#(which tim tried to do also but :pensive:)

[002yb]

If you're fine with it, can we have Jason distracted staring at Dick's back dimples while Tim tries to talk to him about a case?

Tim being well aware that Jason isn't listening to him and knowing there's nothing to be done for it. Because for all intents and purposes, Jason is in another plane of existence. That plane being the one just over Tim's head.

That Dick happens to be standing just behind him is irrelevant, surely. Totally coincidental. (눈_눈)

So there's Tim, trying to do his job. The job Jason requested Tim's assistance on, mind. Because it was important. And yet here Jason is now, being very much distracted by someone who is entirely unrelated to aforementioned important case/job.

Tim takes it in stride if only because it's not a surprise. Jason's crush on Dick isn't exactly a secret. As far as Tim's concerned, it's the only endearing thing about his menace of a brother.

There's something decidedly off about the attention Jason gives Dick this time though. There's nothing of the delicate, flustered maiden Tim is used to whenever Jason discreetly oogles and indulges in all that romantic whimsy of his–just a chilling intensity that has a shiver running up Tim's spine and anticipation making him wonder if he's missed something crucial.

So Tim observes as he rattles on about the case. He knows full well that he'll have to repeat everything later, but Jason's behavior is equal parts concerning and curious.

The way Jason goes from intently watching, neutral until his brows start to furrow and his lips pull down into a frown. A scowl. More and more pensive. Almost bristling.

Tim can't not look, so he casts a furtive glance over his shoulder, discreet and fleeting. And it's just Dick there. Dressed down in the usual athleisure, faced away from them as he looks something over at the large projections of the Batcomputer.

There's nothing to it. It's how Dick always looks after patrol, comfortable in a pair of sweats and a compression shirt. Nothing Jason hasn't flustered over plenty of times before.

Tim still remembers the first time Jason saw Dick dressed down post-patrol. How Dick and Jason were walking past each other, but while Jason kept walking, his head turned to trail after Dick. And how Jason ran into a table, tripped over Damian, and nearly overheated when Dick offered him a hand up. The way Jason's gaze lingered on Dick's bicep, his shoulders as he was hefted up. The way he almost went back down from how bad he was blushing.

It's as Tim is contemplating if Dick did something to provoke Jason's ire that Jason finally makes his move. Disregarding everything Tim says to shove past him and storm across the way, hand reaching out--

And Tim knows that Jason isn't brazen enough to turn Dick around and kiss him or anything like that, but with how puffed up Jason is, who's to say?

Tim is. Because he knows Jason and Jason would fluster and abort and see himself right out of Gotham before confessing his undying, decade long crush.

Which is neither here nor there, because instead Jason just jabs Dick right in the dimple of his lower back. A poke that's a little too vicious to be flirtatious, even for Jason

And Dick's inhale is so sharp that everyone in the cave turns to look

And Tim's eyes widen because fuck, if he thought Jason's stare was chilling, the way Dick glares is cold and severe and... grouchy?

'You're hurt.' Jason goes on to say, unperturbed by the storm he's about to weather

Everyone in the family startling because what?? When? How severe? But also just...how could Jason tell?

And Dick scowls, caught out.

'I'm not hurt.'

Only he is, because Jason scowls and bites back, 'I saw it.'

Which has Dick reeling because how?? He's completely covered. He didn't change with anyone around.

And then it's Jason's turn to get all !!! because he seriously noticed just because of how Dick was standing and the way his back looked through his shirt and somehow Jason's exposed himself in such a terrible way that he just - goes offline. Back to that other plane of existence because well, shit.

The most belated and petulant of, 'it doesn't matter.' before Jason starts fretting

Which makes Dick soften up a bit, because Jason being so caring is such a darling thing. ;3;

And then Dick twists and pulls up his shirt enough to show that he's fine, just bruised and a little swollen.

Jason being such a maiden that he has to look away because just that is too much SOS.

Then they get lost in the chitchats and Tim is still just standing there with his report on a very important case, existing entirely outside of Jason's rose-colored bubble and oh, how Tim wants to pop it so bad lol

[marsrize]

Tim’s cat [Part 4]

Ao3: Here | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5.

Summary: This human would learn to take care of himself, even if Adrien had to force him to do so! Cat's honor!

Chapter 4: Cat Noir first mission: Make Tim take a break.

 Life could be ironic.

His foster human, whose name was Tim, had given him a name: Cat Noir.

For an outsider, this name could be the least original in the world. He was a black cat with green eyes, his human called him "Cat Noir". The reference to his previous life was not amusing to him. It showed him that this world was somehow connected to his past. He couldn't really live in fear of the past, so he did his best to live each day to the fullest as a cat.

It had been three months since Adrien had moved in with Tim. The beginnings had been a bit complicated, but the young man was now nicer to him.

This made Adrien's job easier. He felt like he had adopted a kitten. This boy had not taken care of himself. Adrien felt responsible for "his human".

Tim was clearly suffering from insomnia. He also worked too much! So, Adrien tried to force him to sleep by keeping him from working. He would lie on the computer keyboard, throwing himself on the documents Tim was working on. He would rub against his head or against him for attention.

" Okay mister cat, what are you doing? I need to finish this report for work."

Adrien meowed and rubbed against Tim's head, trying to get his attention away from whatever he was doing.

"I know you have work to do, but you also need to take care of yourself". Of course, the only thing this boy could hear was Adrien's meowing.

Tim sighed and reached down to pet Adrien.

"How stubborn you can be."

Adrien purred contentedly; he was happy to have succeeded in attracting Tim’s attention. His joy was short-lived. Tim took him in his arms, almost threw him into one of the rooms of the house and closed the door. Adrien was scandalized.

 "How dare you?!"

Then, like the good stubborn cat that he was, he began to meow and scratch the door. Again, and again and again. Tim finally opened the door again, clearly annoyed.

"Damn it Cat, it's always the same, you never let me work!"

 “You can't help anyone if you're dead, Tim, which you will be if you continue like this.”

This was the frustrating part for Adrien. He couldn't talk, just meow, and humans didn't understand feline language. So, Adrien looked up at Tim with his big green eyes and meowed, trying to convey his concern for Tim's well-being. But Tim just shook his head.

"I know, I know, I need to take better care of myself. But I have deadlines to meet and work to do."

At least he knew he was doing too much. If only he could also take the necessary actions to stop the problem. Adrien rubbed against Tim's legs and meowed again, hoping to get him to see reason. But Tim just sighed.

"Sorry Cat, but I have to finish this report. Maybe later we can play together."

Adrien watched as Tim went back to his computer, feeling a bit defeated. He knew he couldn't force Tim to take care of himself, but he couldn't stop trying either. He rolled up next to Tim again. This time he didn't try to stop him. Adrien was pensive. He had to find a solution.

Adrien couldn't help but think about his past life as Cat Noir. He had been a superhero, fighting alongside Ladybug to protect Paris from akumas. Now, he was just a regular cat trying to take care of his human. But he knew that even small acts of kindness could make a difference in someone's life.

 What should I do.

Adrien took a deep breath and began to brainstorm. He knew he couldn't directly control Tim's actions, but maybe there was something he could do to make Tim realize the importance of self-care. He remembered how Ladybug would always remind him to take care of himself, even in the midst of a crisis. Maybe he could try something similar with Tim.

Adrien got up and sat on Tim's lap. He stretched a little and stayed there. Tim did not try to chase him away. Finally, after a while, he began to stroke Adrien’s fur distractedly. He began to purr but he didn't let himself get too distracted. He knew he had a job to do. He kept thinking, trying to come up with a plan. Then, an idea struck him

Adrien jumped off Tim's lap and headed towards the door. He meowed, trying to get Tim's attention. Tim looked up from his computer, slightly annoyed.

"What now, Cat?"

Adrien meowed again and headed towards the door. He began to scratch at the door to the garden.

Tim watched him do this for a moment, finally getting up and opening the door, Adrien went outside.

"There, there, the door is open, now let me work."

Sometimes the best way to get someone's attention was to surprise them. That's why Adrien decided he would hunt something down and offer it to Tim. Hopefully, this would make him understand the message.

Adrien prowled through the garden; his senses heightened as he searched for prey. He knew he couldn't hunt anything too big or dangerous, so he settled for a small bird. Adrien crouched low, his eyes fixed on the bird, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Finally, the bird made a move and Adrien pounced, catching it in his jaws. He quickly made his way back to the door, hoping that Tim was still there. Luckily, he was. Adrien dropped the bird at Tim's feet, meowing triumphantly. Tim looked down at the small creature in shock.

"What the?! Cat, what did you do?!"

Adrien looked up at Tim, purring contentedly. He nudged the bird towards Tim, hoping that he would understand the message.

Tim was clearly horrified. He picked up the bird and threw it out in disgust.

" I'm not giving you enough to eat?!"

Tim went into the kitchen, obviously to feed him. Adrien couldn't help but smile to himself. He had just found a way to force Tim to take care of himself. This kid was going to get his message whether he wanted it or not.

After that day, whenever Tim would overdo it, Adrien would find a way to chase something, sometimes several times a day, and "offer" him his prey. He not only hunted, he also threw cat food at Tim's feet from time to time. Then finally, several days later, Adrien found herself in the vet's office. Tim had probably decided that Adrien had a problem and needed "therapy".

Adrien will never forget the look on Tim's face as the vet began to explain his cat behavior.

"So, from what you've told me, Cat Noir has been bringing you prey quite frequently, is that correct?"

"Yes. He's been hunting birds and mice and dropping them at me. Sometimes he even throws up his food at my feet"

"Well, I believe I have an explanation for that behavior. You see, in the wild, mother cats teach their kittens how to hunt and provide food for themselves by bringing prey to them. It seems that Cat may be trying to feed you like a kitten, as if you were his dependent."

"... Are you telling me that my cat thinks I'm his kitten?..."

"I can't say that with certainty. Animals, and especially cats, have their own way of communicating. it's actually quite a sweet gesture. Cat Noir may see you as part of his family and is trying to provide for you in the best way he knows how.”

“………”

After that day, every time Adrien threw food at his feet. Tim took a break.

 Mission accomplished. 

[ryutarotakedown]

i’m in the process of making a much longer post but i think the most essential part of a pjo x tma crossover is that you are Required By Law to give tim nico’s backstory

[gentlemancrow]

Ohh prompts! Maybe 21 and some shippy JonTim?

OK I know I agonized about this one but NO REALLY THANK YOU IT WAS GREAT <3! It was a GREAT exercise for writing in so many ways for me! Also I know the prompt "Maybe you should sit down" sort of implies getting bad news or something more than what popped into my brain, but this is what popped IMMEDIATELY into my brain so I went with it 83 Also again this is my first JonTim so be gentle with me uwu! Honestly it's my first time writing Tim in general for longer than one sentence so there's that too jfhlsajf XT Anyway enjoy!

Jon would have infinitely preferred to think of his bungled little excursion as a calculated risk that the whims of capricious probability had simply decided he had lost on that particular doomed occasion. What it truly was, however, was an infinitely predictable culmination of skipping his physio stretches for three mornings in a row, deciding a quick jaunt into the stacks to hunt for a statement to cross reference with the one he had been working on all morning did not, in fact, require the aid of his cane, and several cups of black tea on an empty stomach with their resultant caffeine jitters that had left him splayed and wobbling like a newborn fawn with one hand anchoring him in a vice grip to the handle of a file drawer. His bad leg ached in that special way it did that he knew all too well could be catastrophic if he moved it even slightly wrong, and set him back significantly on his physio progress. That oft repeated foible would also attract the ire and derision of literally every single person who knew him, never mind the physical therapists at the clinic, and he was very much not prepared to deal with that on top of everything else.

Lucky for him he wasn’t even supposed to be back at the institute in the first place, so no one would be looking for him, and he was reasonably assured that he would have plenty of time to figure out how to escape unscathed, or at least enough to hide a suspicious limp for a day or two. Unlucky for him, probability it seemed, also liked to double down.

“Alright there, boss man?”

Tim’s jovial voice echoed through the file cabinets like the worst song on the juke at the pub out of all of the hundreds of better selections just as Jon was preparing to gingerly move his spasmodic leg. He sighed and closed his eyes bitterly.

“Oh, yes, just fine, just dangling precariously from this file cabinet to try out a new stretch, it’s called the ‘mind your own business’,” he growled.

Tim chuckled, the echoes of it raising pinprick hackles of irritation on the back of Jon’s neck as he emerged from the shadows, hands on his hips and wry, crooked grin on his scarred face.

“Maybe you should sit down.”

“And pray tell where, Timothy?” Jon snapped in a low growl.

Tim made a low whistle.

“Yikes! Busting out the -othy today? You must be in a bad way.”

“You think so? Whatever gave you that brilliant idea?” Jon drawled, rolling his eyes, “Are you going to stand there gawking and making me feel even more like an invalid or are you going to deign to render me aid?”

“I think I can spare a moment, just for you,” came the predictably smug retort, “What exactly would you like me to do?”

“I just need to sit a moment and massage it out, so fetching a chair from somewhere ought to suffice.”

Tim pondered the request as he strolled to Jon’s side, chewing his lower lip pensively.

“Well, I could do that for you, but seeing as you’re not actually supposed to be here yet I am a little concerned that dragging a chair randomly down to the archives would attract… unwanted attention? You know Martin would have a conniption.”

Sighing heavily, Jon pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

“Good point.”

“How about my lap then?” Tim continued without missing a beat.

Jon choked on his own tongue as the tips of his ears burned like cinders.

“TIM! Is this really, truly, and honestly the appropriate moment to be… making a pass at me?”

Unfazed, Tim pressed a dramatic hand over his heart.

“Jon, I’m wounded! Ordinarily I’d be deeply offended you’d think my flirting skills so inelegant and crass, but I was actually being sincere this time.”

A dark brow slid skeptically, pointedly up Jon’s forehead.

“Beg pardon, but how could that possibly have ever, in any situation, been construed as sincere?”

“Well, we’ve determined a chair is too risky, the floor isn’t going to do you any favors, and I know you won’t let me carry you back to your office, so I won’t even bother to ask, so where does that leave us, hmmm? Plus, if you recall, I had much the same physio you did, I know the massages and the stretches, I can have you patched up and out of here in no time,” Tim elaborated, counting off on his fingers.

Jon hated it when anyone other than him was making the most sense in the conversation, and he gnashed his teeth and growled his begrudging acquiescence.

“…Fine.”

“Brilliant. Alright to touch?” Tim asked brightly, hands hovering a respectful few inches from Jon’s hand and shoulders.

Eyes narrowing to smoldering brown slits, the last embers of a dying fire, Jon made him wait a few moments for the wordless nod of approval.

“Okay, just taking your hand there, my other hand’s got your other arm, and easy does it…”

With surprising finesse and gentleness, Tim took Jon’s hand and eased him onto the ground with him and into his lap, taking great care to keep his seized-up leg straight and comfortable. Jon melded against his assistant, looping his arms loosely around Tim’s waist while he tipped his head against his shoulder and let his twisted-up bones and sinew go slack against the radiantly warm aegis of him. His shirt was screamingly loud and his hair was freshly pink and he always smelled crisp and free and wild, like a sea breeze on a sun-soaked twilight. Jon liked the way he smelled, and the self-assured posture of his broad shoulders and the heartening solidness of a body meant to be shirtless as often as possible holding him so secure in the humming powerlines of his care. Just to be touched was a visceral melody of nerve endings and synapses, to be touched by him was a blinding symphony of electric light and sound perfectly in tune to the aria of his core where so few dared to go.

“Not so awful right?” Tim teased, squeezing his affected knee with care.

“Get on with it, Stoker,” Jon murmured languidly into the crook of his neck.

“Ohoh, last name now. I’m on real thin ice, aren’t I?” he chortled in reply, pads of his fingers feeling out the ridge of a patella and skating down his calf.

Jon winced, opening one eye to glance guiltily up at the ever-chipper mien of Tim.

“I-“ he stuttered, his protest melting into a sigh, “No, you’re not. I’m sorry. You’re being helpful and I’m being an ass.”

“Mmm, that’s a smidge hyperbolic. You’re being snappish because you got caught being naughty, and you’re in pain, and you also got caught being in pain, which is probably the worst offense out of all of them.”

“I suppose…” Jon conceded, closing his eye and letting his body go slack again.

“Okay to roll your cuff up? Or would you prefer trouser leg down?”

“You can roll it up, I don’t mind.”

Tim promptly, neatly, folded the cuff of Jon’s trousers up only to just above the knee, baring the cratered mares of his leg. His fingers felt them out, felt the places where the worms bored holes in him that had forgotten which way to mend and pulled and tugged in a confused riot of fibrous muscle and scar tissue, and rolled through them with slow, deliberate tenderness. Jon hissed softly in pain, but Tim’s fingers knew the weft and trail of his muscles, and he squeezed and massaged and tilled them with expert care. Unhurriedly, painstakingly, Jon’s knee unlocked, and it bowed gratefully outward with the sigh of relief into a Hawaiian print collar.

“You’re allowed to hurt you know,” Tim whispered at length, fingers just stroking idly now.

“Everyone’s allowed to hurt,” Jon replied automatically, “It’s only that those of us who can bear it have the duty to do so for those who can’t.”

Tim chewed his lip in the wake of that, weighing his feelings against his words carefully.

“And what god decides who is who?”

Only silence from the clinging, boneless and wounded creature in his lap.

“I’m just saying. I was right there with you, the same thing happened to me, so maybe share a little of this one, hmm?” he tried again, nudging at Jon’s temple with the tip of his nose, letting the silvered chestnut hairs tickle.

The strings of Jon’s body wound taut again around Tim’s fingers still tracing blind patterns on his shin, and he glanced up, daring to ensnare his irises only for a moment.

“I’ll try.”

A soft, breathless laugh whisked past Tim’s lips as he shook his head fondly.

“I guess that’s the best I’m going to get out of the high and mighty head archivist,” he huffed, “But I’ll take it. Now, where can I kiss it all better for you?”

It took Jon a full cycle of pouting, scowling, and digging vengeful fingers into Tim’s back before he could conjure an answer.

“Forehead, please.”

“You got it.”

Jon ducked his head to receive Tim’s lips pressed against his creased brow, and while he knew he bore a burden too great to be carried away with velvet kisses and frank words, for a moment at least he could feel just a bit lighter.

[thebookwormfairy]

Winx Club Maribat AU Part 2

Hey guys I'm making a permanent tag list for my Maribat stuff. If you like to be added just message me! Okay on to the story!

Part 1

Masterlist

Marinette had a great summer

She loved being back home with her parents, but something felt different

She felt like her parents were hiding something from her

Something big

She tried not to let it bother her and just enjoy her summer

Her favorite part was when her friends came over

Though she was a little surprised when Damian's brothers stepped out of the portal along with Damian, Adrien, Alya, Alix, Jon, Juleka, Nino, and Rose

Jason walking up and ruffling Marinette's hair: You look surprised to see us Pixie Pop

Damian pushing Jason away from Marinette before giving her a hug: Sorry Angel, my father wouldn't let us come unless they came along

Marinette smiling: It's no problem the more the merrier

Marinette showed them all the sights of Paris

From the classics like the Eiffle Tower

To more local secrets like Ande's Icecream

Much to Marinette's embarrassment Andre made her icecream based off of Damian and his her

But it didn't seem like he understood or at least he didn't bring it up

On the last night in Paris before they all had to return to school Damian asked to talk to Marinette alone

They climbed out onto her balcony to get some privacy

The pair stood in silence for a but staring out into the Parisian night

Damian grabbing Marinette's hands: Marinette we've known eachother for a couple of months now, and they've been wome of the best times I've ever had

Marinette blushed: Really?

Damian also blushing: Yeah, I know it's only been a couple of months but I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't want to have to. So will you be my girlfriend?

Marinette rushing forward hugging Damian: Of course I will!

The two stood there hugging eachother as close as possible

The young couple pulled apart a little bit only to lean towards eachother again when the moment was ruined by a blue skinned witch

The blue skinned witch short a spell towards the two

Damian was able to push Marinette off the balcony and onto the roof away from the spell

Damian: Are you okay?

Marinette: Yeah

The others hearing the explosion came running out of the backery seeing the witch

Adrien spotting Damian and Marinette on the roof yells: Are you guys okay?

Marinette: Yeah

Marinette transformed and flying Damian down to the street with the rest of their friends

Mayu: I know one of you have the Miraculous! Give it to me at once

Marinette: What's a Miraculous?

Jason: No idea

Mayu: I will tear apart this entire planet until I receive the Miraculous!

Marinette: Oh no you won't!

The other fairies transformed and start to fight but it was like their attacks barely fazed the witch

Damian: Come on boys we have to help them!

The Specialist jumped into the battle

Together they were barely able to chase the witch off

Marinette had so many questions, but one kept popping up in her head

Did this have anything to do with the mysterious ring she found during her final?

After the girls and Adrien used their magic to repair the damage from the battle and check on Marinette's parents they decides to go to Gotham a day early and stay in Wayne Manor

Dick assured the group that it was perfectly fine and that their dad would much rather have a few surprises guests then for any of them be injured

Bruce was very welcoming to the group of misplaced kids

As the Adrien, Jon, and the girls minus Marinette went to bed, the Wayne's and Marinette stayed downstairs

Alfred: So why did the young masters return with their friends so soon?

Damian: We were attacked

Bruce: Attacked?

Tim: Yeah by some crazy blue skinned witch! She was looking for something....what was it?

Dick: She was looking for something, um, it started with an M. Mmmm... mmiii...

Jason and Marinette: The Miraculous

Alfres was shocked when he heard that

He's heard of the Miraculous before, the powerful treasures from the planet Miracul, but they were lost when the kingdom fell

Or so everybody thought

Alfred looked at Jason as he laughed at something Marinette said

He couldn't helping thinking back to the first thought he had upon meeting Jason

That he looked so much like King Rolland

But there was no way that the Dark Coven would have let the royal children live

They sadly were probably the first of their victims

They would have been the wielders of the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous

Together they would have been able to take down the Dark coven single handly

To not get rid of such a big threat early on would have been plain stupid so of course the royal heirs are no more

But Alfred couldn't help but think that Marinette looked an awful lot like Queen Clarisse

When the fairies returned they told Ms. Faragonda everything that happened

Faragonda had a pensive looked on her face, but told the girls to head to their dorms

With the start of school all thoughts of mysterious blue witches and Miraculouses were pushed to the back of their minds

Dick was officially a teacher at Red Fountain and was totally crushing on his co-teacher Kori, who could totally kick his but

Which is one of the reasons he loves her

Marinette kept teach Adrien magic with the help of the other faries

And of course Damain now tags along with Adrien so he can see his girlfriend

Though Adrien now hates Marinette and Damian because the 2 have made it their personal mission to kill Adrien

Okay maybe Adrien was being over dramatic

Truthfully the young couple just liked to tease Adrien relentlessly about his crush on Jon

Damian become more of a regular sight at Alfea

And with him came his brothers

Much to Damian's chagrin

Jason and Marinette started to become closer and closer

Adapting more of a sibling relationships

With Jason even giving Damian the shovel talk

Damian: Shouldn't you be giving Marinette this talk

Jason: No I prefer to threaten you

Damian just glares at his annoying brother

Yes everything was going great for Marinette until one day Alfea was attacked

This person was a man you looked like a scarecrow but he too was looking for the Miraculouses

Scarecrow was throwing potions at the young fairies that made them see their worst fears

Soon only Marinette and her friends were left standing though it was obvious that the gas was starting to get to them

Scarecrow zeroing onto Marinette: You! Your the one with the Miraculous!

Marinette blasting Scarecrow: I have no idea what your talking about! What is a Miraculous?!?

Scarecrow laughing: Oh my gosh you hold possibly the most powerful magical object in the universe and you have no idea, do you? Gove me the Miraculous little girl and I just make let you live

Marinette: Never!

Scarecrow: Have it your way!

Juleka was the first one to go down, Rose followed closely behind wit Alya holding out for a but longer before she too succumbed to the gas

Alix was able to stay much longer

She continued to fight besides Marinette blowing the gas away from the two

Watching Alix gave Marinette a brilliant idea

Marinette: Alix I have an idea!

Alix trying to blow Scarecrow away, but only succeeding in pushing him back a couple of feet: I'm all ears

Marinette: Let me handle this guy, you need to blow the gas away! If we can clear the gas everybody will go back to normal

Alix: I'm on it!

Alix flew down to wear the gas was starting to use her winx to blow the gas away from her classmates and teachers

Scarecrow laughing: Oh and what are you going to do, little fairy?

Marinette didn't answer the man instead gathering all her strength into one big blast

Even with all of Marinette's power the man only laughed

Scarecrow: That was cute

Marinette stared at him in horror

How was he laughing?

She put everything she had in that blast but it didn't do anything to him

Marinette was ready to give up until she heard the same voice she heard during her final

The voice: Marinette I can help you but you have to trust me

Marinette for some reason trusted this voice

She couldn't explain why she just did

Marinette: Okay I trust you

Marinette felt another wave of power washed over her

Green sparks surrounded Marinette and she felt reenergized

With this new energy Marinette gathered all her power again and this time when Marinette released her attack Scarecrow was blasted to the ground, getting knocked out in the process

Marinette pants as she landed back on the ground, Alix was able to clear the gas and everybody was starting to calm down

She cold feel the mysterious energy leave her as Ms. Faragonda walked up to Marinette

Faragonda: You did a great job Marinette. Well take this man into custody and find out what he was doing here

Marinette: Okay Ms. Faragonda.

Ms. Faragonda stared after her young student

She saw that green energy around Marinette

The only explanation could have been the Cat Miraculous, but that would be impossible

Faragonda needed to do some research

2 weeks later Marinette and her friends were called into her office

Faragonda: Thanks for coming in today girls, in light of the recent attacks I feel like this is important, but it also must remain a secret

Alix: What is it Ms. F?

Faragonda: We finished interrogating the man who attacked Alfea and it's what I worst feared. He is a member of the Dark Coven, the coven that destroyed the kingdom of Miracul.

The girls gasped at the information

Faragonda: Yes I know. They seem to think that one of you had a Miraculous and the attacks won't stop until you either defeat the coven or they kill you. So I believe it's time to gather the Miraculouses again and for you to start the next level of your training, Enchantix. Enchantix is achieved when you save a member of you family from a life threatening situation, that's why most fairies don't achieve it. They're not willing to take such a risk, but with Enchantix you'll be able to take on the Dark Coven and with the Miraculous you'll be able to start them for good

Alya: But how will we find the Miraculous? Weren't they scattered when Miracul fell?

Faragonda: That is true Alya, but we have an advantage that the coven doesn't have, somebody from Miracul. The people of Miracul had a connection to the Miraculous and with the royal family gone hopefully they will reach out to the last citizen of their kingdom

Marinette: Who is the last citizen?

Faragonda: Jason Todd. We'll be working with Red Fountain to find the Miraculous, but this must remain top secret nobody out of this room and the Specialist assigned to the mission must know about this. We have no idea how far the Dark Coven's reach extends

Faragonda: And one more thing girls and this is very important. No matter what never put on a Miraculous. Besides the Dark Coven the only people who would be able to wield and Miraculous was the royal family of Miracul and the people they bestowed the miraculous to. Anybody else who dares put on a Miraculous will be destroyed by the very power held within it.

Of course the Specialist assigned to the mission was Jason's brothers, Adrien, and Jon

They spent months tracking down the Miraculous

The Miraculous did seem to call out to Jason, but they called out to Marinette too

Marinette didn't know what to think of it

She was too scared to tell anybody that the Miraculous were calling to her too

She was scared of what it would me if they were really calling to her

And she was also scared that the ring she kept in her pocket was also a Miraculous

Marinette didn't let these worries get in the way of their mission

There was too much at stake for her to let her fear get to her

Their mission was actually going pretty well they already found 4 Miraculouses each on of the girls' home planet

The ones they found so far were the fox, turtle, rabbit, and mouse

With each Miraculous another fairy gained their Enchantix

Mainly because it seemed that a member of the Dark Coven appeared wherever they went

Alya got her's saving her twin sisters, Alix her father, Juleka her brother, and Rose her mother

Marinette was the only one who hadn't gotten her Enchantix and she didn't really know if she wanted to get it

The very thought of anything happening to her parents or anybody in her family made her feel sick

Today the group was going to the planet Miracul

They couldn't go by ship so Tim rewired the alternate reality chamber from the fairies' finals into a transport chamber

Dick: Are you sure the next Miraculous is on Miracul?

Jason: Positive, something is calling me there

Marinette also feeling something calling her: Jason hasn't let us down yet, I'm sure we'll find another Miraculous!

Jason: Thank you Pixie Pop at least somebody believes in me

Jason jokingly pulled Marinette into a tight hug pitting about his brothers questioning him

Damian: Please remove yourself from my girlfriend Todd

Jason turning to face Damian still holding onto Marinette: No, she may be your girlfriend but she's my unofficial adopted sister

Marinette laughing: Come on Jason let go. We got work to do

Jason: I don't really want to do the work today

Damian successfully tugging Marinette away from his annoying brother: Too bad

Tim: Now now, none of that. Come around kiddies I got the portal all set up

Tim pulling out 10 necklaces: So as y'all know we can't fly to the planet Miracul so we're teleporting. The teleporter will get us there but these babies will get us back. All you have to do is press the button and boom you're back here safe and sound

Jon: Sounds simple enough let's do this!

Of course no of their missions could be simple

The planet Miracul already held a lot of danger for the fairies

Since Miracul was a frozen planet the temperature could freeze the fairies wings and cause them to shatter

So the fairies of the group didn't want to transform unless it was absolutely necessary

The group explored the planet following the voice Jason said he heard

Jason lead them into the old place going to a room that felt so familiar to him

It was a child's room, old dusty toys laid on the floor covered in dust a frost

Jason was about to pick up a small chest when there was a blast of ice

Another coven member had found them

This one called himself Mr. Freeze

The fairies transformed hoping to send him off packing

But because of Mr. Freeze's powers the fairies had a hard time fighting him off

Mr Freeze aimed a blast at Jason

Marinette flying towards Jason: Jason watch out!

Marinette pushed Jason out of the way getting hit by the blast instead

Marinette's whole body was frozen solid from the blast

Jason and Damian: No!!

The two ran towards Marinette while the others continued to fight Mr. Freeze

Damian: No no no, please Marinette no!

Jason: No Pixie Pop! No why? I promised...I promised?

The ice around Marinette started to crack and shatter and Marinette emerged from it in her Enchantix form

She wore a dressed made out of Red petals with black vines wrapping around under her bust

With Marinette's new form they were able to blast Mr. Freeze away and send him into a full retreat

It wasn't until after the fight was done that Marinette and Jason realized something

Marinette looking at Jason: Wait, if I got my Enchantix form...then that would mean we're...

Marinette and Jason: Family

@t1dwarrior-of-earth @clumsy-owl-4178 @vgirl-10123 @aestheticnpoetic @toodaloo-kangaroo @animegirlweeb @k-poplunardreams @our-preciousss @razzledazzle247 @justafanwarrior @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl

[redhoodssweetheart]

Meeting the BatFam

Genre: Fluff

Relationship: Older!Damian x Gender Neutral!Reader (A gender is never specified throughout the story)

Requested: Yes by @lokiifriggasonn (REQUESTS ARE CLOSED BUT I WILL TAKE SUGGESTIONS FOR FICS YOU’D LIKE TO SEE)

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Fluff, nothing major

Description:  You’re meeting Damian’s family for the first time and a little nervous about how it’s going to go.

It looked like a tornado had gone through the room when Damian entered.  Drawers to the dresser had been opened and riffled through, the closet also looked like it had been demolished.  There were clothes on the floor and you were lying back on the bed staring up at the ceiling.  Damian arched an eyebrow and carefully made his way around the clothes strewn on the floor to sit by your side.

“Beloved, why does our bedroom look like a natural disaster hit?”  He had an inkling as to why, but he wanted to hear it from your lips.

You rolled your head to the side and looked up at your boyfriend, you could tell that he was trying not to grin or tease you about this.  You narrowed your eyes, “Call me Hurricane Y/N and it’s only because I couldn’t find a single thing to wear.”

Damian finally couldn’t take it and started to chuckle, you looked adorable right now.  “Y/N, you could wear anything and it would be fine, you’re just meeting my family.  They’ll love you regardless of what you wear to meet them.”

You groaned and forced yourself to sit up, “I just want to make a good first impression.  This is Bruce Wayne we’re talking about here.  And on top of that your brothers will be there.”

Damian snorted, “They love you already.  They say you have to be a literal saint to put up with me.”

You grinned and kissed his cheek, “You’re not so bad, Demonboy.”

It was his turn to narrow his eyes at you, “Yeah, you’re going to fit right in with them if you keep it up.”  He stood up and tossed your favorite outfit your way.  “Go ahead and wear this, I know it makes you feel more confident and it’ll be fine to meet my family in.”

He left you alone so that you could change and then the two of you head for Wayne Manor.  You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as you drew closer to the manor.  You knew of Damian’s family, you had seen their faces plastered all over tabloids and on the news.  They were Gotham royalty and you weren’t sure if you would be able to measure up to their expectations for Damian.

The manor was impressive, seeing it in pictures versus seeing it up close and personal was a whole other story.  You paused to take it all in and Damian waited patiently.  To Damian the manor wasn't that impressive, he had seen others bigger and grander than this.  But he knew that that was just his experience, this was something new to you.  When you were done he slipped his hand into yours and led you inside where Alfred was waiting.

“Damian,” he took your coats and offered a bright smile to you.  Damian had often described Alfred as a grandfather figure to everyone in the home, and had been with the Wayne family since forever.  “Y/N, it is so lovely to finally meet you.  Damian speaks about you all the time.”

“All good things I hope,” you said as you glanced at your boyfriend wondering what exactly he had to say about you.

“Of course,” Alfred said.  “The young man is quite smitten with you.”

Damian was turning red, “Alfred.”

Alfred chuckled, “I do believe this is the first time I’ve ever seen you flustered, Damian.  Maybe he should have brought you around soon, Y/N.”

Damian tugged you along, “That’s quite enough, Pennyworth.  Come along, Y/N, there are more people to meet.”

“You mean more people to embarrass you,” you teased and he sighed knowing that you were unfortunately correct about that.  His family would find any excuse to embarrass him.

You followed Damian through the halls to the living room where they were all gathered around reading or on their phones or computers.  Jason was the first one you noticed with the shock of white hair in the front and the classic book perched on his lap, a pensive look on his face.  Next was Tim with his laptop open and a cup of coffee beside him.  Then there was Dick on his phone probably texting Kor’i about how Damian and his significant other were on their way.  Then there was Bruce sitting in a wing-back chair reading over the paper.

They were a portrait of a rich upper class family.

Damian wanted to roll his eyes at how hard they were trying to appear normal.

He cleared his throat and they all looked up and spotted the two of you.  “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Y/N.”

“Hello,” you gave a little wave and a smile hoping that you didn’t look as nervous as you felt.

Dick was up in a flash and coming over to pull you in for a hug, “Y/N!  It’s so nice to finally meet you!  We didn’t think Dames here would ever bring you by.”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose, “Grayson, you are about as excitable as a puppy.  Please try not to scare Y/N with your overly excitable nature.”

Dick released you and gave you a sheepish smile, “Sorry, but I gotta say we’re all just really excited that you’re here.  Damian never brings anyone here for us to meet so you must be something really special if he’s willing to risk embarrassment for us to meet you.”

Tim stood up next and shook your hand in a much more formal manner than his older brother, “Don’t mind Grayson, he’ll calm down once all the excitement is over.”  You chuckled and told Tim that it was nice to meet him.

Jason followed Tim, again offering you a solid handshake versus the hug.  “I’m surprised you manage to get along with the Demon spawn.”

“Watch it, Todd,” Damian growled which only made Jason smirk.

Jason leaned in and whispered, “He’s so easy to rile up, sometimes it’s too hard to resist.”  That got you to giggle and Damian crossed his arms and pouted.  “Welcome to the family, Y/N.”

Next was Bruce and you squirmed under Damian’s father’s gaze.  He was an intimidating man and you wondered if you would pass the test.  “Y/N, it’s wonderful to finally meet you.  Boys, give Y/N and I a moment of privacy please.”

“Father,” Damian started, but Bruce held up a hand silencing his son. 

You glanced nervously at Damian as his brothers crowded around him and watched you and Bruce head down the hall.  The two of you were silent and you tried to admire the artwork hanging on the walls.  Finally Bruce stopped in front of a door and opened it to reveal a library.  It was an impressive collection and you weren’t surprised to see what appeared to be a few first editions on the shelves.

“Have I done something to offend you, Mr. Wayne?”  You asked Bruce when you turned to face him.  He was leaning against a table watching you, gauging your reaction to things.

“No, I just wanted to ask you something important,” he said.  “Something that has to do with our... nightly activities.  I know Damian’s told you the truth about who he is and what we do.  He wouldn’t bring you here if he hadn’t.”

“This is going to be a test isn’t it?”  You asked as you took a seat in one of the armchairs present.  “You want to see if I’m worthy of knowing this secret that you’ve carefully safeguarded all these years.”

“Exactly,” Bruce said.  “I don’t trust easily, Y/N.  And neither does Damian, so it’s saying something that he told you any of this, but for my own peace of mind I need to ask you a question.  That question being: are you truly all right with Damian being Robin?”

You remember the night he told you.  It had been an accident.  He had been injured and not far from the apartment you had been living in at the time.  He had come to you seeking aid, trusting you enough to patch him back together.  It had been a shock to learn that Damian was Robin and the revelation of who the rest of his family was.  But that didn’t mean you loved or trusted Damian any less.

“It was hard at first because I was always worried about him, but it was never a question if I was okay with him being Robin.  It was more so could I handle it if something terrible were to happen to him on a mission one night.  I know that being a vigilante isn’t safe and I’ve seen him hurt before, that was how I found out that he was Robin in the first place.  And I promise you, Mr. Wayne that I will never tell another living soul even if, and I have no plans of this ever happening because I love your son, but even if we were to break up I would never tell another person.  His job is too important to jeopardize like that.  So yes, I am okay with him being Robin, I have nothing against it.”

Bruce stood and offered you a genuine smile, “Then welcome to the family, Y/N.”  You offered him a smile back and then Bruce surprised you by saying, “All right you four you can come in.”

The door opened and a sheepish Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian entered the room.  “How did I know the three of you would be listening?”

Damian had wandered over to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, placing a kiss to the top of your head.  “I only came to make sure you didn’t traumatize, Y/N with your ‘I am vengeance, I am night’ speech.”

Bruce shook his head, “I only use that with my enemies, and as far as I am aware Y/N is not an enemy.”

Dick and the others were trying hard to hold in their laughter, each of them had heard the speech over the course of their years with Bruce.  None of them could ever keep a straight face when listening to it.  “Well now that Y/N has been properly welcomed into the family can we please eat, I am starving,” Dick said.

“I second that,” Tim agreed.

“I think Alfred said the table was set and ready whenever we were,” Jason said as he headed for the door of the library.

The boys all started to file out of the room together and Damian helped you up, but stopped you before you could follow them.  “Thank you.”

“For what?”  You asked.

He shrugged, “For being amazing and for putting up with my crazy family.”

You smiled and kissed Damian sweetly on his lips, “I gotta say I love them already.  And I gotta admit I’m kind of excited to see how they embarrass you throughout the night.”

Damian groaned but before he could say anything else Dick popped his head back into the library, “Come on love birds the food’s getting cold!”

Damian shook his head and took your hand, “Let’s get this evening over with.”  You snorted and followed Damian and the rest of the family to the dining room.

Each one of them had stories about Damian and his younger days and the crazy stunts he used to pull.  They told you about Batcow and then Titus, and then Alfred the cat.  You listened as each of them shared some sort of anecdote about the youngest member of the Wayne family.  Damian watched as you laughed, your eyes lighting up whenever something funny was said.  It was worth the embarrassment to see you enjoying the evening with his family, and soon he was laughing too and turning the tables on his brothers.

When the evening came to a close Dick made you promise to come by at least once a week for dinner and possibly game night which you enthusiastically say yes too.  Promising that you would make sure Damian brought you bye.  Bruce even told you that you were welcome in Wayne Manor whenever you wanted and they all watched as you and Damian drove off together.

“I like Y/N,” Jason announced.  “I hope they come back more because I have more stories on Damian that I didn’t get to share tonight.”

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon enough,” Bruce said as he patted Jason on the back.  “Damian’s found himself a keeper.”

[fekst-fucker]

Ooo can I have the proxies with an s/o that idolizes her brother that super protective over her but they didn’t know who he was (and lowkey he could put up a fight with them and possibly win)

Bro having an older brother sounds rad. I’m the oldest but I would def throw hands for my younger sibs (ง'̀-'́)ง

Toby

- Toby is honestly a people pleaser at heart, he’s a lil happy go lucky and not necessarily jealous so it doesn’t bother him at first

- He completely understands that you have other friends to hang out with, so when you keep saying you’re going to hang out with some guy he’s like “k babe have fun :>”

- He only starts to get a little sus when he sees you hugging him or wrestling with him

- Like wrestling with (y/n) is MY thing! O:<

- He tries to do little stealth missions at first lmfao he follows your guys’ car if you go out to eat or go to a mall or something

- The fact that you guys aren’t doing anything romantic should be a HUGE hint but instead he’s like “why is he making them laugh so much >>>:(((“

- Like Toby can make you giggle pretty consistently, but your brother has you in stitches, and that really triggers Toby’s jealous tbh

- He decides that the correct response, instead of asking you about it, is just to kiss you in front of this guy

- So of course when you’re walking back up to your apartment or wherever and he comes strolling out and you go “hey Toby!” before he just grabs you and scoops you to kiss you

- And your brother is just like “wow uh okay good to meet you man I’m their brother” and Toby fucking d r o p s you

- He’s like “right. I wasn’t jealous. Why would you think that” but he definitely was 100% ready to throw hands to win u back 😤

- And he would’ve won bc he can’t feel any of the punches !

Tim

- Tim has been there and done that with jealousy, he decides not to expend too much energy on it

- He mostly watches you leave with your brother and pensively smokes a cigarette like he’s in a Spanish soap opera

- He only starts to get a little angry when you talk about him all. The time. Or if you’re always hanging out with him

- He watches you interact really closely, and he realizes after a couple of minute of watching you shove each other and laughing that there’s definitely nothing going on

- He figures you’re just close friends, and while he knows that two people are allowed to just be friends, he starts worrying about it

- He’s recovering from his incredibly insecure teenage years so he starts spiraling just a little

- Is that guy more handsome than I am? Is it because he doesn’t smoke? Is it because he’s fucking normal and doesn’t kill people? Does he bake better scalloped potatoes than I do

- He’s held it back a little too long to realize he’s spiraling, and he’s on the verge of having an anxiety attack thinking about confronting you about it

- So you come back from a day out with your brother to find poor Tim on his 8th cigarette and tearing his hair out and you’re like “are you okay?” and he says “yeah yeah yeah I’m fine why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m fine” like oooookay dude

- He finally builds up the courage while you two are almost dozed off later that night in bed to ask “who have you been hanging out with so often?” and when you say “my brother??” every fried nerve just m e l t s out of his body

- Tim would also win in a fight. He has very strong arms and has enough “fuck this” energy to stop a man dead in their tracks

Brian

- He never says much of anything, so when your brother is in town and you suddenly start hanging out with this guy every single day he just kind of gives you a little wave as you run out the door

- But literally the first time you mention a new guy he snatches his camera and follows you guys around

- Brian is really weird because he doesn’t really get jealous, he just gets really cold and will turn his nose up at you if you ask if anything is wrong

- So when you’re both sitting at the kitchen table after you had a night out drinking with your brother and other friends and Brian seems kind of off, like his arms are folded a little too tightly and he seems to be seething at you, you obviously ask “hey hun is anything wrong?”

- And he turns his nose up and shrugs his shoulders around and rolls his head back and forth all dramatically, that’s his clear cue that he’s upset

- You shove your mug aside and reach for his hand and say “tell me. Please” before he quietly goes “the new guy”

- And when you say “who, my brother?” everything suddenly clicks for him

- He’s like of course it’s their older brother. No date or side piece is funny enough to make somebody laugh that hard that much in one sitting

- The upside is that he’s also not very embarrassed! Of course, he has to go delete all his analyzed footage before you find it

- Which he didn’t do. And now you’re very mad about the worryingly extensive data he’s collected on your brother, down to possible allergies

- How do you know his allergies but not that he’s my brOTHER?!

- Brian would not win in a fight. His bones are weak from sitting in dark rooms all day

[spartanbunjase]

This week’s server sunday random dialoge prompt was:

I continued my Jason Todd/Ra’s al Ghul fic.��

Warnings: mpeg, omegaverse, Bruce is rude but he is trying. 

All the Batfam are involved. 

The Batcave was silent. Jason had been missing for close to six months. His safe houses completely stripped bare, even set alight in some cases. The family had been suitably worried. All except Damian, his only change in behaviour being how oddly quiet he’d gotten.

 They all assumed it was because he was missing the one person from his early years who cared for him. They’d pulled him into the centre of their group as they stood around Bruce at the computer. The head of their family had a dark pensive look on his face. Which wasn’t anything new for the brooding alpha. Especially not while he was wearing his ‘night’ suit.

 “Robin,” the man growled. The family tensed. It was never good when he addressed you by your code name. The boy let slip a small whimper, trying to hide behind Dick as if he knew what was about to come. “You knew didn’t you. You know where Jason has been this whole time and didn’t tell any of us.”

 Before the pre-teen could resist the pack alpha pulled up video footage from outside one of Jason’s old safe houses. It was the one that most resembled a permanent place of residence. Something Jason had refused to have since coming back.

 The family watched as the pair exchanged words then hugged. Jason handed the small alpha a package and gave him a quick scenting before disappearing from view. As they watched they saw Damian slip the package into his hand and disappear too.

 The omega looked different. Lighter in a way that reminded them of the boy who’d died. His clothes were like nothing they’d really seen him wearing and there was a cuff in his ear that sparkled so much it was clear on the video. He was also smiling, the family realising they’d only seen that expression on the omega’s face if Damian was around.

 Bruce then pulled up another video. This one showed the inside of Damian’s room. Dick was disgusted at the blatant invasion of privacy. Curling his arm around the young boy and holding him tightly.

 On screen Damian opened the parcel and pulled out a phone. It was a basic model, cheap and easily replaceable. They all knew what they were for. Calls that were difficult to trace. Bruce had cut the video so it skipped forward to the following morning. The young alpha awoke and immediately picked up the phone. Punching in a number he clearly knew by heart. The call lasted half an hour, the pup getting visibly more relaxed as the time passed.

 Next to appear on screen was a file filled with similar videos. One for each day of the six months Jason had been missing. Realisation dawned on the family.

 Damian knew.

 Damian had watched them running themselves ragged looking for the man. Had heard the distress from his brothers as they cried on their father when safe houses were found burned down and no reports of Red Hood had been heard anywhere in the Underworld. Each wondering if they’d pushed him away and triggered whatever meltdown caused him to run.

 Unable to control his reactions as the titanium box he kept around his temper shattered, Dick pushed Damian away. Screaming in frustration as tears poured down his face.

 The young alpha looked heartbroken. He’d anticipated a bad reaction, he just hadn’t expected to get pushed away. To be outcast, rejected, in a manner similar to how they’d acted towards the omega in question.

 “Where is he?” Bruce turned on his youngest. The Bat wrapping around him so he didn’t display the difficult emotions he was feeling. “Where is our pack omega Robin?”

 The pup seemed to turn in front of their eyes. Gone was the distressed child. Now he was the embodiment of his parents stoicism. Damian pulled the phone from his pocket and hit dial.

 After two rings a sleepy voice came over the line. “Pup? What’s wrong, you’re earlier than normal.” It was Jason. Their omega. He didn’t sound hurt or lost. He didn’t sound unstable like one idea that had been put forward. He just sounded sleepy and, apart from the obvious anxiety over his pup calling, strangely calm.

 “Nothing is wrong Ummi,” Damian said. He quickly changed to League Arabic. “The family discovered that I knew where you were but I didn’t want to tell them until you were ready so I phoned you instead.” The young alpha watched Bruce twitch at the language swap. He’d never taken the time to learn League Arabic; never having the intention of needing it. Damian had no plans to teach him either. There were only two people in the family who knew it and both were talking via the phone.

 “Ugh, seriously,” Jason groaned. Dick could just picture his brother running a frustrated hand through his hair. He wasn’t speaking Arabic, luckily. Although there was the edge to his voice indicative of a man who’d spent his early years speaking exclusively in Spanish.

 Tim stepped between the youngest Robin and their father. Hands held out in a placating manner. “Hey Jay, it’s Tim. We just want to know where you are, that you’re safe, and that you’re happy. We know Damian didn’t intend to let us worry as he did, he did a bad thing for a good reason. Just, please Jay.” Everyone present could tell he was using his victim voice. The one they all had a variation on that they used to help calm the victims and get the most evidence from them.

 The omega let out another groan. It sounded like he was rolling over in bed. Sheets being untangled as Jason cursed quietly in Spanish. “Sorry about that Baby Bird, just getting comfortable as I have a feeling this isn’t going to be a quick call. Yes, I’m fine. I’m safe and, excusing this phone call that’s woken me up far too early, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

 The family felt the guilt land over them like a thick blanket. They’d not managed to make him happy. A pack filled with alphas and betas hadn’t managed to make their only omega happy. How much had they failed him that that was the case. What hadn’t they done to let him know how much they loved him.

 A smooth, recognisable voice suddenly came over the line. Slightly muffled as they spoke more to Jason than the phone. “Why are you on the phone so early my Beloved? You must get your rest.” Damian’s cheeks flushed as he listened to his grandfather. He’d never heard the man sounding quite as fond as he did, a softness to the sharp edges that made the man. The man was right of course. As it was around eight in the evening in New Jersey it’d be closer to six in the morning for the couple.

 The Bat growled. Ra’s al-fucking-Ghul had his son, his pack omega. It didn’t make any sense. Jason wasn’t one to be easily manipulated; so why was he there?

 Another curse came across the line, almost as if Jason had forgotten he was still on the call. “You calm down, right now B! I mean it! Otherwise I’ll come get my pup and you know it’ll be bloody.”

 Bruce looked like he was going to murder someone, fists clenching and straightening out as he tried not to punch something. Dick, however, was too lost in nostalgia to notice. His little brother had been chopping and changing between English and Spanish. An adorable behaviour he’d always had in the mornings. It was another thing he’d not heard his Little Wing do since before his death. The list now suddenly inexplicably very long. Well, no, there was an easy explanation but Dick didn’t want to admit to himself that he was the reason they’d not bonded.

 “If you bench Dami for doing something bad for a very, very good reason I will shoot you. Or at least order the ninjas that follow you all on patrol, on our behalf, to pull back from protecting you. Wonder how long you’ll last without it.” Jason was more awake now, ranting and cursing Bruce out in Spanish. A sure sign that Jason was getting too angry too quickly. The den mother that he’d become to Damian awakening at the imminent threat to his pup. Even if that threat was only to have something he loved and thrived with taken away. He wouldn’t let the kid suffer for something he’d asked them to do.

 Damian whined as Bruce began to growl louder. A thunderous noise that had him whimpering in fear. He’d not had a fear response like that in a long time, not since he’d been a couple of years old. The League and his mother training it out of him. The noise cut Jason off from his tirade, the man always having allowed Damian to be a kid and relax enough to have any response he needed.

 More shuffling came over the line and a whispered conversation was almost heard. More noise than words. “Okay, Beloved, if you insist.” Ra’s said, his voice getting louder as he obviously bought the phone to his ear. “My deepest apologies for all that, my Beloved is just getting dressed. He said you would know the code you needed to input in the zeta transport and he will meet you there. I look forward to having my Jason’s pup coming to stay with us.” Without waiting for a farewell the man ended the call.

 The pup could feel the eyes of the rest of the pack on him. He had deceived them all, but what was he supposed to do with how they’d made Jason feel. His Ummi was the most important person to him. Damian had just wanted them to find happiness and had known that that happiness would be found with Ra’s since he was a young pup. The man doted on his Ummi like no other alpha ever had, valuing him for his strength and mind as much as his looks.

 Training forced Damian to straighten his back and look each member of the pack in the eye. He didn’t regret what he’d done. He couldn’t. Jason had sounded happier with every call. More relaxed and closer to the Jay he’d spent many an hour with in the nest back in the palace. The pre-teen raised his gaze to meet that of his father. That sliver of fear trying to work back in was mitigated by the fact he’d be in his Ummi’s arms sooner than he thought he would be. A plan from years ago now coming into effect if he’d heard Ra’s correctly.  

 “You have something to say I presume Father.” Damian’s voice was a haughty coldness they’d not heard in years. A boy trying to hide his emotions like the man in front of him.

 “That was highly irresponsible of you. We are all coming with you to get Jason back. He is this pack’s omega, not another one of Ra’s harem.” It’s clear the pack alpha expects to be obeyed. His brain visibly blue-screening when Damian tuts at him and rejects him.

 “You seem to be mistaken Sire.” Dick cringes at Damian changing to Sire. It’s a great offence to call anyone that in America, even if it is accurate to their role in conception. It showed you place that person lower than pack, lower than anyone you have come to see as a parental figure. A role Dick is now sure Jason has filled for Damian. “I am going to see Ummi. I might send for my things, however, knowing Jason and his alpha as I do; I probably won’t have need of most of them. Richard, I am sure you will know the items I wish to have with me. Thank you for all you did for me while I couldn’t be at my Ummi’s side.”

 He cast a scathing look back towards Bruce. Green eyes ablaze with a torrent of emotion. “Jason was just reaching a point where he was going to invite all of you out to stay for a week. I will talk with him but I am sure the offer will now only extend to my siblings.” He bowed, just as he had been trained to do. Just as he’d stopped doing when Jason had returned to the family after Bruce’s disappearance in time and he’d been the Robin to Dick’s Batman.

 Without waiting any longer the young alpha marched over to the Batcomputer and input one of the codes he and Ummi had buried there years ago. Take me home. A simple code that would be verified on Jason’s end with; wherever you are is home. It overrode the tracking ability of the zeta and allowed them to travel to Nanda Parbat undetected. It would only work if the person on the other line was there to respond. The code he’d used would be wiped clean as soon as Jason accepted it.

 As the swirling light of the transport filled the bay behind the vehicles Damian cast his Sire’s pack one last look. He would be seeing most of them again just outside of the place they all felt most at home. They wouldn’t be being true to themselves. As the light enveloped him, Damian gave those present a wave.

 When the swirling light receded he found Jason waiting for him. A car idling nearby and the area clear of all personnel. Damian ran to his Ummi, fully intending to throw himself into them. Skidding to a halt when he realised why Jason had called him to Nanda Parbat instead of collecting him from Gotham. A soft curve barely visibly under the baggy t-shirt. Ummi was pregnant.

[katekaned]

i want your midnights

my @lgbtincomics​ secret gift exchange gift for @kaurwreck! 

“So… I heard you have a date for tonight’s party, Hel.” Dinah’s voice thrummed with barely contained glee, even over comms, as Black Canary and Huntress sped through the streets of Gotham toward that night’s (really, early morning - it was 2 am) target. 

Helena’s reply came tersely through Dinah’s earpiece, “It’s not a date.” 

“Well, I heard from Babs who heard from Steph who heard from Tim who heard from Kon who heard from Lois who heard from Maggie who heard from Kate… that a certain ex-detective Montoya will be accompanying you to the Clocktower festivities tonight. Sure sounds like a date to me.” 

“Can we try and keep our personal lives out of the field tonight?” Barbara broke in to reprimand them. 

Dinah cheerily responded, “Well, we never have before, so I don’t really see any point in starting now, O.” 

A deeply resigned sigh came over the comms to which Dinah cackled and Helena gave a begrudging smile under her motorcycle helmet. 

Barbara’s voice crackled across the comms again. “This is a simple mission, guys. Get in, make sure Seeber gets the message, then get out. Got it?”

“We’ve got it, O. After spending the past month taking down this dick’s trafficking business, tonight will be a breeze,” Helena replied. 

“It’s just too bad Zinda’s not with us - she could really put the fear of God in this bastard,” Dinah chimed in. 

“Canary, we agreed this was a two-woman job -  and besides, Zinda’s been hard at work decorating the Clocktower since midnight.”

“Only because you wouldn’t let me start any earlier!” Zinda’s brassy voice came through their earpieces loud and clear. “This clocktower will not become party ready all by itself!”

“Ooh that reminds me,” Dinah said in a sing-song tone. “Hel - you need to look like an absolute BABE for Renee tonight. Please let me take you shopping for a date outfit this afternoon?”

“Not! A! Date!”

____________________________________________________________

Is tonight a date? 

Renee’s mind was always filled with a hundred different thoughts at any given moment - cases she was working on, what to have for dinner, various exercise regimens and dozens of other things, all competing for her full and undivided attention. Most days, she’s a consummate pro at multitasking but, this December 31, one thought returned again and again to the forefront of her mind.

She paced all around her apartment, careful to step over the piles of gear strewn haphazardly on the floor, as she pondered whether or not Helena Bertinelli, her occasional (though more and more frequent) partner in vigilantism, had invited her to a New Year’s Eve party tonight as a friend-date or … as a date-date. The party was being hosted by Helena’s crime-fighting team, the Birds of Prey, and, according to her, was going to be a relatively small affair attended by teammates and a few affiliated heroes. Which did little to assuage Renee’s anxiety. 

Renee Montoya is not typically one to worry about such silly and mundane things as whether the girl she (potentially) likes likes her back. Renee Montoya sleeps with women and breaks their hearts and she doesn’t do the whole dating thing. (Not anymore. Not after Daria. Not after Kate.) So to feel her heart jumping in her throat like she’s a damn schoolgirl again is not a familiar sensation and she doesn’t like it, not one bit. 

Outside her windows, the telltale early signs of a winter storm were taking place. The wind picked up, whistling sharply through the alley below and carrying white flurries along the way. Overhead, thick, gray storm clouds menaced the city of Gotham, giving no indication that they were going to dissipate any time before midnight. 

Just as Renee felt herself about to begin dissecting and analyzing every interaction she’d had with Helena since she asked her to attend the party with her, a sharp rap sounded from her door. Trying to ignore the sweat gathering under her armpits, she ran her hands through her hair one final time and went to open the door. 

“Hey, I know I didn’t buzz up, but your doorman recognized me, I think from when we had drinks a few nights ago, uh, and he just let me up, so, yeah…” Helena trailed off as she took in the funny expression on Renee’s face. “You feeling okay, Montoya?”  

Renee was not, in fact, doing okay. In fact, the very sight of Helena Bertinelli standing in her doorway, looking absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous had driven all the air out of her lungs and all coherent thought out of her brain. Helena’s dark curls were piled high on her head with a few stray curls framing her face and she wore a black cropped turtleneck with the tightest pair of leather pants Renee had quite possibly ever seen. Fortunately, at Helena’s confused expression, a few synapses in Renee’s brain began firing again and she managed to stop looking like she had recently been concussed. 

“Oh, um, I was just, uh, thinking … it’s kind of cold for, y’know, a turtleneck.”

Oh, God, now she knows you were looking at her abs! Say something different! Anything!

“Not that there’s, uh, anything wrong with that, you look great, I mean, you always look great. Um. D’you wanna come in and drink something?” 

Great save, Montoya. How are you the same suave lesbian who managed to bed a woman in Kahndaq of all places? 

As Renee held the door open for Helena to enter her apartment, she tried to keep her eyes from gazing too long at any ... particular part of her body and, in doing so, missed the shy smile on Helena’s lips at Renee’s flustered greeting. Helena sauntered into the kitchenette area and sat down on a barstool at the counter. 

“What do you have?” 

“I’ve got lemonade, OJ, water, of course, and some non-alcoholic eggnog that Kate and Mags brought over earlier this week!” 

Renee managed to find two clean glasses and turned to Helena, waiting for her response. She noticed an almost pensive furrow in her brow that definitely wasn’t there before. The playful light in her eyes also seemed to have vanished. 

“Just some water will be fine. I’ll need to be well-hydrated to withstand even one of Zinda’s drinks tonight.”

“Alright, then,” Renee shrugged and grabbed a pitcher from her fridge, filling the two glasses and handing one over to Helena. “Are Zinda’s drinks really that potent?”

“Oh, God,” Helena snorted in the middle of her first sip. “Just be grateful you don’t drink anymore because that shit could take down a fucking elephant.” 

Renee inhaled sharply through her nose as she drank deeply from her glass of water. 

Helena flushed deeply and shot an apologetic look across the counter. “Shit, Renee, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of -”

Renee cut her off, “It’s fine, really, Helena. We should be heading out now anyway.” 

She made her way briskly over to the entrance table where she kept her wallet and keys and shoved both into her jacket pockets. As she opened the door, she turned back to look at Helena, who was still looking rather like a kicked puppy, and gave her a sharp smile. 

“Come on, princesa, you’re the one who knows where the fuck where we’re going.” 

As Helena rushed out the door and started toward the stairs, Renee turned to lock the closed door behind her and took a slow, deep breath.

So not a date.

______________________________________________________________

As soon as the elevator doors slid open, Renee and Helena were hit by a barrage of sound and lights from the loft space at the top of the Gotham Clocktower. Stepping out into the brightly lit, colorfully decorated and rambunctious party from the cold, damp and dark streets of Gotham was a jarring experience. Seeing the party already at full tilt, sent a fresh prickle of nerves through Renee, when she felt a cold hand slip into hers and squeeze it tight. 

She glanced up at Helena’s face. Much of the tension from the motorcycle ride over and the brief yet eternal ride up the elevator seemed to have disappeared upon their entrance into Helena’s second home. Helena smiled softly at Renee. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll show you around.” 

As Helena tugged her further into the celebration, Renee felt her heart give an involuntary skip. 

Stop it, she admonished internally. She’s just being friendly.

“This is the kiddie table!” Helena’s face looked almost completely different with the giant, shit-eating grin she sported as she gestured to six young girls grouped around a flat-screen television, all with video game controllers in their hands and surrounded by bowls of various snacks and bottles of soda.

“Just because you guys are ancient doesn’t make us kids,” fired back a tall, blonde girl in a purple sweater without even looking up from the TV screen. “Anyways, Cass and I are only here because Zinda promised to slip us one of her special cocktails at midnight.” 

Helena narrowed her eyes at the shorter, dark-haired girl sprawled out next to the blonde, who just smiled and gave a what-can-you-do shrug. 

“Not under my watch, she’s not. Unless we’re suddenly a year in the future and you both are 21, there will be no underage drinking tonight.”

“Can’t be watching us… when you’re busy watching her,” the dark-haired girl replied smugly. 

Helena sputtered violently at that and the entire group dissolved into giggles. Renee noted that all of them were teenagers with the somewhat incongruous exception of a nine-year old who was busy shoving handfuls of M&M’s into her mouth. Two of the girls were blonde, three, including the nine-year old, had black hair and one of them had bright red hair. 

Blushing furiously, Helena spoke loudly over their snickers, “ANYWAYS. These gremlins are Stephanie, Cass, Mia, Lori, Charlie and Sin and they are all little shits. Enjoy your video game, girls, Renee and I are going to go talk with the adults now.” She said the last part pointedly, giving a killer stink eye to the rambunctious group. Tilting her head, she signaled to Renee that it was time to move along. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, Helena…” Renee began talking as they weaved their way past countless obnoxious New Year’s themed decorations.

“What the hell are the Birds of Prey doing partying with a bunch of kids?” Helena flashed her signature sharp smile at Renee who felt her treacherous heart thump a little harder.

“Yeah, pretty much,” she’d only worked with the Birds a few times but she’d never seen any of those girls with them before. Although, a few of them did look awfully familiar.

“They’re family,” Helena replied. When Renee only looked more confused at her response, she explained further, “Steph and Cass are Spoiler and Batgirl. Cass is basically Babs’ daughter and where Cass goes, Steph goes. Mia is Speedy and like a surrogate daughter to Dinah and Sin is Dinah’s actual, adopted daughter. Lori and Charlie tried to get into the superhero business a while back and Babs basically took them in. She keeps them housed and fed and going to school and loves them like daughters, too. So, yeah, they’re family.” 

Renee and Helena had stopped walking at some point in their conversation and were now standing between a set of giant, glittery numbers spelling out the upcoming year and the largest, most elaborate display of cupcakes Renee had ever seen. While Helena talked, Renee tried her hardest not to stare at her exposed abdomen or her leather-clad legs and, in doing so, found herself watching her full, dark purple-painted lips move as they formed words that Renee was definitely supposed to be listening to. After they’d stopped moving for a few seconds, Renee’s gaze snapped up to Helena’s sparkling brown eyes and blushed at her knowing look.

“That’s … pretty awesome that you guys have, like, a superhero family,” Renee ended up saying.

“Yeah, it kind of is.” Helena’s hand brushed against Renee’s.

Renee stopped breathing for a second.

“HEY YOU LOVE BIRDS! Stop hiding over here and come join the par-tay!” 

Popping out from behind the giant, glittery 2 came Zinda Blake in all her obnoxiously loud and exuberantly happy glory. She was wearing the classic bartender outfit of slim, dark pants and black vest over a white shirt and her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She had a devilish smirk on her face as she wiggled her eyebrows at Renee and Helena. 

“Zinda! We weren’t even-” Helena started to snap at her but Zinda just laughed and turned back the direction she came from. 

“I’m just bustin’ your chops, Hel. But you really should come say hi to some more people or they’ll start wondering what you two are up to.”

Zinda winked at the two of them then began walking toward another group of women, clearly expecting Helena and Renee to follow, which the two women did after only a brief glance at each other’s embarrassed face. 

In quick succession, Helena greeted and Renee was introduced to a Cindy, Kendra (who she was pretty sure was freaking Hawkgirl), Sonia, Kate (Spencer, not Kane) and Dawn. They were all friendly and welcoming (and evidently more than a little drunk) but Renee could have sworn as soon as Zinda led them away, they all started whispering and … did money exchange hands? 

Renee still wasn’t sure whether she’d made the right decision, deciding to come to this party with Helena. She obviously enjoyed spending time with her and the party wasn’t awful or anything, but she just felt … out of place among all these team members, who knew each other so well. She had turned down a quiet night at Kate and Maggie’s for this! And why? Because she thought, just maybe, Helena had invited her because she was interested in her as more than a friend? Renee felt stupid for even thinking that could be the case. Even if Helena did think she was attractive, she’d never once done anything to truly indicate that she felt something romantic for Renee. And after her comment back at Renee’s apartment … well, they didn’t talk much about Renee’s past struggles with addiction but Renee felt surer than ever that anyone who knew that about her would never be able to feel anything more than pity for her. 

Lost deeply in thought, Renee hadn’t even realized that they had reached the elaborate bar at the other end of the loft. Zinda slid behind the counter and started mixing, in Renee’s opinion, far too many liquids from different bottles together in an enormous mixer. Seated right by the bar was Barbara Gordon, Oracle herself, and Renee’s old boss’s daughter. She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around Jim Gordon’s little girl being the mysterious and all-knowing Oracle that every superhero and vigilante had asked for help from at least once. And sprawled across Barbara’s lap, her fish-net clad legs dangling over the arm of her wheelchair was Dinah Lance, the Black Canary. Even though Renee had met Dinah and even worked briefly with her before, she still felt a bit awe-struck in the presence of the stunning blonde. Her reverie was quickly ended, though, as Black Canary was, well, pretty damn plastered, if the empty glass in her hand and the glazed look in her eyes was any indication.

“Whatever was in this drink, Zind, is fucking magical,” she slurred in Zinda’s general direction while Barbara ran her hands through her sweaty, messy hair. “I feel unshtoppa- umshoppab-” 

Dinah frowned as she struggled to articulate the word, then shrugged, “I feel like dancing! Take me back to the dance floor, Babs!” She ordered imperiously while stumbling off of her lap and beginning to stagger back to where some of the others were dancing to some music that was undoubtedly selected by one of the teenagers. Now that Dinah was out of Barbara’s lap, Renee could see that the mighty Oracle was also wasted, though not nearly as much, and she watched as she wheeled off after Dinah. 

Helena had a funny look on her face as she also followed her two best friends progress across the room. After a minute, she realized she was staring and turned back to Renee, who was feeling and looking quite lost again.

She started to apologize, “I’m so sorry, Renee, I really didn’t think they’d be this drunk already. I know they’re the only other ones you really know here and I thought -” 

Renee cut her off. “It’s New Year’s Eve, people get drunk, it’s fine, Helena. It really doesn’t bother me.” 

Helena continued to look upset, though, so Renee turned to Zinda and asked, “Any chance you’ve got something non-alcoholic back there that’s not soda?” 

Zinda paused mid-shake. 

“On New Year’s Eve, lady? You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me! I’ll mix you up something so divine, you won’t even taste the alcohol-”

As Zinda spoke, three things occurred in quick succession. Helena attempted to leap over the bar, whether to slap a hand over Zinda’s unthinking mouth or strangle her, it’s impossible to know, because even Helena Bertinelli can only do so much while wearing the world’s tightest leather pants. Instead of cleanly soaring over the bar, she crashed into it, knocking bottles and glasses every which way. As everyone in the tower started to look toward the commotion, Renee Montoya took off toward the closest set of doors, which turned out to lead to a small balcony on the south-facing side of the tower. And, lastly, Zinda Blake’s brain caught up with that fast-shooting mouth of hers and she remembered that Helena had already told them that Renee abstained from drinking, and while she could be around alcohol, maybe don’t offer her any? 

“Hel, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even thinkin’,” Zinda said, as Helena peeled herself off of the bartop and ignoring Zinda’s apologies and the mess of glass and liquor, rushed to the very doors Renee had just gone through. 

Helena burst through the double doors out into the freezing, wintry air. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see out there but it almost certainly wasn’t Renee laughing her ass off, already covered in melting snowflakes and surrounded by an assortment of incongruously green plants. 

Pausing in confusion, Helena managed one word, “What-”

Renee caught sight of her disheveled and distraught appearance and just started laughing harder. 

“How are there … fucking tropical plants growing out here?” She wheezed. “It’s below fucking freezing.” 

Still baffled, Helena responded, “Um… during a mission, we, er, liberated some of Poison Ivy’s experiments and after Babs determined they weren’t dangerous or anything, she put them out here. Turns out they’re, like, immune to the weather or some shit.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense.” 

As Helena was talking, Renee slowly pulled herself together and grew more somber. Helena started to move toward her.

“I should’ve known this was a bad idea.”

“...what?” Helena stopped in her tracks at Renee’s words.

“Coming here. To a Birds of Prey New Year’s Eve party. I don’t belong here… I’m the Question not fucking Hawkgirl or Black Canary or whatever.” 

“I don’t have any special powers, either.” Helena frowned. “And you do belong here. Because I invited you.”

Renee shook her head and turned to look at the view from the balcony. “Kate said this was a bad idea. I should’ve just listened to her.” 

Helena’s frown grew bigger. “Of course, this is really about Kate Kane,” she muttered.

Renee whipped around. “What the fuck do you mean ‘of course it’s really about Kate Kane?” 

“I mean that you’re still in love with her! And you can’t let yourself be happy with anything or anyone that’s not her!” Helena’s eyes widened as the words left her lips and she slapped her hand over mouth, but it was too late.

Renee’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m still in love with Kate? And so, what, you invited me to this party to try and protect me from her? Just like you’re trying to protect me from alcohol? I don’t need your fucking protection, Helena!” 

Helena reeled backwards at that. “No! I-I didn’t- I never-” She slowed. “You think I’m trying to protect you, Renee?”

“Well, yeah,” Renee answered. “That’s why you can’t act normal around me and alcohol and you freak out whenever I talk about Kate…” She trailed off at the look on Helena’s face.

“Renee… I don’t think I need to protect you. You’re just about the biggest badass in Gotham City, if not the entire planet!” Helena exclaimed.

“Bigger than Batman?”

“Easily bigger than Batman.” Helena started to move toward Renee again. “I - I was acting so weird tonight because I’m really fucking nervous, okay? And, I know I can be an inconsiderate bitch sometimes, and there’s so much alcohol on New Year’s Eve and I just didn’t want to act or say anything bitchy. And so I acted like a fucking idiot instead who thinks you can’t handle being around alcohol. I’m so stupid,” Helena spun and slammed her fist against the wall of the tower. 

In the span of just five minutes, Renee had gone from feeling completely and utterly foolish and desperate to this wild, electric buzzing under her skin as Helena explained her actions. She licked her dry lips. 

“And… the stuff with Kate…” 

Helena didn’t face her. Staring at the wall, she said quietly, “I act weird when you talk about Kate because I know you’re still in love with her and … I’m so in love with you it physically hurts me to hear you be in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.”

Renee tapped on Helena’s shoulder. As Helena turned around, slowly, to face her, Renee slid both her hands up Helena’s muscular arms and grabbed her face gently. 

“You idiot,” but she said it like she didn’t really think Helena was an idiot. At all. And she stretched up on her tiptoes and placed the lightest kiss on those stupid purple lips of hers.

Helena’s eyes fluttered shut and Renee couldn’t help admiring the way her long, dark lashes brushed against her cheekbones. 

“You’re … not in love with Kate?” Helena whispered, too scared to open her eyes or move a muscle, lest Renee vanish into the dark night.

“Kate… is my best friend. My first love. But she has Maggie, now, and I … I … have you. If you’ll have me?”

Helena smiled tearily and pressed her lips against Renee’s again. This time it was not light and it was not gentle.

And they stood like that, wrapped in each others arms, kissing in the snowy night air, until Zinda opened the doors, Dinah and Babs (both far more sober then they’d been earlier in the night) behind her. 

Simultaneously, the trio’s faces moved through showing concern, shock and, finally, happiness, entirely unnoticed by Renee and Helena. 

Dinah finally cleared her throat and spoke, “You guys okay out here? Well, midnight’s in ten minutes. if you were curious, but it, uh, seems like you’ve got this handled.” 

They so had it handled. 

[weshallc]

This is so exciting, can’t wait to see what happens next! (No, I honestly do forget)

Berns Night (Revisited) 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Call the Midwife AU (Crown Jewels, everyone but Paddy and Bernie at Mount Busby)

Chapter Three: OF MICE AND MEN

“The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men. Gang aft agley. An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain. For promis’d joy!”  To A Mouse by Robert Burns 1785.

“Liars and Lovers Combine Tonight, We’re Gonna Make A Scene.” The Captain by Biffy Clyro 2009.

The largest reception room at Mount Busby Farm would have once been very grand, with Queen Anne furniture and Regency coffee tables. The only thing that remained unchanged was that the original fireplace still gave up warmth and light provided by nature, and the windows let in the light from the same star constellations and the same moon.

The Two Loves preferred antique furniture of a later period and in their 80s comfort was paramount. The room was stocked with love seats, chesterfields, recliners. bean bags, generous cushions, and a rather charming gold settee that suspiciously looked pre-war. Just no one was sure which war. Everyone mocked it, but everyone fought to sit on it as it was very comfy. Patsy often talked about replacing it, but Delia wouldn’t hear of it. “You don’t throw your memories out with the rubbish and there are more memories than just ours hidden within these cushions, Cariad.” That was always the end of it.

The most current occupants of that particular settee to be making memories were Tim Turner and Lucille Anderson. Phyllis looked over at the awkward teen, who was no longer as awkward as he had once been. He sat comfortably chatting to his companion, both of them laughing at intervals. Lucille often finishing Tim’s sentences or him proclaiming, yep that’s it or knew you’d get it when they appeared to reach a level of understanding.  Of course, when she asked the student nurse about her new friendship, she would just reply, brushing the older nurse off. “Oh, he is a dear boy; He makes me laugh.”

He was certainly doing that from where Matron Crane was sitting on a leather tan Whitworth dining chair, probably by Frank Hudson.  Years of heavy lifting before the introduction of patient hoists and transfer boards had taken their toll on the matron’s back. It was why she had found herself in a more managerial role much earlier than she would have planned. She looked at Student Nurse Anderson and thought maybe the NHS was in more tender capable hands than the shitstirrers would have them believe.

“I am wondering if we should start,” youth minister Tom Hereward was on his feet. “I am not sure how long baby will sleep in a strange house.”

“I have been called many things in my time, but not sure strange is one of them,” laughed Delia.

“Oh, I have Deals, it’s fine,” reassured Patsy.

Tom turned pink. Trixie leaned over to him, “They are joking,” and sat back onto the giant purple pouffe she was sharing with Valerie. “I know, I live here. I have to put up with it all the time.”

“So. Erm who is in charge, who has the most authority here.” Tom was still trying to create some sense of order.

“Well, Julia is the vicar,” chirped in Bobby, trying to offer her husband some support.

“But this is not the church,” Rev Julia responded with a warm smile.

“Another shock there then, it’s all coming out tonight, Patsy.” Delia couldn’t help herself when she had an audience and a bottle of Prosecco was being passed round.

“Matron Crane is on the council,” Lucille reminded everyone.

“No, I don’t think that matters lass, it’s not a council matter.” Phyllis shook her head.

“Well, someone needs to take the lead,” Tom said with a hint of irritation.

“I will!  On the authority that I am a young woman on her only night off of the week,” struck up Val, “but I have agreed to come here and discuss plans for Bernie’s birthday instead of having two for one sex on the beach.”

“It’s a cocktail, and its happy hour in the Fourteen Teacups on a Tuesday,” Trixie interpreted for everyone.

“That’s ambitious having a happy hour in the Teacups, isn’t it?”  said Fred, who had managed to wedge himself into a deep red Chesterfield.

“Yeah, apparently Ursula gives you the right change, that’s why they call it happy hour,” Tim smirked.

“As I am representing the Crown. I will continue,” said Val and she did, “we want to put on a Burns Night for Bernie’s birthday like in the old days. Now Tim has told us Paddy is half Scottish.”

“Why isn’t he here?” asked Bobby.

“Well, he said it would look suspicious if he left Bernie on her tod behind the bar on a Tuesday night,” Vi explained sitting on a scarlet love seat next to Fred.

“Yep, in case our two Tuesday night regulars rush the bar at once,” snorted Val.

“I think it’s more that it would look suspicious if he actually just left Bernie alone for five minutes,” Trixie corrected.

Lucille felt Tim squirm in the seat beside her. She knew he thought the world of Bernie, but didn’t like to hear her relationship with his father discussed in public. This was inevitable being a small village with one pub, one church and two of the village's most popular inhabitants linked to both. She tried to ease his tension.

“I think it’s lovely, just shows as my grandma used to say there may be snow on the roof, but there is still fire in the grate.”

As everyone surrendered to laughter, Matron shared a smile with the vicar, both of them confirming Lucille might be familiar with the saying, but maybe not its meaning.

Delia was the first to keep a straight face, “But they are only bairns, wait until they are mine and Pats age then the fire may need a little bit of stoking.”

“Yes, Deals, but remember we have never required the use of a poker.”

Val swiftly continued, “Paddy doesn’t wish to be involved.”

“Why?” Reggie asked, perched on his wooden stool.

Val motioned towards Tim, who was still recovering from the last topic of conversation.

“Because it would look ridiculous, his words not mine.” Tim continued, “and I quote, Wilf had the works, I would look like I was trying to pull a stunt to impress Bernie by looking like I was dressing in drag and taking the piss.”

Tim looked at his knees, and Lucille gave one a quick squeeze. She knew this wasn’t easy for him.

Everyone else also looked at their knees. The mood was solemn.

“We can all understand Paddy’s reasons.” There were a couple of nods and sighs in response. “But we aren’t putting up with any of that nonsense,” Val added with a grin.

This was met with a very large and unanimous cheer.

“Well, I’ve already looked up the Turner tartan,” Trixie handed an iPad over to Patsy via Val.

“That’s very smart,” approved the artist.

“Sorry I hate to throw a spanner in the works, but how are we going to afford all this?” butt in a pensive Vi.

“We’ve already thought of that,” grinned Delia, ”Mount Busby will cover the cost of the costume.”

“That’s very generous,” sniffed Evie, who had nearly dozed off in a leather recliner.

“Not really,” explained Patsy. “I have a friend that works for Kilts 4 U and they are very interested in looking into the possibility of making an alpaca lined sporran.”

This was news to Reggie who followed anything relating to his charges with great interest, “What’s a sporran?”

“It’s where he keeps his spare change,” Fred enlightened, or at least tried to.

“It’s the little purse that men wear at the front of the kilt, Reggie,” Violet elaborated. He seemed reassured by this.

“So anyway, in return for a few samples,” Patsy continued, “my friend will be happy to hire out the full regalia for the evening.”

“It’s not long now until Burns Night have you got some sort of prototype ready?” quizzed Evie.

“Lady K is working on them as we speak. She loves nothing better than fiddling with a bit of alpaca wool,” Delia replied gleefully.

“Lady K?” Phyllis queried.

“Yes, she is very creative,” reassured Trixie.

“I don’t doubt it, Trixie, but she is one of Bernie’s clients. What if the lass sees what she is up too”

“Don’t fret Phyllis,” Patsy interjected, “I find that Antonia is much less forgetful when she has an occupation to challenge her and I am certain she won’t let the cat out of its proverbial bag.”

Jack sat on the floor accidently banged his head against the fire surround he was leaning against, “Can’t imagine Berns thinking; oh look Lady K is sticking bits of alpaca wool to a man’s bag he hangs in front of his todger. That must be something to do with Paddy and my birthday”

Vi was quick to admonish Jack, but when even Tom started to laugh, she decided to let it go.

“What about the little knifey thing they keep in their sock that he stabs the Haggis with?” Fred was beginning to get excited.

“Sgian dubh,” corrected Vi.

“All part of the traditional dress,” Patsy added a tone to her voice to reassure everyone that she had thought of everything.

“So that’s the gear sorted. Me and Reggie are in charge of the beer. What else?” Fred’s eyes were wide, thinking they actually might be able to pull this off.

“Well, myself and Evie have created a menu, pretty much on the lines of what we used to do in Wilf’s day.” Violet opened a small notebook and put on her reading glasses.

Clearing her throat she read, “Cock-a-leekie soup, Scottish salmon and tattie scones or scotch egg for starters.”

“Cock a what?” shouted up Jack.

“Chicken and vegetable soup to you, young man. There will be a just vegetable option too.” Violet’s voice began to take on the air it adopted when addressing an audience. “Then we have the Haggis or vegan Haggis, neeps and tatties and a whisky sauce.”

“What about those that might not wish to partake in the Haggis?” Tom asked nervously, as he might.

Evie spoke up before Vi could respond. “There is always the Fourteen Teacups for the likes of those that don’t wish to have Haggis. It’s a Burns Night. If you don’t want Haggis, then stay at home and order in a pizza.”

“What’s for pudding?” Bobby struck up, squeezing her husband’s hand.

“Cranachan which is raspberries, cream, oats and whisky, or Clootie pudding with whisky sauce or whisky ice cream or a Scottish cheese board with oatcakes.”

Murmurs of approval were aimed in Violet’s direction.

“That’s a lot of whisky?” Lucille remarked.

Violet agreed, “Yes, we need just a house whisky for everyone for the toasts Val, I will leave that to you, but you need to pay the piper with a good quality malt.”

Silence broke out in the previously buzzing, over occupied living room.

“Piper!” Several people groaned at once.  

Fred, who was not going to let anything get in the way of this Burn’s Night declared, “Look, we will just have to bung on a recording.” Turning to Tim and Jack, he said, “You lads look up the Red Hot Chilli Pipers on your phones.”

Tim reached for his phone, swiping the picture of Lucille and him with Alpaca Colin. But Lucille touched his hand, making him hesitate.

“I don’t think that would be very suitable, Mr Buckle going to all this trouble with such a delicious menu and Mr Turner all dressed up in the finest regalia and then having some squeaky din coming out of an iPhone.”

“Your right lass, it just won’t do,” supported Phyllis.

“Well, does anyone know a piper?” Fred replied wearily.

“Surely we can find a professional one online?” contributed Julia

“A professional piper that’s free on Burn’s Night at this late notice,” chided Phyllis.

“I know a piper.”

The voice came from the back of the room. Everyone turned to look at the slight dark-haired woman sat on a dining chair. “Well, I think we all do.”

“Do we, Jane?” Julia asked.

“Yes, the busker that stands outside the town hall in Appleby Thornton.”

Everyone started talking at once;

“I only go into town every second Tuesday to get my hair done.”

“Same here I only go through if I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“Well, it’s the cost of the parking isn’t it, it’s free at Tweaven Retail Park and more shops.”

“You can get it on t’internet delivered to your door.”

“I haven’t been since Marks and Spencers closed.”

“Debenhams is closing next week such a shame, that shops older than me, always been a department store in Appleby Thornton.”

“It was one of the first in the country to have a lift, you know.”

Jane cleared her throat. “There are a lot of good things about Appleby Thornton that are not always obvious.”

“Here, here!” chimed in Val, “there is still a Primark.”

“Oh well, let’s be grateful for small mercies,” stung back Trixie.

Much to Delia’s disappointment, Val bit her lip. The ex-nurse and market gardener loved a full house. She cherished her quiet times with Patsy too, but she was the more sociable of the pair. The farm was large enough for Patsy to have her office and art studio and not be disturbed while Delia fussed the alpacas with Reggie. Trixie moving in had been Patsy’s scheme, but Delia was the one who had benefited most from their new project, even if she would never let their new employee know she was a project.

Delia enjoyed listening to Trixie’s anecdotes and gossip. She felt reconnected with a world that was moving so fast. The Two Loves were business women and technology hadn’t passed them by.  It was the music, the celebrities, the trashy telly that Patsy despised and Delia loved that made having Trixie and her friends around delight Delia.

Delia’s carer probably wasn’t as up-to-date with pop culture as Trixie and her friend. Val was now a frequent visitor to Mount Busby, as she and their new lodger had struck up quite a friendship. Nurse Bernie always looked a bit behind the door when the other two were in full flow about some reality TV show.

But since Trixie had moved in, Nurse made Delia’s blood pressure check the last visit on her rounds and she drank tea, sitting and chatting with Trixie. Bernie didn’t need to watch Love Island. She had her own romantic paradise in Poplar-on-Tweaven and Delia couldn’t be more happy for her.

Val had bitten her lip, her new friend was still a bit of an enigma to her. She did know Trixie might talk as if she had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but in the last few months she had gleaned enough to know that spoon had been tarnished sometime ago. So in spite of all her bravado, Trixie was as familiar with Poundland as she was with Prada.

It was Julia who cut through the chatter. “I believe I am familiar with the young man you are referring to. He has a small dog with him if I am right?”

“Yes, Reverend.” Jane was beginning to believe she had dreamt the piper and maybe also Appleby Thornton.

“He’s rather good, as I remember.”

Jane was beaming as she nodded.

“So problem solved,” Fred rubbed his hands together with glee, “tot of whisky, a bowl of water for the pooch, bob’s your uncle, sorted”

“No, it certainly is not.” Trixie’s tone caused everyone to alter their gaze, “this man is a professional musician surely, if he has a regular spot he has a license. I am sure Chummy is well acquainted with the gentleman and his story. We can ask her.”

Inspector Noakes had been unable to attend the meeting because of work commitments, and Peter’s Tuesday evenings were spent running a youth football team that Jack and Timothy had both enjoyed being a part of. Alas, Tim had become too rangy and prone to injury, and Jack had become too lazy and prone to chips.

Trixie continued, “He deserves an appropriate wage for his efforts.” She turned to Val. “I believe the Crown has an entertainments licence.”

Val nodded and smiled reassuringly at her friend, “Paddy does, leave it with me and I will also make sure he and the mut are fed and provided with transport both ways.”

Trixie relaxed and shared a smile with the aromatherapist sitting at the back of the room. “Do you know his name?”

“Kevin.”

Fred let out a huge sigh. “So we are all sorted then?”

“It would appear so,” replied Lucille, grimacing at Tim.

“Apart from Dad.” groaned Tim.

Followed by an echo of sighs.

“Leave your dad to me, Chick.” winked Val.

[otpnessmess]

Of Casual Encounters And Late Nights

I fell face first into the Maribat hole and now I’m in too deep. Thanks to everyone over at the Maribat discord server for being so incredibly lovely <3

Next Ao3

-

When one of Gotham’s villains decided to wreak havoc in Paris, Batman saw fit to send one of his sons to investigate further before deciding whether or not it was necessary to call in the whole family. Jason was more than happy to be the chosen one and less than a day later he was walking through the streets of the City of Lights trying to track down one of the Penguin’s goons.

While on the flight he had been scheming with Tim about possible courses of action to find as quickly as possible the new base of the Penguin and that’s what caused him to be led into a goose chase all around the city late at night following a couple of guys that, according to his brother, were part of the henchmen the villain had hired while in the new city.

Immersed as he was in thinking how to infiltrate the quarters he dropped his guard for a mere second but even that was enough for him to be pinned into the wall by two of the guys he was following. Jason cursed under his breath and tried his best to break free. He was a trained assassin goddammit, he wasn’t about to let these brainless schmucks think they could defeat him. Just as he reached for the inside pocket of his jacket where his weapons were a red shadow dropped from the roof next to the alley and in two quick swipes had the idiots tied up while the third one attempted a pathetic threat that was met with an icy blue stare that made him turn on his heel and run.

“Oh no you don’t”. With practiced ease he threw a knife at the retreating figure nailing him right on the calf making him trip and land face first into the street. With a small smirk he retrieved the cursing man and brought him back to the alley, only then paying attention to the red figure. He had to do a double take as all he could think of at first was “Those are a little too many spots”. As he recovered from that though, he looked at her in the eye with skepticism. “I wasn’t aware Paris had heroes”

“You’re new here I assume then?” the girl seemed to be giving him a once over to make sure he was okay before continuing “I’m Ladybug, I take care of Paris and its citizens.”

“Nice meeting you Ladybug” he nodded in acknowledgement and then begrudgingly added a small “Thank you for helping, though I could’ve beat them myself”

She was sitting in the shadow of the building next to them and the dim light made it almost hard to see her eyes but he could tell she was smiling by the sheer amount of amusement in her tone “Oh I’m sure you could have, that knife throw was impressive but here I’d rather resolve as many things as possible without resolving to that type of violence.”

Sirens could be heard approaching their position and Ladybug turned to him again “You should get going, I’ll hand these three over to the police”

Jason definitely felt the need to protest arise but if he wanted to recover from this and keep his low profile while in the city he had better do as the woman said and nodded with a chuckle  “Until we meet again Ladybug then” he said and retreated back to his hotel for the night.

-

Marinette was not the type to linger while thinking about her encounters with civilians but there was something about this guy that left her unsettled. She was being honest when she said he could probably take the thugs out but if his approach to capturing the running guy was anything to go by, had she not intervened the fight would’ve ended a lot worse than it did. She supposed she couldn’t blame the guy for knowing how to defend himself, a lot of people in Paris started learning some kind of self-defense to at least make akuma attacks a bit more bearable. The bluenette tried to convince herself that there was nothing to worry about with this guy but then she remembered his movements and the glint in his eyes when he assured her he would’ve been okay. Fiery yet calculated (and a bit cocky if she was honest). He was used to this type of situations apparently.

“Should I be worried about him Tikki?” She turned to the tiny god floating by her monitor with a pensive expression “I have never seen him before, he didn’t know Ladybug which means he’s a foreigner and for all we know he could be dangerous”

“Or maybe he’s just well prepared. His accent sounded american, and you know they have their fair share of heroes and villains there too.” The kwami floated closer to Mari and sat on top of her head giving her gentle pats.

“I guess you’re right… I would like to keep an eye on him nonetheless if I see him again. You never know and if somehow Hawkmoth manages to snag him and turn him into an akuma…” She shivered at the thought. Ladybug and her team had fought many akumas in the previous years but the nagging feeling at the back of her head insisted that she wouldn’t like to fight against this one.

She decided she needed more information on this stranger.

As the young woman debated with herself Tikki could only stare at her in hopes that she would crawl out of the spiral of thoughts on her own. When that didn’t happen she flew in front of her chosen and patted her cheeks. “You have classes tomorrow early, you should go to sleep Marinette. You can think about all of this in the morning”

“Oh...oh right! I almost forgot about that. I have to finish my outline for the project and start sewing the prototype for-”

Tikki could see the anxiety slowly creeping on Mari’s face and put a stop to it before it could spiral out of control. “That can wait, you need sleep and if you started now it would probably go wrong somewhere and you’d have to start it from scratch later but you’d be also tired”

“You’re right Tikki. I don’t know what I’d do without you” She directed a soft smile to the tiny kwami and nuzzled her gently against her cheek “Goodnight”

“Goodnight Marinette” Tikki said before going back to her little fairy house her chosen had made just for her

After the lights were off and she had snuggled under the blankets Mari let her thoughts wander free for a moment and ugh. The young fashion designer had been so busy with her Ladybug duties lately she had started neglecting the rest of them. If she wanted to succeed in her career path and pass her classes she certainly needed to start working harder as finals were approaching at an alarming rate.

Why she had ever thought a double degree in fashion design and business was a good idea was beyond her, she imagined it would be worth it in the end to be able to make a name for herself in the industry but so far she was only regretting making a schedule that alloted for a maximum of 5 hours of sleep every night.

But it was what it was and for now all she could do was head to bed and hope her alarm could wake her up in the morning.

-

That’s it for now, I’m hoping to add more to it in the future after finals are done. Thanks for reading!

[wordsfromthesol]

Aren't You the Bad Guy? (3/3)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: You are Lex Luthor’s secret daughter. Why does he keep you so hidden? Warnings: Language, suicidal thoughts, violence, blood Word Count:  2.6k Tag list: @ghost-brocolli A/N: The last part is kinda long...sorry not sorry guys. Also should I do more on this series? I’m not sure, let me know!

Part One   Part Two

Several weeks passed and you had finally gotten used to the dull pain constantly in the back of your mind. You began exercising and regaining your strength, and finally made the decision it was time to leave. These boys had grown attached to you, and you to them. Which is why you had to leave, you couldn’t put them at the mercy of Lex Luthor and you knew it was only a matter of time before your father had found you. You grabbed a backpack and began to pack your things. Now how do I get out of here without tipping those idiots off. You tracked the fire escape to…Dick’s room. Of course. You slowly open the door, hoping that he’s not there. No such luck.

Dick immediately notices your backpack and calls for his brother’s aid.

“What, do you guys just sleep in your coms?”

“Doesn’t hurt when we are on a mission.”

Right, a mission. You had to keep reminding yourself that that’s how they saw you, as a mission. “Well good news then, your mission is over. Congratulations.”

“Y/N, you know that’s not –” Jason, Tim, and Damian emerged in the doorway.

“Do not expect to be leaving so abruptly Y/N.” To your, and everyone’s surprise, Damian was the first to speak.

“Dami…didn’t think you cared so.” You put your hand to your chest as you made your way to the window. You stopped short when you heard something, what is that…wait. You knew that sound, you pushed Dick out of the way and slammed your fist into the glass. You didn’t have time to notice the shocked faces around you as you turned on your heel and proceeded to push them out the window. Just as you began to climb through yourself an explosion knocked you through the window and over the railing. Am I finally free? Is it finally over? Suddenly, you felt arms around your waist as you no longer fell, but instead glided through the air. A tear fell down your face, as you realized that this was not, in fact, the end. You looked up and saw Dick, sweatpants and t-shirt, and…grappling gun. He landed the two of you on a nearby rooftop, where Jason, Tim, and Damian were already waiting.

“Y/N, what the hell?” You held your hand up towards Jason, as you walked over and sat on the ledge, watching the building you were just in crumble to the ground. Once the building was reduced to rumble you stood up to face the boys behind you. Only you watched their eyes trail down to your hand. In all the commotion, you had forgotten that you had just punched through a window. You began to pick the glass from your hand when Dick quickly approached and swatted it down.

“We will deal with it at the Manor.” He mumbled as he discarded his shirt and wrapped your hand, creating a temporary sling. He grabbed you by the waist yet again, and jumped off the ledge, only to carefully lower the two of you to the ground. His brothers followed in suit.

“Let’s go, it’s a quite a walk.”

Tim reached out to stop his eldest brother. “I have plan –” his explanation was cut short as Alfred pulled a car up to the alley and ushered them into the car. The entire ride back to the Manor was silent, and as you went to get out of the car, Dick picked you up once again. I’m getting real tired of this… but after looking at the expression on Dick’s face, you knew it was best not to protest. He carried you up the stairs and into his bathroom, placing you on the counter. He proceeded to open drawers and cabinets until a multitude of medical supplies was strewn out beside you.

“Opening the damn window would’ve been just as easy,” he mumbled. “Your hand is probably broken to pieces.”

“It feels fine,” you said as you began to curl your fingers into a fist.

Dick looked up at you in awe, but then continued with his disgruntled demeanor. “Well stop moving it as I’m trying to get all this glass out.” Finally, the last piece was pulled out and he lathered his own hands in soap and carefully cleaned the blood away from your own. Once satisfied, he covered the wounds in Neosporin and began wrapping it in gauze.

“You’re turning me into a mummy.”

“Well, maybe that would explain how your hand isn’t shattered.”

You gazed into his eyes, your own filled with sorrow and yearning to tell him everything. He continued on, “Y/N. What happened?” when you didn’t respond, he carried you over to his bed and turned to walk away. You caught his wrist with your good hand, though you were still unsure why. The look of hope he gave you melted away your uncertainties, and so you began.

“Lex, for obvious reasons, isn’t the best father.” You turned to lay on the bed, as Dick crawled beside you. “He doesn’t love in a healthy way. His manifests itself through obsessions. I guess he was obsessed with making me the best. Though, the best in what context, I’ll never understand. I was put through more physical and mental training…” you stopped and turned towards Dick, “well I guess probably as much physical training as you.” You gave a half-hearted chuckle, and instinctively drew yourself closer to him. “The physical stuff was easy, the mental stuff…to have someone in your mind, manipulating and molding it…” Dick was the one to pull you closer this time, feeling the tears against his body. “I got really good at hiding away the bad memories, the painful ones. I got really good at only showing him what I wanted him to see.”

Dick kissed your forehead and looked down at you, thinking your tale was over, “It’s okay Y/N, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe.”

You let out a laugh, “Oh, I wasn’t done. That’s the easy stuff to talk about…to remember.” He looked down at you with concern and worry plastered across his face. “Look, I don’t want your pity. But I’ll tell you more, if you still want to know.” He nodded, so you buried your face once again into his chest, “training was just half the battle. I never knew when I would be experimented on next, and I never knew exactly what those experiments would do. I knew about the explosion because I could hear a bomb ticking. I guess whatever Lex did to me, this latest run, allowed my hand not to break when I punched through the glass. Sometimes I…” you tried to hold back the oncoming hysteria, “I don’t know what’s actually me…and what’s property of LCORP.” With that, you broke, sobbing into the chest of a man you met a few months ago.

Dick held you tighter, “Y/N, you will always be you. Look at what you’ve overcome, look at the mind games you’ve played. All to remain you. Nothing can ever take that from you.”

You guessed you must’ve fallen asleep, as you awoke to a knock at the door and Alfred voice calling out from the other side.

“Miss Y/N? Master Dick? The family is awaiting your presence at the dinner table.”

Dick responded for the both of you, “Thanks Al, we will be right there.” Dick reluctantly loosened his grip on you, and the two of you crawled out of bed. He grabbed a t-shirt and threw it on as the two of you stalked downstairs to the dining room. You sat at the end, with Dick to your right and an empty chair to you left. An empty chair, that would not remain empty for long…as an older man strolled into the dining room. The boys all glanced nervously at each other.

“I see we have a guest,” the man ushered towards you. “Boys, do you care to explain?”

Jason, Tim, and Damian all glared at Dick. “Uhm, this is Y/N.” Dick began, conveniently leaving off your last name. “She needed our help…to escape someone from her past.”

The man looked pensively towards you, “Well, my name is Bruce. I hope my boys were able to help. Are you planning to stay long with us?”

Making sure to keep your mummified hand under the table you said, “I’m not really sure. There have been some unusual complications, but I don’t want to put your family in any danger, so I will be off as soon as I can.”

The rest of the meal was relatively silent until Bruce let out a long sigh, “Alright boys. I have been patient. Who is going to tell me the full story here? WHO is SHE?”

You stood up and brought your hands up in surrender, but before you could speak Bruce continued glaring at your hand. “What happened. I need answers now. Dick?”

You hadn’t realized Dick rose to his feet and was already standing behind you, but you answered Bruce’s question anyways. “Look, my name is Y/N Luthor. The infamous Lex Luthor is my dear old dad. Not that he’s ever done anything father-like.” Now you had let the dams open, you couldn’t stop. Dick wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, “I have been experimented on and tortured my ENTIRE life. I just wanted some peace, I just wanted to be free.” You pulled away from Dick, “And don’t think I don’t know why you came to me. You wanted to use me to get to my father…” You felt the pain creeping back into your head, M’gann couldn’t completely get rid of it, and being in the presence of the entire batfamily was beginning to take its toll. Dick, and the rest of the boys noticed you grimace in pain, but you continued on “It wouldn’t have mattered. I don’t know anything that he does, he makes sure to wipe that clean from my memory.” You stagger backwards into Dick. “Not that he cares enough to remove the pain, or the scars.” Without thinking you rip off your shirt. “Do these look like something a FATHER would do?!”

Everyone, except Dick, stared at the scars you had accumulated, while they tried to process all the information you had just handed them. Dick just steadied you and turned you to face him.

“Y/N, you need to calm down. What is happening? I’m right here, tell me.”

“M’gann…couldn’t get rid of it all.”

“What?!” All four of the boys exclaimed in unison. Dick was the only one to continue, “You mean you’ve just been living with constant pain, why didn’t you tell me? Or…someone?”

“I’ve lived with worse,” you forced a weak smile. “I think…all of you at once…it’s just –” Dick cut you off, turning to Bruce.

“I need to get her out of here. They can explain.”

Tim and Damian immediately looked to Jason.

“What, since I’m the fuck up, I get to tell the Old Man what happened?” The boys nodded in unison. “Fine…” Jason detailed the events so far, as he came to a conclusion, Tim chimed in.

“I’m already looking into the cause of the explosion. It could just be a coincidence.”

“Considering we were there, I would highly doubt that Drake.” Tim kicked his younger brother under the table and gave him a ‘duh, but I didn’t want Dad to know that’ stare. Damian just shrugged and turned his attention back to Bruce.

“Tim, I want to know as soon as you have something on that explosion. We need to figure out if they found Y/N again, and how”

“So you are not kicking Y/N out, Father?”

“Of course not, Damian, she needs our help. She can’t control who her father is.”

 ***

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I have already put you through so much…all of you…you didn’t need to worry about this as well.”

“That’s not really fair for you to decide for me…us.”

“It doesn’t affect you.”

“It affects you, so it affects me. Stop thinking you’re in this by yourself.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? You met me, what three months ago?!”

“ARGH! Who cares how long it’s been?! God, I fucking care about you Y/N.” With that he crossed the room and wrapped you in his arms, smashing his lips to yours. “Next time, you tell me, okay?” You looked up at him and nodded.

The next morning came too quickly, you woke up enveloped in Dick’s arms, as if he was afraid you would leave in the middle of the night. Which, to be fair, you had thought about once or twice. You tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp but failed at every turn. Instead you began to think. I’m not even sure if Lex is my real father. He wouldn’t have kept me otherwise, right? Can I ever be free? I mean, he knows Bruce is Batman, and yet he’s still alive. Anything to protect his public image right. Suddenly, a realization struck you.

“He kept me hidden in case one of his experiments killed me. He never did it to protect me.”

Your words had caused Dick to stir, “What?” he questioned groggily.

“Dick. Lex, he…he kept me hidden all this time. He always told me it was so you guys didn’t come after me, trying to get to him. But that was all a lie. Everything is about his image, everything. He did it in case he accidentally killed me.”

“Uh..huh...”

“I mean it all makes sense, even if I’m not actually his daughter, if I’m connected to him in the public eye…ha! He will have lost his built-in test dummy.”

“Wait…what do you mean even if you’re not actually his daughter?”

You shrugged, “guess it’s more of hoping, I mean what father could do this to their daughter, right? Now I just need a way to get in the public eye, quickly.”

“I may have an idea.”

***

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“Look, Y/N/N, it’s the easiest way. Plus Tim already uploaded all the files he found, the ones that Lex scrubbed. Once your name is said, once you’re linked to the Wayne family…everyone will know who you are. You know you can’t come back from this.”

“Dickie, there’s no other way. Even this, I’m not sure if it will work, but hopefully it will at least make it harder for Lex to get a hold of me.”

Lights flashed as you stepped out of the limo, linking arms with Dick Grayson. You heard dozens of people shouting his name, trying to get his attention. Finally, he stopped you in front of a reporter, one you thought was a little too eager to meet him.

“Dick Grayson, don’t you look dashing this evening? Who, may I ask, is on your arm tonight?”

“Well, Melody, I’d like you to meet Y/N Luthor.” Dick gave you a quick peck to the cheek.

The reporter glanced over to her crew, her eyes demanding they look you up immediately.

“Luthor, she wouldn’t happened to be related to the famous Lex Luthor?”

This time, you spoke up, “I am, he’s my father…all the rich kids end up together, don’t we?” you shot the camera a mischievous smile before ushering Dick inside.

“That was awful” you mumbled as the two of you walked into the gala.

“But you played the camera so well, almost like you’d been in the spotlight your entire life.” Dick kissed your forehead.

“Well, I have been hiding my true self my whole life, what’s the difference, right?” The two of you made your way over to his brothers, just before you approached them, Dick turned you to face him.  

“I don’t want you to have to hide, ever again.” And he planted a soft but passionate kiss on your lips.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Look at me unable to shut up about soulmates. Like, literally. This is so long it should probably be on ao3 but also? i started on tumblr so you’ll get all the typos, sorry not sorry.

Jonah appears on Jon’s throat when he is eight years old; he probably wouldn’t have noticed, if his grandmother hadn’t raised his chin and frowned in a quiet, pensive way and asked: “Is that why you’ve been so agitated, Jonathan? Have you met him?” 

Jon has no idea what she’s talking about until he’s staring at the elegant, old-fashioned name on his skin in a mirror. He thinks of Mr Spider, and a cold, terrified chill runs down his spine. Can monsters have a first name? Is this a promise or a threat? Is it even linked at all? 

His body shakes badly, and in an unusual display of affection for both of them, his grandma pats his hair and sits him up her lap. 

“There there,” she says, and her voice is gentle. “No need to fuss, Jon. Whoever Jonah is, he’ll be good to you. Soulmates always are.”

*

Georgie appears barely two months after they’ve met; he wakes up one morning and it’s right there, on his hipbone. Maybe it was here before. Jon doesn’t spend a lot of time inspecting his body. 

The next time he sees her, Georgie’s grin is wide and warm and she hugs him just a bit tighter than she usually does. “Oh,” he says, and she laughs and says “Oh, indeed. Guess we’re stuck together, eh?”

Jon’s heart is hammering in his chest. He hugs Georgie a bit tighter, too, feeling overwhelmed and quite stupid. “What a bother,” he says dryly, and it means the world that Georgie just laughs harder and doesn’t let go. 

He’ll be good to you. Soulmates always are, had said his grandmother. Jon barely thinks of Jonah, these days. But now he’s got Georgie, and he thinks he definitely wants to be good to her. 

*

Well. He tries, at least. 

He’s pretty sure he does. 

When she says, “please Jon” tired and angry, he realizes that, maybe, being good to Georgie means stepping out of her life for good, and does just that, telling himself it doesn’t feel like losing a part of himself. 

*

“Did you know,” Elias Bouchard says slowly, at the end of Jon’s job interview, “that the Institute was founded by Jonah Magnus?”

Jon feels a speck of irritation cross his mind; of course he’s known. He read everything  he could about the Institute before applying here. Anybody googling the Magnus Institute would know, it’s one of the first line of its wikipedia page. 

“Yes, of course I do,” he says, and it comes out rude and disdainful; he winces, but Elias Bouchard only looks amused. 

“I didn’t mean to offend,” he says with the shadow of a smile. “I think that you’re going to fit just fine in our Institute, Jon. May I call you Jon?”

“I, er -- yes,” Jon blinks, startled. His past interviews have never left him with the impression that it should be so easy. “Does that mean --”

“The job is yours, if you want it,” Elias nods. “I can have your contract ready for next week.”

“Ah, uh -- good,” Jon says dumbly. “I mean -- Thank you, Mr Bouchard --”

“Oh, please,” Elias waves his hand; “Do call me Elias. Everybody does.”

“Right,” says Jon. “Elias.” 

(It feels -- odd in his mouth. Elias’ smile stays bland and polite, but his eyes fall on Jon’s throat, just for a second, before moving back up; they look piercing and hungry and pleased, and Jon leaves as fast as he can, his skin itching.)

*

Jonah Magnus being his soulmate becomes an office joke the moment his colleagues spot the name on his throat. It’s hilarious, you see, because Jonathan Sims never seems to leave the Magnus Institute, married to his work and to the place. Jon rolls his eyes and lets people talk. As far as teasing go, this one is mild enough not to be too bothersome and, besides, it’s not like he’s actually ever met his Jonah. (Not like he really wants to, when he thinks of what happened with Georgie.)

(And if, sometimes, he grows curious and look up as much as he can from the elusive Jonah Magnus, well.) (It’s not like anybody can see him do so.)

*

“So, are we going to talk about it or --” Tim says, staring quite obviously at the name on Jon’s wrist. 

Jon hates the way his cheeks flush. “I’m sure there are plenty of Gerard out there, Tim,” he says primly. “Besides, I don’t think chatting about soulmates is any way relevant to a good work environment --”

“I mean, it is sort of work related if your soulmate is Gerard Keay from the statements,” Sasha points out, and Jon stares at her like she’s thoroughly betrayed him as Tim laughs. 

She gives him a sheepish grin but still high-fives Tim when he holds his hand up. Jon scoffs. 

“We don’t have to talk about it if Jon doesn’t want to,” Martin snaps behind him. 

His tone is unusually biting and Jon is taken aback for a moment. He really didn’t think Martin of all people would defend him on this particular subject. The man is probably the sort of sappy and romantic person that thinks finding his soulmates means a happy ending. Jon, of course, knows better. Still.

“Right,” he says. “Thank you, Martin.” 

Sasha and Tim exchange a glance; now they’re looking properly chastised. Jon brush his fingers against Gerard’s name, and pretends he isn’t just a bit hopeful that this is Gerard Keay, and that somehow, it means he’s not as dead as his research has led him to believe.

*

“Jon,” says Martin in a rush when they scramble up to move far away from the wall which is starting to break right in front of their eyes. “There’s -- there’s something I think I should definitely tell you, I think, before --”

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence. In the midst of everything else, Jon quite forgets it too.

*

It takes him three weeks of forced bedrest to realize there is a new name just above his heart; he stares at it for a very long time in the mirror, unable to think of what to do about the familiar, terrible handwriting of Martin Blackwood scribbled on his chest. 

*

Jon is still laughing, stupidely relieved, when Martin says: “Also you’re my soulmate. And I know I’m not yours, but I mean, since you want honesty --”

Jon’s laughter dies in a cough. Martin stares at him with wide eyes like he can’t believe he’s just said that, cheeks flushed bright red and chin  stubbornly up, and Jon opens his mouth, closes it back, and then he says “oh.”

“Yeah, so, I’ll just. Be. Going back to work, now,” Martin mutters. “Unless you want to, to accuse me of anything else or --”

“Martin,” says Jon, a bit helplessly. 

It would be so easy, to say, you’re my soulmate too. But he watches Martin’s tense posture, the way he’s looking at everything but Jon, and he remembers Georgie. The words die in his mouth, and Martin says, voice too high: “it’s alright, Jon.” and flees the room before Jon can figure out what to do. 

*

Jon tells himself it’s best not to tell Martin. Martin deserves someone who can be good to him, and that’s certainly not Jon, especially not -- now. 

Martin thinks that it’s alright to bully Jon into going for lunch now that Jon knows about the whole soulmate thing. 

Jon keeps agreeing, and Martin keeps smiling, and sometimes, Jon’s almost able to forget how hellish everything else in his life has become. 

*

He calls Martin first. He calls Martin first as he flees, and Martin doesn’t answer. 

Fair enough, he thinks, a bit hysterically. Jon messed up everything the second he didn’t tell him, anyway, and, and just because they’re soulmates --

*

“Hey,” he says numbly to Georgie when she opens the door. 

Georgie stares at him for a long time. “Jesus Christ, Jon.”

His hip itches. Jon makes a joke he doesn’t recall afterwards. Georgie lets him in, and hugs him tightly. It feels like coming home. 

*

“Is there anything else?” Elias asks. 

Jon stares at him for a very long time. “Are you still lying to me?” he asks; now that he knows what to look for, it’s like he can feel the power tingling in his throat. Elias’ eyes flutter and his mouth curls into a slow, intensely pleased smile. 

“Lying can have very many different meanings,” he tells Jon. “There are, indeed, a great deal of things I don’t intend to tell you until you figure them out. I don’t personnally consider it lying, though you might.”

“I --” 

“Go clean yourself up, Jon,” Elias continues. He sounds almost gentle, and Jon wants to rip his throat out. “We can discuss more about what will need to be done once you’re feeling a little bit less -- shaken up.”

“Fuck you,” says Jon.

Elias’ lips twitch again. 

*

Nikola caresses Jon’s hip; Jon’s wrist; Jon’s heart; she cooes at each name, teases Jon with every single one of them. She lets her thumb lingers on Jonah the longest. 

“Isn’t it quaint,” she laughs. “Do you think he’s listening?”

Jon makes a noise; she laughs harder. “Of course I’m sure he’d like to watch, but he can’t, can he? Oh, but we’ll find a way to talk to him, won’t we?”

Jon doesn’t know when the tape recorder appears; he merely knows he feels faintly relieved when Nikola grabs it and stops touching him, winking at him conspirationally instead. “Elias?” she preens into the recorder. “Can I call you Elias?”

*

“You’re mine, too,” Jon blurts out awkwardly.

Martin slowly blinks. “... What?” he asks.. 

He sounds like he’s been punched right into the stomach, high and breathless, but he’s still holding Jon to dear life, and Jon hides his face deeper into his shoulder, breathing in deeply, and he says, his voice hoarse: “You’re my soulmate too.”

“Oh.” Martin’s voice is small. “Oh. I mean did you -- is that -- where -- I --”

“I’m very bad at being a soulmate,” Jon cuts him off. He’s aware he’s gripping Martin’s too tight. “And I think I’m turning into something dangerous, and there are people out there who wants to kill me, and I need you safe -- Nikola saw -- she saw your name, and I don’t want her to --”

“You’ve -- got my name,” Martin merely says. 

“I -- yes, I’ve had for a -- it doesn’t matter, I’m saying you’re in danger --”

“You’ve got my name,” Martin repeats. 

It’s definitely giddy, now. Jon refuses to be endeared. “Martin -”

“No, no, I get it, danger and all -- but I mean, I mean, it’s been years Jon, literal years --”

Jon never asked Martin about it before; he doesn’t get to ask much more right then. Martin takes a step back, and he’s grinning wide and stupid, and Jon feels his own treacherous lips curl up in answer. It’s not exactly a surprise, when Martin bends down and presses his mouth against his. It’s a terrible idea, an absolutely horrendeous, awful idea, of course, but not a surprise. Jon lets himself be kissed and closes his eyes all the same. 

*

So Gerard is dead.

He’s no less impressive, and Jon feels awkward and eager and flushed. 

“Oh no, I’m er - Jonathan Sims? I’m with the Magnus Institute --”

Gerard stiffens. “Jonathan?” he repeats. 

Jon’s mouth runs dry. He carefully raises his left hand, and the name written on it. “Hi,” he says. 

Gerard looked at it for a long time, and then he huffs a laugh. “God, figure.”

His ghostly fingers meet Jon’s, cool and so light Jon barely feels them. On his right wrist, Jon’s name is written in his terrible, rushed handwritting. Jon’s heart skips a bit.

“Figure,” he agrees, and they both smile dryly at each other.

*

“Be careful,” says Georgie on the phone, soft and tired.  

“Please, don’t die,” Martin murmurs against his lips, terrified and hopeful all at once. 

“Thank you, Jon,” had merely said Gerry, when Jon had agreed to burn his page.

*

Elias stares right into his eyes, and his hand smooths over Jon’s collar; his thumb lingers on Jon’s neck, and Jon feels -- something.

“Good luck,” he tells him. 

“Do you have a back-up plan if I die?” Jon can’t help but ask. 

“You’ve been quite successful so far,” Elias tells him. “I’m sure you’ll be just as efficient tomorrow.”

“I’m glad one of us is feeling confident,” Jon mutters sarcastically. 

“Always, Jon,” Elias smiles, and Jon thoroughly wished it didn’t appease him as much as it does. 

*

Jon dies. 

Jon comes back.

Jon’s alone. 

It’s fitting, of course; Jon’s always been alone, apart for a few years, thanks to Georgie mostly, and he exhausted her into leaving, eventually -- not only once but twice, which has to be a rare enough feat to be mentionned. Nobody likes to speak about unhealhty soulmates, but Jon’s aware that it’s exactly what he is.

Four soulmates, and one of them is dead, the second knows better than to stay, the third is -- the third is so deep into danger than Jon has no idea if any of his words will ever bring him back, and the last never had the decency to show up.

Jon can’t think of Gerry, or Georgie, or, god, Martin;

So he stares at his throat, and looks over Jonah’s name. His oldest soulmate. He idly thinks that maybe they were all right, the ones who spent years joking about Jon being bounded to the Institute, to a man dead for centuries, the one who’d started it all, the one who was probably as much a monster as Jon has become --

Can monsters have first names? 

Jon does. He caresses Jonah’s name and thinks there’s something familiar in the pretentious and graceful way the ‘J’ is written. It’s right there, he muses. At the edge of his mind. The mysterious Jonah --

“Jon?” calls Daisy from behind him. 

“Mmmh?”

“You okay? Basira said -- I mean, you’re getting pretty intense here.”

“Oh,” he says, letting his hand fall at his side again. “Sorry, I -- sorry.”

Daisy looks at him up and down. She looks as tired as he feels. “C’mon,” she says. “I’ve found board games we haven’t played yet.”

*

Jon looks at Georgie and Melanie from afar. He’d never realized, before, what it truly meant to be envious. Jealous. He turns away with damp eyes.

*

“Look, I know we can’t talk,” Jon manages to say. “But something’s real wrong and I just wanted to make sure --”

Martin sighs. He feels so distant Jon’s heart is growing cold just looking at him. “I’m fine, Jon; I’m handling it. Just - trust me, alright?”

“You know I do,” Jon says numbly. 

Martin’s kiss on his cheek is icy. “Thank you,” he whispers. And then, with a little itch breath he adds: “I love you.”

He’s gone before Jon gets a chance to say “me too.”

*

Jon stares at his throat every day, now. He feels restless and ravenous, pulled by something bigger than him, and he knows, deep in his bones, that he won’t be able to resist its call. He’s never been able to. 

“You’re losing it, Jon,” Basira says quietly. Dangerously.

“So are you,” Jon says. He doesn’t need to look at her to see her tense. He is still staring at his throat. “We need to go see Elias.”

“No, we’re not. He’s well proven by now he’s utterly useless --”

“I’m sorry,” says Jon calmly. “I didn’t say it right. I’m going to see Elias, and I don’t bloody care what you or him think about it.”

*

Elias smiles, when he sees him; of course he does. The prison suit doesn’t hide his throat like his pressed collars and ties used to, and Jon reads his own name on his skin without any surprise at all.

“Jonah,” he breathes out, and Elias’ smiles gets brigther, his thoughts melting gently into Jon’s. 

“Hello, Jon,” he says fondly. “Is it time?”

Jon has no idea what he’s talking about.

(Jon knows exactly what he’s talking about)

Yes, he thinks.

Marvellous, Jonah thinks back. We’re going to be so good to each other, Jon. Just wait and see. 

[princessanneftw]

Surprises - Part 3

Here we are, Part 3! Just to be clear, part 2 is set in 1996, and this one in 1995 and before, if you have doubts about the timeline. Hope you like it!

Edinburgh, 22 December 1995

The city was silent, still sleeping under the misty morning air; not a lot of people were walking around this early, and even less in the harbour area, where the sea made the crisp Scottish air seem even colder; Anne pulled his jacket tighter around her body, Mark beside her, finally reaching the end of the pier, where a solitary bench was occupied by a very familiar person.

“I knew I’d find you here, it’s my favourite spot in the city”.

Peter turned at his mother’s voice, surprised to see her in the company of his father, one coffee cup each and one, he assumed, for him.

“So, you had a hunch about where to find me, but how did you know I was out here in the first place?”

Mark took a sip of his coffee before answering.

“Tim suggested this might happen because of your nervousness, and that we should find you since you tend to brood while you run, mainly because you need to relax but you also hate getting up early: Heavens know who you take after, certainly not us; your great aunt perhaps, never up before midday.”

When he was very young, Peter had marvelled at his parents routine, who woke up at the crack of dawn to go riding before starting their day, no matter the weather or the location; why would anyone want to leave their warm, soft beds to get up and exercise, for that matter why would anyone voluntarily wake up before seven o’clock? He would ask the same thing again and again, and Anne could only chuckle, telling him she didn’t think he’d understand fully.

It was actually his stepfather who’d made things clearer for him; Tim, who couldn’t be present for his debut in the rugby school league and had therefore called him nearly every day, apologizing again and again and promising to practice with him at Christmas, during his 10 days leave.

Both Peter and Tim had told her the story many times she could see the scene as clearly as if she’d been there herself: when he was 15, her son had sustained a small injury while playing rugby at school, nothing serious but enough to take him off the field for a couple weeks; back home for the weekend, he hoped his restlessness would pass, but alas, on Saturday morning he was up at 6 o’clock, wide awake and with nothing remotely fun to do.

  The house was silent, even his mother had mentioned something about sleeping a bit more, after a hectic week of engagements and travels around Britain; trying to be as quiet as possible, he went down the stairs toward the kitchen, only to find that he wasn’t actually the only one awake: Tim was at the stove, making coffee and toasts in a Navy tracksuit, a windbreaker abandoned on a chair.

“Good morning Peter” he called, without turning.

“How did you know it was me without even looking, who are you, Spiderman?”

“Don’t be absurd Peter, you know very well that I’m the Goblin, all green eyes and crooked smile. Anyway, your footsteps gave you away.”

“And you can recognize the footsteps of all the people in your life?”

“Only of those I care about. If it’s any consolation, my brother thinks the Navy trained me to be a super soldier and still freaks out every time I do this; toast?

“Yes, please.” He took butter and jam from the fridge while his stepfather put the toasts on a plate and sat before him, the two of them eating in silence for a few minutes, until Peter cleared his throat.

“Mum still sleeping?”

“Yes, she tried to get up for her usual ride, but she was too tired; it was a stressful week for her, I’m glad she’s resting.”

“And why are you up so early, did she ask you to take her horse for a trot?”

“I leave the riding to you, brave soldiers. I wanted to go for a run, see a few repairs that had to be made in the estate, just let out some steam. Work schedule was so busy I couldn’t go for a single jog this week.”

“Is this why my parents go riding at dawn every morning, to let out steam? I don’t get the appeal.”

The pensive look in the boy’s eyes and the nervous movement of his legs told Tim enough; with his best captain voice, he addressed the still eating teen.

“Come on, put on a tracksuit, you’re coming with me; we’ll just jog, so you don’t hurt your arm; you have two minutes, go.”  

Peter laughed before seeing the very serious expression on his stepfather’s face; oh well, it wasn’t as if he had anything else to do.

They came back nearly two hours later, in time to have a full breakfast with Anne and Zara: Peter was exhausted and relaxed at the same time, drenched in sweat and mud and smiling like an idiot; trying to kiss Zara earned him a shove and a “Gross, go take a shower you dork”, after which he proceeded out of the kitchen, mouthing a “thank you” in Tim’s direction.

  Anne watched him daydream for a few seconds, a soft smile on her face and her hand caressing his hair, until he snapped back to reality and drank his coffee, quite forgotten until then.

“What were you thinking about?”

“That first morning Tim took me jogging; I don’t know if I was more intimidated by his captain voice, or by his Jedi-like ability to identify my footsteps.”

“I told you before, if I’m a fantasy character than I’m definitely the Green Goblin.”

The bench occupants froze at the sudden voice; Peter jumped up and turned around, and Anne followed him, not believing her own eyes, for Tim was there, hands in his pocket, jeans and Navy windbreaker, with a crooked smile on his face and a Scotland scarf around his neck.

“We had a technical problem and had to stop just outside of Edinburgh, and in exchange of taking his night shift I left my second-in-command in control; I’m sorry it took me this long, or I would have come running with you.”

By then Peter had reached him and engulfed him in a bear hug, revelling in the presence of the quiet, loyal man he had come to love, and that had gone to incredible lengths just to see him play in his favourite team; Tim was holding him just as tight, only removing one arm to shake hands with Mark, before settling his eyes on her; he disentangled himself just long enough to greet her with a chaste peck on her lips, before looking back at Peter, rubbing his hands with a smirk.

“So, ready to kick some French derrieres?”

Laughing, Peter took Tim and Mark under his arms and started walking, discussing tactics and statistics; Anne smiled, sighing happily, before following her dysfunctional, perfect family towards the waking city.

* * *

That was super adorable ☺️☺️

I like how you focused a fic to both of his stepchildren, and both of them were really sweet to read. The idea of Tim playing rugby with Peter is both funny and cute.

Thanks so much for sending these to me anon, and keep writing!

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

"I don't think I'm know enough for anyone to actually care." Shut up I fucking love your work. OKAY. This is one of my very favorite little shorts on the entire website, and I couldn't really pick any one part of it so I'll just say the first few paragraphs and the final couple lines of "Mother Bruce and His Baby Birds" Chapter 3: Four Little Birds. (There isn't enough space in one of these to actually fit the text??)

This is the nicest berating I have ever received in my life. :)

Quick context for everyone! The ask is to do a DVD commentary on 500 words or less of any snippet of one of my fics. The fic requested here is this one (and that jumps straight to the pertinent chapter.)

I’m not exaaaactly sure how many of the first few paragraphs you had in mind, but here’s what I read this ask to cover:

Damian Wayne was not angry. Bruce was 87% sure this was true. Popping a fry in his mouth, Bruce eyed his youngest out of the corner of his eye and amended his assessment–84% sure.

Damian always looked angry to some degree, and Bruce had less experience reading this child compared to the others. Missing the first ten years of a boy’s life will do that, especially when compounded by a seven-month-long disappearance into a time stream. Bruce had been back for some time now, but he and Damian were still feeling each other out.

Bruce wondered if Dick had given Damian a verbal primer the way he had Bruce.

He’s your son, alright, Dick had warned him. It could have been a compliment. The wry grin meant it probably wasn’t, at least not entirely. When Damian’s scared, Dick had explained, he looks mad. When he’s tired, he looks mad. When he’s sad, he looks mad. When he’s pensive, he looks mad. When he’s uncertain, he looks mad.

and

At the courthouse, as Tim had approached the bench to sign the judge’s papers, Dick had leaned over to Bruce and nodded toward Damian at the end of the row. The young boy had sat with his arms crossed, chin tilted up and his nose high in the air, the picture of disgusted arrogance.

“When he’s happy,” Dick had whispered, “he looks like that.”

Bruce was 87% sure this was true.

So, first, big fan of ludicrously precise percentages. Big fan. Especially for someone like Bruce, who probably does think at that level of precision, the nerd. 

Popping a fry in his mouth

Speaking of nerds, this was my first fic (not just Batfic or AO3 or even published fic, but first thing I’d ever finished ever ever ever), so I was still (and am, sometimes!) super-uncertain about my characterization. The amount of stress that went into mental debates over whether Bruce Wayne would eat fast food? Absurd.

(He does. Let the Angst Man have his pleasures.)

Damian always looked angry to some degree

My poor, emotionally constipated child. He comes by it genetically. (And also, anger feels safe and productive, and it’s easier to access than deeper emotions.)

Missing the first ten years… a seven-month-long disappearance…

I think I tried to research this, then got fed up with the inconsistence timelines, and went “Screw it.” Which is usually how that sort of thing goes.

Bruce wondered if Dick had given Damian a verbal primer the way he had Bruce.

Dick Grayson, Grump Whisperer…

The young boy had sat with his arms crossed, chin tilted up and his nose high in the air, the picture of disgusted arrogance.

HE IS SUCH A LIAR. MY PRECIOUS, BRATTY BOY IS SUUUUUCH A LIAR. He doesn’t know what to do with the emotions that he has or even what they’re all called, he’s emotionally constipated, and he’s so proud. But dang it, my boy has a heart. He has a heart, and he’s capable of empathy, and he KNEW Tim’s situation was unjust, and blast it all if he didn’t see it fixed!

“When he’s happy,” Dick had whispered, “he looks like that.”

Damian, YOU FOOL NO ONE.

I love closing the circle. If you see an ending that mirrors its opening, please know I am sighing happily. Also know that I was probably stuck on how to end the fic, panicked, and fell back on what I knew.

Thanks for the ask! I feel weird pontificating like this, but it was a ton of fun! (I think I covered everything, but if you have follow-ups outside of the ask, drop me a line. It’s frustrating to feel like a question you asked wasn’t fully answered.)

[chibinightowl]

A Man Walks Into a Saloon Pt 3

Part 1   Part 2

Early the next morning, Dick sits quietly by the smoldering coals of the campfire Jason had made the night before, watching as Jason kneels by the creek and washes up, bare as the day he was born. This chill in the air doesn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. Neither of them had planned to stay the night in the secluded little canyon, but one thing had led to another (and another, and another) and before they knew it, daylight had faded into night.

His stomach grumbles, but Dick pushes his hunger aside. There’s more important things to think about. Like what the hell is he going to tell Bruce? That he spent the last day or so thoroughly investigating Jason? Well, that isn’t really a lie. He had been thorough in his inspection of the Red Hood, mapping his body inch by inch in the late afternoon sun and later by the light of their fire.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Dick jerks his head up and stares at Jason as he sits gingerly on their shared blanket. He’d taken a turn as the bottom their last time making love and is still feeling the effects of it. The man cocks his head to the side and gazes inquisitively at him. His eyes are such a deep shade of blue.

“Just…trying to figure what to do next.”

Jason chuckles at that. “It should probably involve pants.” He reaches for his and shakes them out.

Okay, that’s definitely a necessity. Dick looks around for his and finds them on a bush a few feet away. He rolls over on the blanket and crawls towards them. Behind him, Jason groans.

Now it’s Dick’s turn to chuckle as he shakes his ass at him. “I don’t think you have time for round…umm…” He’s honestly forgotten how many times they lost themselves in each other last night.

“No, I don’t,” Jason replies. “Arty’s gonna kill me as it is.”

Dick grabs his pants and shakes them out too. He puts them on before turning to face the other man. He’s still naked on the blanket, watching him closely. There’s a pensive look on his face, like he’s locked in some internal debate of his own.

Jason bites his lip and hangs his head a moment before lifting it again. “Dick, I got somethin’ I need ta get off my chest.”

He sighs and kneels in front of him. “Jason, I know.”

The bandit is obviously startled. “Know what?”

“I know you and Artemis are the Red Hood Bandits.”

This time, Jason jerks back. “The fuck?”

Dick starts talking. “I’m not just a pretty face who dresses in women’s clothing. I’m also a sheriff’s deputy. It’s not widely known, but we use my position at the saloon to keep an eye people who are passing through.”

Jason stiffens as his eyes grow flinty. “Seems like you’re pretty thorough then. Ya get to know all your criminals this well?”

“No,” Dick replies honestly. “I know everyone jokes that I always fall for the wrong kind of person, but…” he trails off and swallows hard before continuing. “I’ve never fallen as hard or as fast as I have for you.”

“Dick,” Jason tries to say, but he raises a hand.

“Let me finish.” Dick takes a deep breath. “Whatever you and Artemis are after, fine. Keep looking, but when you do find it, what next? What will you do then?”

Jason still looks like a startled deer but he doesn’t bolt. “I dunno.” He shakes his head, black hair falling over his forehead. “I don’t exactly have a lot of prospects.”

“If you could be anything, what would it be?” The question slips out before Dick can stop it.

“Kinda an odd question for a sheriff’s deputy to be askin’ a bandit. Shouldn’t you be taken my measurements for a hangman’s noose?” Jason bites back defensively.

“I think I took your measurement quite well last night.” Dick winks at him and there’s that blush again. He’s going to miss it so much. “I’m not telling Bruce about you and Artemis beyond what I did yesterday. I told him my suspicions and that I was going to investigate further. As far as the law is concerned, the two of you are just passing through.”

Jason stares at him, flashes of different emotions flickering across his face as he takes in everything. “And you?” he finally asks.

Dick settles back on his bare heels, the position easy for him to maintain as long as he needs to. “I’m just a guy who’s fallen for another guy and is about to have his heart broken because he can’t stay.”

He can feel it starting already as Jason pulls away and puts on his pants, hiding the heavy muscle of his thighs. But he lets the man have his space, knowing he’s dealing with a revelation he didn’t quite expect.

Jason is fully dressed before he finally turns his attention back on Dick. “A shopkeeper,” is what he says.

Dick doesn’t understand right away but then he remembers his earlier question. “Yeah? You’d be good at it. I saw you bargaining with Mr. Pennyworth yesterday before we rode out. He appreciates a good haggler.”

“That’s what he said after,” Jason offers before he sighs heavily. “Dick, I…I wish I could stay here with you. I really do. But I promised Arty I’d help her and…”

Standing, Dick smoothly closes the distance between them. “I understand,” he says, cupping Jason’s cheek and drawing him in so that his lips barely brush Jason’s as he keeps speaking. “I respect that. Just…if you ever come back this way…”

“I’ll find ya.” Jason’s lips slam into his and it’s all Dick can do not to drown in the raw passion and fire that’s being unleashed on him. He’s left gasping when Jason finally lets go and steps back. “That’s for remembrance. Don’t forget me, Dickiebird.”

“Never.”

~*~*~*~*

It’s with a much heavier heart that Dick makes his way into the sheriff’s office a couple hours later. He’s dragging, both physically and mentally but more than anything, his heart hurts. What he’s thought were broken hearts before have nothing on this one. Dick slumps into the rickety chair without his usual bounce and flair and just waits. He can already feel Bruce’s eyes on him from where he’s dealing with a drunk who spent the night sleeping it off in jail. It’s too early for Tim to be around. Yesterday afternoon and night are going down as some of the best times of his life. Not just because of the sex, which admittedly was pretty damn good, but because of Jason himself. He knows he’s made the right decision in letting him and Artemis go, but convincing Bruce of the same is a whole other story.

Dick tears himself out of his thoughts when the sheriff leans against the front of the desk, arms crossed loosely over his chest and his badge of office pinned prominently on his vest. He stares up at him and braces himself for the disappointment to come. “I let him go,” Dick says quietly. Bruce shakes his head, his expected reaction clear as day. But his words surprise him. “I knew you would. When you find good in someone, it’s next to impossible for you to see otherwise.” “I know, but Jason’s different,” he returns quickly and launches into an abbreviated version of what they talked about. “Given time, and if they ever find whatever it is that was stolen from Artemis and her family, he wants to live a quiet and normal life. Hell, I even think he would like living here.” “But you won’t be here,” Bruce replies evenly. “You already have your tickets to Chicago. You leave in three days.” “I know,” Dick groans. “I know. I didn’t tell him. At all. But he won’t be through here again anytime soon so maybe...” Maybe he’ll return having fulfilled his dream of making it big in the theater and Jason will be here waiting, having completed his quest to help Artemis like a knight in a fairy tale. Bruce stands and draws him up into an awkward hug. His hugs are always awkward, it’s just the way he is but Dick latches on like he’s all that’s keeping him from being swept away. “You always fall so hard for people but I’ve never seen you like this before. Jason must be really special.” “He is,” Dick sniffles. “But he’s got his life and I’ve got mine. Who knows, maybe one day we’ll meet again.” “So they’ve left then?” “This morning, early. I watched them ride out.” He’d followed Jason back to his camp with Artemis and put up with her good-natured ribbing while he finished packing the rest of his gear. “I see,” Bruce replies in a noncommittal tone.  “Colorado Springs, right?” “Bruce,” Dick says warningly. “Just stop it. For once, let him, let them, go.” “Fine,” the sheriff huffs. Dick doesn’t have to see his face to know he’s put out by his request. “Let’s hope I don’t have to arrest him if he does come back this way.” Dick punches Bruce in the shoulder, hard, but he’s laughing as he draws away from him. Laughs because the only alternative is to cry. ~*~*~*~*

A few days later, Tim and Stephanie stand with Dick at the train station as they wait for the eastward bound steam engine to arrive. Bruce had made his goodbyes already, preferring to do them in private where the townsfolk wouldn’t see him tear up. An always stoic Mr. Pennyworth had pressed a bundle with some of his delicious home cooking on him as he passed by the general store on his way to the station. At least he won’t be hungry for a while. Dick wants to laugh at his two friends. They’re so hyper aware of each other but not doing a damn thing that it’s just ridiculous. Fine, if this is how they’re gonna be, then he’s got to take steps. He slings his arms over the shoulders of his two friends and holds them close. “Okay, you two. Listen here. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my most recent heartbreak is that you’ve got to enjoy what you’ve got while you have it. And you...” he shakes them both for emphasis. “Are both stupid crazy for each other. Steph, Tim will always step in horseshit when he talks to you. That’s just the way it is. Tim, Steph will always yell and threaten to shoot you when you screw up. Or throw whiskey in your face. My point is, just stop dancing around each other and start courting! When I come home, there better be a ring on that finger!” By the end of his impassioned little speech, Tim is the color of Dick’s red bandana, the one he’s been sporting since Jason left. Steph is almost the same shade but she shoves him hard instead as she worms her way out from under his arm. “Dick!” she screeches. “You jackass! Mind your own business.” “But this is the last time I can get in your business!” Tim tugs at his arm and Dick lets go, allowing the young man to have his freedom. “Dick, really now. Let us figure it out on our own. I’m not completely incompetent here and,” he pauses and casts a shy glance at Stephanie, “I have faith we’ll figure it out.” “Exactly,” Steph chimes in and smacks Dick on his head, dislodging his hat. “Now butt out.” “You like my butt.” Dick spins around, even if the effect is lost without his skirt. That’s carefully packed away in his trunk. “I’ll miss your butt,” she replies with a hint of real sorrow. “Your butt made me money.” “Perhaps you can get Timmy here to shake his for you.” “Hey!” the schoolmaster protests even as his love interest eyes him speculatively. “I already have two jobs, I don’t need a third.” The sound of a train whistle interrupts a reply. Dick leans out over the edge of the platform and spots his train in the distance. Time to cue the butterflies. He rarely gets nervous but here and now, he does. “Oh, boy,” he mutters. His friends start chattering at him. “Now remember what the big city is like. All crowded and full of pickpockets. Be careful with your things and don’t keep your money in an obvious spot.” Steph starts adjusting his jacket and the bandanna tied around his neck, fidgeting nervously. Tim isn’t any better as he holds his hat in his hands and rubs the rim nervously, spinning it through his long fingers. “You’ve got your boarding house information, right? And the contact at the theater? What about...” Dick raises his hands and gently dislodges Steph. She’s twisted the knot at his throat so tight he can barely breath. “Tim, I’ve got all that right here.” He pats his jacket, feeling the papers on the inside pocket. “Steph, I’ve lived in cities before. I’m not that green.” “I know, I’m just worried.” She wraps her arms around him in a hug so tight he loses the breath he just got back. “You be careful, Dick Grayson. You better make it big or else.” Dick wisely doesn’t ask or else what? Steph lets go and Tim steps up. His hug is no less strong. “Just be happy,” he says in a low tone, his voice choked up with emotion. “And make it all the way.” “I refuse to do anything less,” Dick replies, blinking away tears of his own. Tim is practically his brother and he loves Steph almost like his own sister. “I better be getting that wedding invitation soon.” Tim chuckles weakly at that. They both know it’ll be a long time before Dick comes home, long after any wedding occurs. The train pulls up, steam and smoke and all that glossy black of the engine. A few more quick hugs while a couple of people disembark but in a blink of an eye, his trunk is onboard and Dick is handing over his ticket as he climbs aboard his passenger car. The seat is uncomfortable but no one is next to him so he’ll be able to sprawl soon enough. He pushes the glass window down and leans out, waving with all his might as the train starts pulling away from the small station. Tim and Steph run to the end of the platform, returning the gesture with broad waves of their own. All too soon, they grow smaller and smaller as the train chugs along the rails, taking Dick further away from the second most important home in his life. He settles back in the bench seat and thinks about the last few days. Jason’s face comes to mind instantly and he does his best to brush it aside. What they had was good. Perhaps the best of anything Dick’s ever had. But it was doomed from the start and they both knew it. No point in wishing for one day or someday. If their paths ever cross again, and they’re both unattached, then Dick will gladly see what happens next. But until that day arrives, he’s got a life to live and a dream to pursue. With those thoughts in mind, Dick settles in, pulls his hat down over his eyes, and falls into a light doze, already dreaming of that future.

*****

AN:

So that’s a wrap! I could be persuaded to write a little epilogue that takes place, say 10 years later, where certain people meet again, but then again, this is a Western. And I swear, most of those always seem to have a bittersweet ending...