nightmares and she and Dick would switch between who would sleep at his door at night, they both had terrible backs until the nightmares calmed down. Jason never knew they did this.

It also happened when he was resurrected, but the nightmares were worse and he’d wake all sweaty and upset. There were too many nights where batkids would be in Jason’s bed with him from 12am to when Alfred would greet them in the morning. The nightmares had slowed down a lot in the past few years with the introduction of his Goddaughter into his life, but they still came by to remind him of what happened.

He didn’t talk about it much. They would always try to edge him on about about really happened, but he was stubborn. It made sense, sure, trauma is trauma. But they all wanted to help him get better. It hurt them all that he was hurting and they didn’t know how to help him get through it.

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

Y/N would sit on her bed that morning and finally finished organizing her criminal psychology and regular psychology notes when she came across her printed copy of Dr. Barry Allen’s dissertation she had studied so hard. She found it so weird that she was so close to someone who she looked up to in the field while also being so far in the same breath.

She didn't dote on it for long, she stocked it away with her forensics notes in their place. This, the relationship she had with Jason that intertwined her with so many people, was something she was getting used to by the minute, but it was never something she’d get fully used to as time goes on.

She would put on a JCS - Criminal Psychology video in the background as she worked and tried to make her journal look nicer when Jason texted her,

Good morning. He said.

Good morning :) She said back.

I just lost a game against a 16 year old.

Huh?

My brothers and 2 of my sisters were playing Assassins with me right? Well my 16 year old brother, Tim, he ended up getting the better of me and beat me.

Oh! So you suck!

What!? No, I’m literally so cool what do you mean? He said, it clearly had sarcasm undertones to it, so Y/N wasn’t worried if she offended him with saying he sucked.

Oh yeah? Then why’d you lose?

Well, I killed Dick.

Okay so you didn’t lose, Dick lost.

It started raining a little bit, the sounds of it hitting lightly against her window, and she felt at peace. It was never hard for her to feel peace when she was by herself. She only had one roommate because she liked the silence, to be alone to collect her own thoughts in her head.

Her parents said it was because she probably had underlying mental illness that they never had the money to diagnose. She agreed. But she still didn’t have the chance to do it.

Jason and her deserved so much more than what the world have given them up to this point, so when they found each other it was, in a way, the universe saying ‘I’m sorry, you deserve this’ and with each passing day it made the pain they had both felt in their lives just a little bit more tolerable.

No, I guess Dick sucks at the game more than me.

Where’d you even get the concept for that game?

Dick and I used to play it at a Summer Camp before we got kicked out.

For playing the game?

No, for being unruly children.

You seem like you were a handful back in the day.

I was, I was the worst kid to raise, my dad has a shirt that says ‘Proud parent of a kid who is sometimes an asshole but that’s OK’ and he wears it all the time.

What a dad moment. Don’t tell my father that shirt exists, he’ll get one for my mum and himself to represent my sister and I.

Were you an unruly child as well?

I was a troublemaker. Getting into arguments with my authoritative figures about dress codes, rules, why girls couldn’t carry chairs, literally anything that was unequal, I was at their throats about it.

I mean, as you should. My older sister, Barbara, and my younger sisters, Stephanie and Cassie, they would like that about you.

I feel like in someway I’ve won over every part of your family.

The rain would get more violent as time went on. Strikes and hits of lightning would strike all around the city, hitting those gargoyles on every building, she always figured they were decorative, but A/N explained that their horns were made out of copper so people wouldn’t get struck by lightning. Bruce Wayne actually made that a thing, A/N said.

Y/N got a message from the dance competition that she signed up to, turns out, California was hit with a hurricane and most people evacuated. No one was allowed in or out. She guessed weather was being funky everywhere. It sucked, but she already was wishing she could spend time at home instead of out in the world.

A feeling she hated.

She would spend the rest of the day on and off the phone with Jason while it stormed. She would go to bed early that night.

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

Jason slipped on his vigilante uniform, the Red Hood was going to be on patrol over this night, stormy or not, it was his duty and he knew that. Did he want to go? Yes. He was killing for some action and he was going with Dick. They would probably have some ‘Bro Time’ which Jason wanted.

Even if it was silence, having Dick nearby him meant enough and gave him peace of mind.

He grabbed his guns and loaded them while packing a few extra magazines in his belt, when Dick placed a hand on his shoulder, “You have to be careful tonight, Jase,” Dick said as he gulped down tears, “Just come back to me alive if you break off from me, okay?”

“Alive but bruised,” Jason joked.

“I’m serious. I can’t lose you again and tonight is going to be massively dangerous.”

“You won’t.”

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years

Text

Phantom Children Ch. 6

Hi guys! I'm back <3 (also, I'm currently looking for alpha/beta readers for Phantom Children, so if you're interested, feel free to shoot me a message!)

In Which: Danny Attempts to get Answers, Bruce Learns, and Dick Finally Learns What's Inside the Door that Doesn't Exist

AO3 | Prologue | 5 | [ 6 ] | 7

DANNY IS KNOCKED DOWN three, four, eight times on the ice. Each time made his back ache, his bones bruised and tired, and his mind burning with embarrassment and a drive to lash out. But each time he gets back up. Each time he lasts a little bit longer against Talia.

The ice still shifts, cracks and rumbles with every wrong move. Danny learned to roll with it. Move on light feet but attack with a firm stance, gauge which parts of the ice are stable and which should be avoided. Multi-tasking has never been Danny’s strong suit, but he’s good at learning and learning quickly.

Talia corrected his form as much as she beat him down. Exploited every one of his openings until he learned to defend them and praised him whenever he managed to pull one over her. The League’s martial arts was the holy amalgamation between almost every single fighting style there is, mashed and refined to perfection to become almost unpredictable to the untrained. A vast improvement to Danny’s previous ‘fuck around and see what works’ brawling and had the added benefit of meshing together with his spontaneity.

“You are doing well, Daniel,” Talia said as she sheathed her sword, hand resting just above her hip. “You have improved greatly in such a short time, as I have expected.”

It takes every ounce of Danny’s superhuman energy to not collapse to his knees, his every breath a ragged shudder as he tries to get his breathing under control. “Still can’t beat you, though.”

“Very few can boast that feat.”

“I’m not exactly sure if that’s supposed to make me feel any better or not. Do I get my prize at least?”

Tahlia tossed her braid over one shoulder with a laugh. “Come, then, let us rest in the caves. The sun is to set soon and we must make camp before we freeze to death.”

“Hypothermia is so last season. I’m way too cool for that.”

He didn’t know whether to be disappointed that Tahlia didn’t react to his pun. It was pretty clever, in his opinion.

('Puns are the lowest form of comedy,' said mind-Jazz.

Says the one who named the Box Ghost the ‘Crate Creep.’

'That’s alliteration, not a pun.')

It was kind of pathetic that even his mind-version of Jazz was smarter than him.

“What would you like to know first?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sarcasm dripped from Danny’s voice. He sheathed his sword and let it hang loose at his side. “Maybe how old this mysterious brother of mine is?” Ancients, his life was weird enough already, it wasn’t supposed to sound like the B-plot to a bad soap opera.

“Damian is younger than you by a little over four years. He will turn eleven this year.”

“Huh. Never been an older brother before.”

“Perhaps you might have been, if circumstances had been different.”

Cryptic. Great. Danny stepped over a particularly large crack in the ice and scampered over to solid ground. “You gotta give me more than that. What’s he like?”

“Prideful,” she said. “But skilled enough to warrant it. He was raised like a prince—as how you should have been.”

“And he lives with…our dad?”

“Yes. In America.” The cave was deep enough to shield them from the worst of the eventual mountain winds. Tahlia had already started building a campfire with equipment from her knapsack, embers eating away and growing into a steady flame. He sat down, legs crossed, beside the fire, hands tucked beneath his armpits.

He bit his lip, a question forming in his mind. “Do…do we have the same dad?”

Tahlia looked up at him. “Of course. Only your father has had the privilege of being called my beloved, and only he is worthy enough to have sired my children.”

Once night fell, it fell quickly. Blanketing as far as Danny could see from the mouth of the cave in a thick darkness. Snow fell from the skies in thick tufts and covered their footsteps.

“Does he—do they know about me?”

“No, they do not.”

“And you probably aren’t going to tell them anything about me, if you could help it.”

“That is very perceptive of you, habeebi.”

“You won’t tell me anything more about them, will you?”

“In due time, I will.”

Danny blew part of his fringe away from his face. Figures.

Despite the ever-present niggling at the back of his mind, Bruce had yet to see what was in the flash drive. The weeks since his strange meeting with Vlad Masters suddenly exploded with criminal activity with the recent breakout in Arkham and the brewings of another gang war in the shadows of Gotham’s paved streets. It was all hands-on deck. And Bruce, whether as Batman or Wayne, had always prioritized Gotham and its citizens over anything else.

The flash drive remained on his person despite the crisis, tucked away in one of the sturdier compartments of his utility belt to prevent the data inside from becoming damaged. Sometimes he found his hands gravitating towards it, fingers brushing against the button that would release the mystery from its confines before he realized what he was doing and steeled himself. Hands fisted to his side and attention forcibly directed elsewhere.

Eventually, the rogues were placed back into Arkham, and Gotham let out a shuddered breath of relief as it remained standing for another day.

Most of the family were out on a light patrol, cleaning up the remains of the breakout and helping where they can. Jason and Dick bickering over the comms whilst Barbara laughed in her clocktower.

(“It’s not that bad.”

"‘It’s not that bad’—shut the fuck up.” Jason spat. Bruce could hear him revving his bike. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? Certified Grade A idiot. B’s gonna kill you.”

He could hear Dick roll his eyes. “Sure, pile it all on, Jaybird. Blame the victim.”

"It was your fault.”

“It’s not my fault I didn’t see it there!”

"You tripped and got a concussion. From a stick. A. Stick.”

“Can we please just leave that out of the report?” Dick groaned. Barbara laughed. “Oh god.”

“Richard motherfucking John Grayson. I swear if you vomit on me then—”

“I’m not gonna vomit on you! You just turned the corner a little too fast. It’s nice to see you care though.”

"Fuck no, I just don’t wanna smell like regurgitated cereal.”)

Damian was benched from a patrol. Their last conflict with Poison Ivy ended with Damian sticking a bad landing and twisting his ankle. He dealt with it with as much grace as can be expected. Meaning that he spent the last few days sulking as he caught up on his missed schoolwork and shooting daggers at everyone else who came back from patrol.

Bruce flicked the flash drive open and plugged it into the computer. The flash drive contained only a single folder dated six months ago.

He clicked it, and a news headline popped up.

LOCAL TEEN DIES AFTER DRIVING OFF CLIFF

Beneath it, a picture. Blue eyes. Black hair. A familiar face.

Blood pounded in Bruce’s ears. He could hear nothing except a sharp gasp from Damian behind him.

When Dick and Jason arrived at the batcave, it was to an eerie silence. Not that it was usually loud, only that Bruce spent most of his free time down in the cave and Dick had come to expect hearing some signs of him around. Typing on keys, the clicking of a mouse, the heavy thuds of a fist meeting a punching bag or a training dummy, etcetera, etcetera. Or maybe even Alfred cleaning up around the cave, feeding the bats, or restocking their med bay.

(Dick, it turned out, didn’t have a concussion. Probably. Not a severe one anyway. What mattered most was that he managed to convince Jason to have dinner at the Manor. Alfred was making a tarte tatin for dessert tonight and those were absolutely to die for. )

One of Tim’s cases took him to the other side of Gotham. The only person in the cave was Damian, who was staring agape at the batcomputer.

“Why the hell is the demon spawn looking at old pictures of Bruce? We get it. They look alike.

“Uh, Dami? What’s up?”

Damian snapped his mouth shut. “I believe it might be best if you asked father that, Grayson.” Despite his clipped tone, there seemed to be little anger in his voice. His proud shoulders were hunched over on the chair, eyes trained on his lap.

He looked so small.

Damian clucked his tongue. “He’s upstairs, if you need him. So is Pennyworth.”

Dick shot a glance at Jason who raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re up golden boy. Whatever the fuck the old man’s problem is this time, I’m not dealing with it.”

Dick sighed. “Fine.”

There was a door in Wayne Manor that didn’t exist.

When Dick was a child and recently adopted by Bruce Wayne, one of the first things he did was explore the manor. It’s the prerogative of every child that somehow found themselves in a large mansion—even more so given the castle-like exteriors of Wayne Manor. All castles have secret passages, and if the Batcave lay in the subterranean depths below, then surely the manor proper must have its own secrets.

Dick would tumble and cartwheel along the hallways, opening any and every single door he came across. A lot of them were just empty bedrooms or unused parlors and sitting rooms; the furniture covered by white sheets to keep the dust away. Alfred was probably magic, but even he can’t keep the entirety of the manor dust free.

The majority of the unused rooms were unlocked.

Except for one.

It was a room in the west wing, on the second floor. A couple doors down from where Bruce’s and Dick’s were. Why it was locked, Dick never found out. But he was curious since it was the only room on that floor that remained shut.

When he asked Alfred about it, the old butler only said that it was an unused storage room they preferred to keep locked just in case. When he asked Bruce about it, he’d be quick to change the subject. Usually something Batman related. Which, well, always worked, because it was Batman related. And Dick, young and spry and itching to fly under Batman’s wings, would quickly forget about that curious little mystery in favor of punching bad guys in the face and flipping over rooftops.

At some point that locked door quietly disappeared, leaving a blank expanse of wallpaper and a decorative vase where it once stood. It was never brought up again. And Dick slowly forgot that it was ever there in the first place.

Until now.

The wooden table and vase were shoved off to the side. Wallpaper sliced away to reveal the lines of a doorway. The door, covered in its faint damask wallpaper, was kicked open, the wood around the bolt splintered and cracked. He could hear voices—Alfred’s and Bruce’s—speaking softly on the other side.

He pressed his back against the wall and kept his breathing quiet.

“Three times, Alfred.” Bruce’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Three times she’s done this to me.”

“Master Bruce…”

“I don’t—I don’t understand why—” Bruce choked, swallowing a shuddered breath. “Damian, I can understand. Jason, I can too. But…This? I—” Bruce suddenly quieted. Dick knew the jig was up.

He unlatched himself from the wall and slowly slid through the once-hidden-door, a hand kept on the frame. “Um. Hi, Bruce? Alfred?” The words fell flat, stilted. Dick winced as he said them. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but, uh…” He trailed off the second he registered what was in the room.

It was large, as so many rooms in the manor were. The room was covered in peeling green wallpaper with faded pictures of baby deer and owls and other woodland creatures prancing about. There was a dresser on one wall. A shelf filled with little picture books and stuffed animals on the other. A brown teddy bear had fallen on its face on one of the shelves.

In the middle—where Bruce was hunched over—was a crib. The wood streaked and aged with time, the beddings within pristine and untouched, if not dusty. Hanging overhead was a mobile with little animals dangling on a string.

“Worry not Master Dick. It is good that you are here since it will inevitably involve the rest of the family at some point.”

Dick nodded absentmindedly, trying to lock eyes with his guardian. “B? What’s—what’s going on?” Dick took one step deeper into the room. “The pictures in the cave. I thought they were you since they were too old to be Damian—” Bruce’s hands on the crib’s railing flinched.

Dick’s breath hitched.

“They’re…not your photos, are they.”

Bruce took a deep breath in, the lines of his shoulders tense. “No. They’re not.”

In their line of work, the answer could have been anything. Clones, magical doppelgangers, alternate universe counterparts, hell, even just someone’s genetic code being coincidentally similar to another person. But…this room, this nursery, pointed towards only one conclusion.

“Who is he, Bruce?”

Bruce angled his head towards Dick, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. “He’s my son, Dick.

“He’s my son.”

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

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redhoodieone · 3 years

Text

Welcome Home

A/N: Hi everyone! This is an old fic that I’m re-posting for those who want to read it. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language and Smut.

I knew my family was different the moment I found out my adoptive father was Batman. I was just a ten-year-old girl when I snuck down the stairs at midnight for a drink of water and spotted Batman leaving a trail of blood from his study and calling out for Alfred for help. The moment our eyes locked, Bruce instantly knew that I was clearly aware of his secret. He had also confessed it was him who saved me from a shootout that my parents were involved in and that it was him, as Batman. I felt I owed Bruce my own life for saving me, and I vowed to keep my father’s secret and pray that he would return home safely every night back to me.

It didn’t help that I soon discovered my adoptive older brother Dick Grayson was Robin. Not only did I have to keep his secret as well, but it made it more impossible to not have a crush on him. I mean, Dick has such a charming personality, beautiful baby blue eyes, and a devilish smile that can make any girl crawl on her hands and knees. And that ass…

I later found myself becoming the second Robin once Dick left to assume his own identity, Nightwing. Bruce trusted me, and he saw potential in me the second I told him I couldn’t see myself being a hero forever. Perhaps he never really wanted me to be his sidekick and figured if I got it out of my system that I could resume my life as a sixteen-year-old and do normal teenager activities. As if my life was normal anyways.

But things changed as soon as I was finally embracing myself as a hero. Bruce had taken in a new kid, Jason Todd. He was a troublemaker, a rebel, and a mysterious kid, who had never even spoken to me unless he had to. I don’t think my age helped the situation either; I was a couple of years older than him and he may not have seen me as an equal. But of course, the dark haired, icy blue eyed, bad attitude boy was given the Robin title, and I was removed because of a patrol-gone-wrong situation.

Stupid Harley Quinn and her baseball bat. Who knew one hit to my knee could bench me for two months (Alfred added an additional five months of rest).

Then the unthinkable happened. The second Robin was killed by the Joker. Jason Todd’s death put Bruce into a depression, and he swore he would never put another kid’s life in danger. Our father and daughter relationship broke apart before my very eyes. I spent my remaining teenage years in the mansion isolated, except for Alfred’s loving company.

I had graduated high school on time and I quickly decided to go to Gotham University to escape the Bat family. Before I moved out, I discovered Bruce had taken in another kid, Tim Drake, who was currently the new Robin. Was I hurt? Of course, I felt I was somehow replaced. Would I miss the Bat family? Maybe. Maybe not.

I did in fact wish the new younger Robin good luck. When Tim looked up at me, his light blue eyes were so innocent and frightened about me leaving him behind. I didn’t know why he would be so upset about me leaving; wouldn’t he want all of Bruce’s attention without me hanging around the mansion?

Now I’m twenty-one-years-old, and I’m still a student at Gotham University. Alfred had just called and informed me Bruce wants me back home.

As I sit in a taxi while anxiously waiting to pull up to Wayne Manor, I honestly don’t know why Bruce wants me back at home. Alfred has kept me up to date about the Bat family incidents and activities I have missed out those few years such as:

Dick Grayson becoming a womanizer (I saw it coming) and how he’s juggling working as a police officer and Nightwing. He’s still the favorite and golden child in Bruce’s eyes.

Jason Todd is back from the dead, and he’s currently operating his own team: Red Hood and the Outlaws (who knew he was leadership material underneath that thick skull of his?).

Tim Drake is Red Robin (does the fast food chain restaurant know about his superhero name?), and he’s currently assisting the Teen Titans when necessary while simultaneously aiding Bruce with detective work.

Damian Wayne is Bruce Wayne’s unknown biological child. I think he’s about fifteen-years-old now; from what I remember the last time I spoke to Alfred. I met Damian once, when Bruce asked me to meet him once Talia al Ghul practically dropped him off at Bruce’s doorstep. The boy was a little shit: bratty, stuck up, and insensitive. Even though he is the spitting image of Bruce, minus the different colored eyes (Bruce has blue and Damian’s are green), Damian claims he is set to take over the cowl when Bruce is either dead or done. God help us all…

But I still can’t figure out why I am needed back home. Is Alfred sick? Is Bruce dying after fighting all these years? Is it one of my brothers?

I jump in surprise once the taxi comes to a hard stop. After paying the man, I grab my duffel bag and I climb the front steps that I suddenly remember jumping off them as a kid. Alfred scolded me many times, and I still did it because being bad was fun.

I scoff loudly, and I jump down the five steps that would have given Alfred a heart attack. Maybe I haven’t changed as much as I thought.

I find the wooden front door unlocked, which is odd considering Alfred always makes sure to lock it. As a matter of fact, Alfred hasn’t greeted me like he always does when I come home. Where is Alfred?

After I unwrap my scarf, I pull my hoodie over my head to be more comfortable in the warm house. Sadly, I forgot to do laundry yesterday, so I came home in just my black yoga pants and red tank top. What would Alfred say?

I kick off my shoes and walk to the kitchen barefoot. Pulling my long hair into a ponytail, I notice a note on the counter that’s written for me. I unfold the note and stare at the nicest, well done cursive handwriting only one man can do here.

Dear Lady Y/N,

I sincerely apologize for not being there to greet you properly. Master Bruce had wanted me to take my holiday to London early, and Lord knows I can use a week to myself after stitching up countless wounds, tidying up bedrooms and Bat caves, and playing messenger between you and your father. I have a cooked roast with garlic mash potatoes in the refrigerator if you are hungry. Do heat it up and perhaps show your father and brothers how to use the microwave.

I dearly love you and the boys,

Love Alfred Pennyworth

P.S.

Look into the highest cabinet above the refrigerator, and you will discover a jar of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies just for you.

I grin widely, and before I can turn around and find the cookies, I’m stuck between the counter and a tall, hard body behind me. I freeze.

“Welcome home, Y/N. I missed you so much,” Bruce whispers in my ear. I can feel his hot breath above my shoulder and neck. The familiar smell of his expensive cologne fills my nostrils. His large hands rub my legs and grip onto my hips very hard. “Did you miss me?”

“H-hi dad. W-what are you doing?” I ask softly, but I know it came out like a whisper. One of his hands is holding my waist, while the other caresses my abdomen. It feels strange considering Bruce is supposed to be my father, and we shouldn’t be this close or even touching each other. But a part of me wants to keep feeling his hands on me and see what he does next.

“Holding you. Smelling you. Touching you,” he answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He breathes harder when I press my backside against his front by accident. “It appears you want this too. Am I correct, Y/N?”

His hand pulls down my yoga pants enough, so he can reach into my underwear. Bruce continues to breathe hard from his nose when his fingers find my core. His thumb rubs fast circles on my clit, while he pushes two fingers inside me. I bite my bottom lip to stop a loud moan from coming out of me, but he appears he’ll have none of that. He stops fingering me.

“You better be loud, or I won’t let you cum, Y/N.”

Before I can beg him to keep going, he turns my face, so I can look him in those cold, pale blue eyes. “Please tell me you’re…not a virgin.” Bruce’s face is twisted in pleasure from just fingering me, but I can tell his lips are trembling and there’s a soft but pleading look in his eyes. This must hurt him as much as it’s hurting me.

“I-I’m not,” I confess, and wonder if he would change his mind if I said I was.

“Who was it with?” Bruce demands. He kisses along my shoulder to my neck before he bites on my soft spot. I hiss in pain and I grind into him again.

“Josh Mitchell. I was sixteen,” I answer harshly.

“Was he any good?”

Before I can answer, Bruce shoves the front of my body onto the counter, while he pulls down my yoga pants. My adrenaline is rushing, and I can feel myself wetting the counter from just his roughness. I can feel him unzip his pants and I can already imagine this thick, hard cock fucking me into oblivion.

“No, no he wasn’t good at all!” I cry out.

“Good, I’m actually relieved to hear that,” Bruce says, as he starts to stroke himself. “Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”

I want to turn around and watch him jack off. Hearing him pleasure himself isn’t enough. Bruce then jams two fingers back into my pussy and I whimper loudly. It has been too long since I’ve been intimate with a man. I need his cock now!

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Do I need to remind you who you are supposed to answer to?” he says seriously before adding a third finger inside me. I grip the counter and I breathe harder. I find myself rubbing my pussy on the edge of the smooth countertop for more friction, but he grabs my hips and stops me. “Now, do you want me to fuck you, Y/N, or should I leave you here, so you can dry hump the countertop alone?”

I growl louder, while my nails scratch the counter top. “YES! Yes, I want you to fuck me, Dad!”

As soon as those words left my mouth, I immediately wonder if I killed the mood. Why would I call him ‘dad’ when we’re about to have hot, rough sex in the kitchen? I need to apologize. I push myself up on my elbows and I shift my head to the side to apologize. I open my mouth to speak but stop when Bruce’s eyes darkened, and he growls as he slams his thick cock inside me.

I moan louder than I have in my entire life. His cock fills me up so much that I fear I won’t be able to walk straight for the next week or two. Bruce lifts my legs up and continues to shove me against the counter with every hard thrust. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck me. The man is practically drilling into me with no kindness at all.

“Oh fuck! You’re so fucking tight. So wet and so hot,” Bruce groans out. With each thrust, I can feel he wants to let go and fuck me like he owns me.

“Go ahead, Dad. Fuck me. Fuck me like I’m yours and only yours,” I tempt him playfully.

Bruce growls and rams his cock faster into me. He keeps knocking the air out from my lungs, and I can feel my body pulsating against his. I grip the countertop harder each time, and I know my knuckles are turning white and becoming numb every second. With one hand on my hips, Bruce moves his other hand up my tank top to hold my tits.

“No bra? You’re a bad girl,” Bruce says in between panting.

“I forgot to do laundry,” I choke out.

“Excuses,” he manages to say, as he holds me up more, so he can penetrate me deeper. His cock is hitting a deeper spot in me. It must be my g-spot, because I have read about it but never actually felt it to know. I can feel myself clenching his dick tightly, and I know I’m getting closer to release. “You wanted me and your brothers to see your tits, huh?”

“Maybe,” I cry out louder than what I intended to. Fuck, what if one of my brothers hears me? They’ll really think I’m insane for fucking our father and for loving it every second. Bruce readjusts our position once more, so he can hit that spot continuously. “I-I think I’m going to cum!”

“Not yet, you better not!” Bruce growls, and drills into me harder and faster. With his powerful thrusts and the constant friction from the countertop on my clit, I know for a fact that I can’t last longer. His hands hold onto my hips while he fucks me harder than before.

I become a moaning mess. I can feel my mouth drop open because I feel liquid coming out from my core. Did I just squirt? What the hell is happening to me?

The sounds of skin on skin is louder because of my mess. I drop my head onto the counter while Bruce continues to fuck me. Before I can catch my breath, Bruce chuckles and lifts me up. “I just made you squirt. That has never happened before, has it?”

“No, that was my first time,” I answer breathlessly. He kisses my neck.

“You’re so wet,” Bruce grunts into my ear. Breathing heavily, he lifts my hips again, so he can rub my clit with his fingers. “You’re making a mess all over my cock. You’re such a bad girl.”

“I’m your bad girl,” I moan out, as I can feel another orgasm threatening to take over my body.

“Fuck yes, you are!” Bruce groans, and continues to shove his cock into my soaking wet pussy.

With every rough thrust, I know Bruce won’t last. I whimper once more when my pussy clenches his dick as he fucks me through my orgasm. A few more hard thrusts, Bruce pulls out and turns me over onto my back. He jacks himself off as I watch his cum spurt out all over my stomach.

Just seeing his hard, veiny thick cock before me turns me on once more. I lick my lips at how the tip of his dick glistens with his cum.

Bruce sighs heavily, and just when I think I should try to get up and clean myself, he pulls me up and kisses me. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, and we explore each other’s mouths as if this was our last chance to. He pulls away from me and rests his forehead against mine.

“You’re mine, Y/N. You belong to me, and the Batfamily. I don’t care who wants you, because you will never give them what you have given me. Do you understand?” Bruce asks, before giving me his famous bat glare.

“I understand, and I promise,” I swear before he kisses me once more.

“Good, now go wash up,” Bruce instructs before he helps me off the counter.

I grab a paper towel and wipe Bruce’s cum off my stomach before I pull up my yoga pants. As soon as I toss the damped paper towel into the trash, I immediately notice Dick Grayson is standing there at the entrance of the kitchen staring at me with fire in his eyes.

#dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne x y/n smut #bruce wayne smut #batman smut

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animebookworm16 · 3 years

Text

Who Are You? - Angst

For @j3ssisam3ss

This is my angst piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25 Childhood Friends

It was the middle of winter in Gotham when she showed up. A tiny girl everyone guessed to be about three. She never spoke or made a sound, but she often smiled, even on the coldest nights. The little girl would just curl up to whoever had taken her that day and smile. At first the other homeless believed she'd never make it to spring. But the little girl was full of surprises. Not only did she survive the worst of the winter, she thrived once spring arrived.

Everyone knew she had a name, no one knew what it was, but they knew she had one. They also knew she was old enough to know it. Surprisingly, no one ever tried to give her a new name. Sure she got nicknames. More nicknames than a toddler could ever hope to keep track of, but somehow she did.

The little girl grew. As all children must. And the older children and adults always made sure to enunciate whenever she was in the area, hoping to teach her how to speak. They all banded together, like they always do for the especially young kids, and kept her away from the worst of the drugs, gangs, rogues, and the overall darkest parts of Gotham. She grew, and most people started calling her Pixie. Their little fairy caused laughter and mischief wherever she went. Even still she rarely spoke, her words as few and far between as they were, were always impactful to whoever she spoke to.

When Jason Todd started living on the street, everything changed. Pixie stuck to his side like glue. She laughed, she started talking, Pixie acted like the entire five years she had been living around Gotham she had been solely waiting for Jason to show up. The ones who raised her would have felt jilted if it hadn't been for how happy the little girl looked. Two years passed and the two ten-year-olds rarely left each other's sides.

Then Jason stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile and Pixie was finally picked up by CPS.

Pixie had to be strapped down by CPS so that she wouldn't hurt anyone. Luckily for her, a young French couple had been passing by when they saw what they were doing, and demanded to adopt the young girl. CPS didn't want to deal with the girl for much longer and agreed. When Tom and Sabine found out she didn't have a name, they quickly named her Marinette Dupain-Cheng and decided her birthday would be the same day they adopted her.

The newly named Marinette was quickly taken out of Gotham and out of the country as the couple returned to Paris.

She never knew that Jason had been adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Jason was picked up by Batman and quickly adopted by Bruce Wayne. Before long he had taken up the mantle of Robin and was fighting crime. He looked everywhere for his friend but no matter who or where he asked, no one had any idea. As the months passed, Jason lost hope for ever finding Pixie again.

He would never know that she had been picked up by CPS and adopted by a Parisian couple and taken back to Paris.

In Paris, Marinette always appeared happy, and her new parents were always busy but tried to make time for her. Marinette had taken to wandering Paris. She wanted to be familiar with her new city, even if Tom and Sabine didn't always agree with her new habit.

When she started school, Marinette stayed quiet. Friendly, but quiet. This made her a prime target for the mayor's spoiled daughter Chloe. Marinette allowed it to happen and did nothing to change the status quo. three years passed in this way until suddenly Marinette was seated next to an extremely outspoken girl named Alya, who would absolutely not stand for the status quo, so Marinette filled that space, doing what she'd always done since she'd come to Paris molded herself into what everyone around her wanted. The same day she met her new deskmate, and self-proclaimed bestie, Marinette also became one of the two heroes of Paris, fighting an emotional terrorist who thrived on negative emotions (and just being from Gotham made her a prime target). Marinette became Dame Nuit, with her partner Mister Bug.

She listened to everything Plagg told her, especially the warnings and consequences of using the Black Cat Miraculous.

For the next four years, Marinette would fill every mold she was placed in. The hero, the Guardian, the class president, the perfect baker's daughter, everything.

Then the consequences started showing up. Marinette knew she had to wrap up Hawk Moth and Mayura quickly. She started pushing it so much that Mister Bug called her out one night and in a single moment of weakness she told him what was happening. What her Miraculous was doing to her.

Mister Bug immediately wanted her to stop and let him give the Miraculous to someone else, but Dame Nuit shut it down saying that even if she stopped now, the damage was done and nothing would change that. In fact, using the Miraculous, while it had started the process, was actually slowing it down. Mister Bug cried when she told him that.

Together they redoubled their efforts to bring Hawk Moth and Mayura down. Of course, Mister Bug insisted on bringing in more permanent heroes, under the guise of keeping one of the two things Hawk Moth was after out of the fight. Dame Nuit then argued that it should be the Ladybug because it's the one that can fix everything which just left them going in circles. But even still she conceded to his request for more backup.

Within six months, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur had been stripped of their Miraculous and Paris was free to feel their emotions once more. All the Miraculous were returned and Marinette and Adrien revealed their identities to each other.

Adrien stuck to Marinette's side and became an unofficial brother. He helped her as the build-up of chaos in her soul took a physical manifestation, and began to destroy her

A year after Hawk Moth's defeat Marinette's entire class was granted a trip to Gotham City.

Marinette would have laughed at the irony if she didn't know it would probably be the last place she saw. It was strangely comforting to know that the city that held her most precious memories would also be the place that would hold her last.

In Gotham, Jason grew into a young man. He discovered the woman he thought was his mother wasn't. He tracked down his real mother, then got beaten half to death by the Joker only to be blown up by one of Joker's bombs.

Jason died.

Then Jason was revived by the Lazarus Pits and trained by the League of Shadows. He grew to hate Batman and wanted nothing more than to see the end of the Joker.

Years later, Jason would return to Gotham only to find he had been replaced and that the Joker was still running free, and alive. Jason tried to kill the new Robin, a kid named Tim Drake, Batman, and the Joker. He managed to end none of them.

Bruce convinced Jason to stick around and one thing led to another and Redhood became part of the Batfamily patrol rotation. He doesn't stay in the manor but he does drop in at least once a month for family dinners at Alfred's request. On the weekends, Jason would take Tim out and teach him how to spot a sniper, an assassin, what different guns look like when someone is trying to hide them, and most importantly, how to defuse a bomb. It becomes a bonding time for the two, but Jason still calls Tim 'Replacement' but now as a term of endearment.

He never forgets Pixie and she is one of the few things that kept him sane during the worst of the Pit Madness.

Then Damian shows up and Jason has no idea how to deal with the tiny Demon Spawn. It's rough going for a while but they all found their ways of bonding and before long they are one large dysfunctional family.

When Jason turned eighteen, he, Dick, Tim, and Damian welcomed a French class to Wayne Industries for a week-long tour. And that is where he thought he saw someone he would never see again.

Without his permission, Jason called out to her, "Pixie?" It was barely a whisper, but she heard it.

Her head whipped around and she stared at him, "Jason?"

He wanted to say it was a happy reunion. And it kind of was. They hugged. Her class and his brothers stared. Then the tears started. Pixie was smiling but tears were streaming down her face.

One of the other students came over and asked her in French if she was okay. Pixie shook her head and the blond boy asked if there was somewhere she could rest. Jason offered to show them a room. The three of them sat in a quiet room as Pixie cried. She kept leaning into Jason and he wasn't about to stop her. After who knows how long, Pixie dried her eyes and haltingly told Jason what was going on. She told him, how she'd been adopted and went by Marinette now. How she was dying and no one besides Adrien, the blond, knew. How she probably wouldn't make it out of Gotham.

Jason's first reaction was to want to hurt something. His second was to hold Pixie as close as he could and never let her go. Jason cried.

For the rest of the week everywhere that Pixie went, Jason was close behind. The other Waynes noticed and on the fourth day of their stay, invited Pixie and Adrien to join them for dinner.

There, a not-so-subtle interrogation went down, asking Pixie how she knew Jason. At which point, even Pixie's failing health allowed her to spill so many childhood stories about Jason that even they couldn't resist her knowledge. In return, Jason told Adrien stories he had collected about her as a toddler and little kid. It was the brightest smile Adrien had ever seen on Marinette, and the first real smile Pixie had given Jason all week. He could almost pretend that she wasn't dying.

After dinner Pixie said, "Jason, did I ever tell you about the dream I've had ever since I was a little girl?"

"What dream Pix?"

"I've always wanted to stand at the very top of the Wayne Industries building at dawn, and feel the wind at the top of the world."

"Really?"

Pixie smiled a soft sad smile, "Yeah. Do you think we could do that tomorrow?"

Jason suddenly realized what Pixie was talking about, and had to fight a lump in his throat to answer, "Yeah. Pix. Yeah, we can do that."

Adrien and Pixie stayed the night that night. That morning at about three, Jason woke them up and took them to the top of Wayne Industries. Pixie stood as high up as she possibly could. Adrien and Jason watched her with tears in their eyes. Before long, they were joined by Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin, who all wanted to make sure she wouldn't fall. Jason didn't have the heart to tell them they couldn't stop what was about to happen.

As dawn started to creep up on them, Adrien broke down sobbing, begging Marinette to fight a little longer. When the light hit her head, Marinette closed her eyes and smiled. They all saw her start to fade.

Her hands went first. Like dust. As the light increased so did her fading. Before she faded completely, Pixie walked towards them a peaceful smile on her face. Jason was crying now too. His Pixie looked like a ghost.

And as she faded completely, everyone on that roof heard her say, "My name is Jeanette. It's so nice to meet you!"

#Maribat #Maribat Fluff and Angst April #Platonic jasonette #Angst

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