#And so Damian got the star figure of his collection | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherrrydragon · 6 months ago

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➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER NINE: WARMTH

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SUMMARY ↳ Gotham's getting colder. You think your life is getting warmer. Nightwing grins, flipping his escrima sticks with practiced ease. "Couldn't miss out on Gotham's winter wonderland, could I? Plus, I wanted to visit my favorite bug.” “Spiders aren’t bugs, they’re arachnids.” “That’s literally the same thing.” “It’s literally not.” pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: none, i think wc: 3.4k

Snow comes early in Gotham, so by December it’s mostly snowing everyday. It feels like you’re in New York again, when the Christmas lights start appearing on trees and snowmen litter the parks. Gotham, true to its nature, stays colorless for the most part. However, Gotham Square provides quite the merry site. Your suit reflects the bright lights as you swing by.

Despite the holiday cheer, you can't let your guard down. Gotham's criminals have a knack for exploiting the city's festivities, and tonight is no exception. You notice a group of people gathered around a shop window, watching a live performance of animatronic figures reenacting a Christmas story. You land silently on a nearby rooftop, scanning the crowd below.

Karen’s voice crackles to life. "[Name], there's been a report of suspicious activity near the old ice rink. It seems someone is trying to steal the charitable donations collected for the orphanage."

"Got it," you reply, already changing direction. You launch yourself into the night, the cold wind biting through your suit. The streets blur beneath you as you make your way to the ice rink, the glow of Gotham Square fading behind you.

When you arrive, you find a group of thugs attempting to break into the donation booth. They are armed and clearly not expecting any resistance on a night like this. You drop down silently behind them.

"Planning to ruin Christmas for the kids, are we?" you hum, voice distorted and menacing. The thugs spin around, startled, but it's already too late for them.

You make quick work of the first few, your training and instincts taking over. A punch here, a kick there, and they are down before they know what hit them. One of the thugs tries to flee, but a well-aimed web takes him down, his body hitting the wall with a thud.

As you tie up the last of the unconscious criminals, you hear the distant chime of church bells, signaling the hour. You look up, seeing the first flakes of snow beginning to fall from the sky. You feel a sense of childlike wonder as the tiny white stars fall from the sky. You secure the donation booth, ensuring that the funds will be safe for the children who need them.

friendly behind you

“Aw, you beat me to it.”

Nightwing leans casually against the wall, escrima sticks in hand. You give Nightwing a nod, acknowledging his familiar presence. "Just cleaning up Gotham's holiday mess," you reply. "Didn't expect you to be in town."

Nightwing grins, flipping his escrima sticks with practiced ease. "Couldn't miss out on Gotham's winter wonderland, could I? Plus, I wanted to visit my favorite bug.”

“Spiders aren’t bugs, they’re arachnids.”

“That’s literally the same thing.”

“It’s literally not.”

Whenever Nightwing is in town (which seems to be more than usual) he takes it upon himself to accompany you whenever he can find you. You mostly just let him do his own thing. "Semantics aside, looks like you've got everything under control here," Nightwing remarks, glancing around at the subdued criminals. “So… how have you been?”

You’re about to swing away, but his question confuses you. “What?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Well, how are you doing? Is work good? Or do you go to school?”

He watches as the eyes of your suit deadpan at him. “...Yeah? Life’s good, I guess?” you reply, appalled.

“That’s good.” he beams. Then he inspects your suit like it’s personally offended him. “Are you sure that thing can keep you warm?”

“Are you sure that thing can keep you warm?” you sass, gesturing to his skin tight uniform. “There’s literally a built-in heater, I’m fine.”

He nods, looking to the side. It’s silent for a while, leaving you with your thoughts. Is he seriously trying to… parent you? You’re used to Steve or even Bucky mother henning you, not Dick Grayson. Don’t get it wrong, you like and respect the hell out of him. But he literally has no business trying to coddle you into his arms. It just makes no sense to you

“Well… it’s been fun,” you cough, turning around and webbing a building. “Bye,” and then your off. Nightwing sighs as his eyes follow you. As you disappear into the Gotham skyline, he looks down, twirling his escrima sticks absentmindedly.

“I see B’s adoption tendencies are hereditary,” chuckles Oracle in his ear.

“Shut up,” he hisses.

“Maybe I should just get him a dog or something,” bemoaned Jon, laid dramatically across your couch.

“Pretty sure someone will do that already,” comes your reply.

Jon likes hanging around in your apartment. You wonder if his parents are curious as to where he is all the time. He’s even started leaving some of his sweaters around (that you definitely don’t steal, no way). He groaned dramatically, rolling over to look at you upside down. "You're supposed to be supportive," he mumbled, voice muffled by the cushions.

Jon has decided he needs your council in getting Damian a Christmas present. “Well, you shouldn’t get him anything to do with, like, chores or work.” You walk over and sit on his stomach. He can take it, he’s a big boy. He curls an arm under his head and rests on it. “That’s gift-giving number one.”

“What can I give him that he couldn’t just buy anyway?” he huffs.

“Something personal,” you hum, brushing his curls out of his face. “Something custom, even. He likes art. Make him something yourself.”

Jon perks up a bit at your suggestion, contemplating the idea. "Like what? I'm not exactly an artist."

"You don't have to be a Picasso," you reassure him with a grin. "Just something that shows you put thought into it. Maybe a sketch, or even a painting if you’re feeling bold. It's the personal touch that matters."

He considers it, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Yeah, I could do that. Maybe a memory or something, like the time he tried to cook and set the kitchen on fire."

You choke out a laugh. “What? You never told me about that!”

Jon blushes slightly, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, well, it was… an interesting evening. Alfred wasn't too pleased."

"I can only imagine," you chuckle, picturing Damian attempting to cook. "That could definitely make something.”

“I’ll think on it,” decides Jon, sitting up and tugging you so you sit on his lap. After the whole Ivy situation, he was really awkward around you for a while. He kept stuttering over his words and wouldn’t look you in the eye. Eventually he got comfortable again, really comfortable. You can barely be around him without him having a hand on you or an arm around you. “What will you get him?”

"Something that doesn't involve kitchen disasters," you reply with a playful grin, settling comfortably on his lap. Jon rolls his eyes good-naturedly, his arm finding its familiar place around your shoulders.

"You're no fun," he teases, squeezing you gently. "But seriously, what are you planning to get him?"

You lean back against him, considering the question. "I haven’t really thought about it. To be honest, I didn’t even think he would expect one from me.”

Jon hums thoughtfully, running his fingers across your shoulder absentmindedly. "Why wouldn’t he expect one from you? You’re his friend.”

You guess he’s right. You and Damian talk, go out of each others way to spend time with one another (even if Damian would rather choke than admit it). It’s hard figuring out where you fit in this world.

"Yeah, we're friends," you murmur, more to yourself than to Jon. "But sometimes I wonder if I really belong here, you know?" You didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Jon's fingers pause in their absent-minded tracing along your shoulder. He shifts slightly, turning to look at you with a gentle expression. "Of course you belong here, [Your Name]. You’re kind and funny and brave. You don’t have to be anything but yourself.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to leap out of your chest and hug his. “I’m sure you’re just feeling homesick,” he reassures. Oh, he has no idea.

“I know Gotham is a tough place but… I’m here for you, and Damian’s here for you,” he pauses, “...if you want… I can take you up the Queens…?” Surely he doesn’t mean flying you there? It takes a couple of hours to get to Queens from here, but he can take you there in an instant. However, that also means revealing to you his secret. Christ, it’s like he’s not even trying to hide it.

Regardless, it wouldn’t be your Queens. Actually, seeing it might do more harm than good. “No, it’s okay. Thanks, though.”

He looks at you with the most earnest puppy eyes you’ve seen. It tugs at your heartstrings, his concern and offer of support clear in his gaze.

"Thanks, Jon," you manage, your voice soft with gratitude and a touch of wistfulness. "I appreciate it."

He nods, sensing your reluctance to delve deeper into the topic. Jon's hand finds yours, squeezing it gently in a gesture of solidarity. "Anytime, [Your Name]. You know that."

Jon's earnestness and the warmth of his hand in yours fill you with a mix of comfort and a slight pang of guilt. You appreciate his concern and the genuine offer of support, yet part of you hesitates to fully accept it.

“I’ll figure it out,” you declare, referring to Damian’s gift. “And it’ll definitely outshine yours,” you tease.

Jon grins, and squeezes you close, making you squawk in offense. He blows raspberries in your neck, the feeling of it making you curl in on yourself, but regardless, makes you happy.

“Give me some tunes, Karen.”

Music starts playing from the speakers of your laptop, courtesy of Karen. You hum and rock as you turn a screw. The particle accelerator is looking good and proper now. It’s begun to take shape, winding around the space the more you build it. Sipping your death brew, you make sure the screw is tight before throwing the wrench somewhere.

“Explain to me one more time?” comes Victoria’s voice from your phone. You can see from the facetime that she’s in her pajamas, ready to go to bed.

“It’s a new element. It’s gonna power all my future creations,” you say. “Basically, this bad boy,” you pat the accelerator, “is going to synthesize it by accelerating charged particles to high speeds so that they collide with each other. The atoms will fuse, making the new element.”

“How… did you even come up with this?”

“I didn’t,” you sniff. “My dad’s dad did. He just gave me the blueprints.”

“And what will you name it?”

“Well… my dad planned to name it badassium. So that’s what it’ll be called,” you declare, grabbing your phone.

She raises a brow at the name but has no further comment. “Why don’t you… patent this or something?”

“The idea is to stay discreet, my dear.” You take a seat and kick up your legs. “Besides, I’d have a hard time choosing whether to patent it as [Name] Stark or Spinnerette.”

She snorts. "Right," she says, stifling a yawn. "Just don't blow yourself up, okay?"

"I'll do my best," you reply with a grin. "Sleep tight, Tori. I'll keep you updated."

"Goodnight," she responds, her voice already trailing off. You end the call and set your phone down, turning your attention back to the particle accelerator.

You stretch, feeling the strain of hours spent hunched over. Just as you're about to call it a night, Karen's voice breaks the silence. "Incoming message from ‘please get this boy some brown contacts’."

You wipe your hands on a rag and pick up your phone, opening the message. It's a selfie of Jon and Damian, both smiling (well, Jon is smiling, Damian looks mildly amused). You respond with a simple selfie you took earlier. He hearts the message.

As night falls, you suit up once again, ready for another patrol. The streets are quieter tonight, the snowfall muffling the usual sounds of the city. You swing through the air, feeling a sense of peace and purpose. As you land silently on a nearby rooftop, you hear a faint noise. Your senses sharpen, and you move cautiously towards the sound.

You find a small group of children, huddled together, trying to build a snowman. Their laughter is infectious, and for a moment, you just watch, a smile tugging at your lips.

One of the kids looks up and spots you. "Look! It's Spinnerette!" The others follow his gaze, their faces lighting up with excitement. You drop down to join them, your landing soft and graceful.

"Hi there," you greet them, your voice friendly and warm. "Need any help with that snowman?"

dark and brooding watching

The kids nod eagerly, and you spend the next few minutes helping them build their snowman. When it's done, they cheer, admiring their handiwork. "Thank you, Spinner!" one of the kids says, his eyes shining with gratitude.

"Anytime," you reply, feeling a warmth in your heart. "Now, you little rascals should go home. It’s dark out.”

They whine but listen, scurrying off into the nearby apartments. You watch as they make it inside, they’re parents (who were keeping a vigilant eye) wave to you as they close the door.

You turn to look over your shoulder slightly. “You gonna come out or are you gonna stand there all day brooding?”

“You’re good with children,” comes a low gruff. The man, the myth, the legend himself; Batman steps out of the shadows, approaching you.

“They’re not very complicated creatures,” is your dry response.

Batman steps closer, his presence imposing but familiar. "No, but they require patience and understanding," he replies, his voice softer than usual.

You shrug, "Guess I've had some practice."

He studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable behind the cowl. "You've adapted well to Gotham," he finally says. "It's not an easy place to thrive."

"Guess I had to," you reply, matching his tone. "This city needs all the help it can get."

Batman nods, his eyes briefly scanning the surroundings before returning to you. "I saw Nightwing earlier. He mentioned you had things under control at the ice rink."

"Yeah, just some losers trying to ruin Christmas," you say, dismissively. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

He hums, saying nothing more. "You… handled it well," Batman acknowledges. Woah, this is a moment in history, take a picture.

You nod, having nothing better to say. Internally, you’re giddy at the praise. The two of you stand in silence, looking at the city as the cold air rushes by.

After a beat, Batman shifts slightly, as if considering his next words carefully. "I've been monitoring your progress," he starts, his voice low but not unkind. "You've shown potential. But Gotham tests everyone, even those with the best intentions."

You look at him, catching his gaze behind the cowl. There’s a weight to his words, a reminder of the city's relentless nature. "I know," you reply simply, understanding the implicit warning. Gotham doesn’t forgive mistakes easily, and the path you’ve chosen is littered with challenges.

Batman nods once, his approval implicit yet unstated. "Keep your focus. And remember, sometimes the greatest strength is knowing when to ask for help." His tone is almost paternal, a rare glimpse of advice from a man who often operates in silence and shadows.

You can’t help but snort. “Gee, Bats. If you wanted my secret identity all you had to do was ask.”

“Are you saying you’d tell if you asked?”

“I’m saying… we can be grateful for one another.”

Batman regards you silently for a moment, his expression unreadable as always. Then, with a slight nod, he turns to leave, disappearing into the shadows as effortlessly as he emerged. The night wears on, and you continue your patrol through Gotham's wintry streets. The city seems to hold its breath under the blanket of snow, a rare moment of calm amidst its usual chaos.

“It’s no wonder cats were worshiped in ancient times,” Damian muses, watching Nari stretch lazily on the windowsill. He’s decided to grace you with his presence this fine afternoon, claiming he had nothing better to do. He’s a welcome addition to your apartment.

Damian, reclining on your couch with an air of regal indifference, watches Nari the cat with a mixture of curiosity and mild wonder. His expression softens as Nari pads over to him, sniffing his outstretched hand cautiously before allowing him to scratch behind her ears.

You lean against the kitchen counter, watching the scene with a small smile. "He seems to like you," you comment casually, taking a sip of your drink.

"Hmph," Damian grunts noncommittally, but his hand continues to stroke Nari's fur with a practiced touch. "Animals are simple creatures. They respond to consistency."

You raise an eyebrow, amused by his attempt at nonchalance. "So, are you here just to critique my cat's taste in company, or is there something else on your mind?"

Damian pauses, his gaze flicking briefly towards you before returning to Nari. "Tt. Jon was bothering me about the insipid holiday tradition that is Christmas."

You chuckle softly, knowingly. "Ah, Jon and his enthusiasm for festive cheer. What did he want?"

"He insisted on exchanging gifts," Damian mutters, as if the concept itself is offensive. "As if material possessions hold any significance."

"Well, it's the thought that counts, right?" you offer, setting down your mug and joining Damian on the couch. Nari purrs contentedly as you scratch under her chin. “You’re telling me your family doesn’t do Christmas?”

“Of course we do,” he scoffs. “But I do not care much for it. But Jon seems to think it matters.”

"Well, he's not entirely wrong," you say, keeping your tone light. "Gift-giving can be meaningful if it's done thoughtfully. It's a chance to show someone you care about them, to give them something they might appreciate."

Damian regards you thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. "And what would you consider a thoughtful gift, then?"

You smile. "It depends on the person," you begin, tapping your chin in mock contemplation. "For someone like Jon, maybe something that reflects his interests—maybe a new comic he hasn't read yet, or something related to his hobbies. Or, you could make something yourself. That usually adds a personal touch." It’s similar to the advice you gave Jon.

He considers your words, nodding slowly. "I see," he murmurs, as if filing away your suggestions for future reference. “What would someone like you like?” he asks casually.

You think. What would you like? Any material stuff you’d want has no use to you now, and you can’t exactly ask him for stuff pertaining to your little project. Actually… it’s been a while since you’ve wished for something material. Tony catered to your every whim and desire, you never wanted for long.

“A memory,” you decide, nodding. “Something I can experience and remember fondly.”

Damian listens attentively, his expression thoughtful. He seems to mull over your words, considering how to fulfill your request for a memorable gift. After a moment of silence, he nods decisively.

Nari, sensing the relaxed atmosphere, curls up contentedly in Damian's lap, earning a surprised glance from him before he tentatively strokes her fur again.

“Perhaps it is a good time to mention that my father insists I invite you to Christmas this year.”

"Your father?" You blink in surprise at Damian's unexpected news. Bruce Wayne, inviting you to his family's Christmas celebration? It's a surreal thought (and probably not good news). "I... didn't expect that."

Damian shrugs nonchalantly, though there's a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "He's made it clear that you're... welcome."

"Are you... comfortable with that?" you ask cautiously, glancing at Damian for any sign of discomfort.

"I've grown accustomed to your presence," Damian replies evenly, his gaze steady. "Besides, Father insists."

The tension in your shoulders eases slightly at his reassurance. Bruce Wayne inviting you to join his family's celebration—it's a gesture that speaks volumes, even if Damian's demeanor remains somewhat guarded. You're not entirely sure what to make of it, but the prospect of spending Christmas with the Wayne's is undeniably intriguing.

"Alright," you finally say, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Tell your father... I appreciate the invitation."

Damian nods once, his expression giving away nothing more than a hint of curiosity. "Very well."

You lean back against the couch, content to let the conversation drift into a comfortable silence. Damian continues to pet Nari absentmindedly, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere. As the afternoon light fades into dusk, you let the pressure of your situation dwindle away, content to live in the moment.

notes:

reader when dick shows affection: this is vile what is this

dick: :C

jon ready to risk it all for reader: hey so im superboy but nevermind that let me die for you pls

#damian wayne x reader #jon kent x reader #robin x reader #dc x reader #superboy x reader

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teaheecoco · 6 months ago

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Afk Wilder Hcs Pt.2

(Some of these replace my old headcanons)

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

◇ Florabelle is immune to poisonous flowers and collects them. She has many pretty deadly flowers hidden somewhere safe

◇ Bryon is a hybrid. He's half caracal and half hawk. Hybrids are unusual, so he was often rejected by other kids during his childhood

◇ Lorsan has a sweet tooth and has a severe case of hyperactivity if he consumes a lot of sugar

◇ Lyca makes strawberry crepes that consist of strawberries(obviously) and yogurt because it isn't too sweet, and it's Lorsan's favorite

◇ Eironn has a high pain tolerance and would fail to notice his wounds until someone points it out

◇ Parisa had a secret childhood friend who was so shy that nobody except Granny Dahnie and Master Arden knew she existed. That childhood friend happens to be Solise

◇ Bryon has 2 forms: his normal form and bird form. His bird form has more features of a hawk- giving him bird claws and the ability to fly. The only condition holding him back from using his second form is that he tends to get violent and predatory

◇ Lorsan and Lyca were really small as babies. So small that they both fit in Granny Dahnie's hands

◇ Lorsan doesn't know this, but some kids would try to pick on him, but Bryon would take care of them directly and even indirectly by launching an Elona attack

◇ Damian once got swooped while flying a kite. He fell on Eomir (lol)

◇ Eironn would accidentally hit his head when entering doors that he's taller than. His height is his biggest weakness, and he would lose at hide n seek a few times due to this

◇ Lyca used to stay up at night reading the stars or just stargazing. Due to that, she had a messed up sleep schedule and depended on anything that kept her awake through the day during her school days

◇ Hewynn has a hornleaf bear plush made by Granny Dahnie

◇ Parisa is a tea connoisseur and owns a lot of tea sets at her place. She hosts her tea party in her garden

◇ Lyca, being the older sister to Lorsan, wanted someone to look up to and saw Florabelle as an older sister figure. She would try to be like Florabelle, thinking she would be a better role model for Lorsan. Turns out that letting Lorsan neglect his assignments was a terrible mistake

◇ Damian has an older sister, and it's Nemora. They rarely see each other but they're on good terms

◇ Eironn is in touch with his elf culture and would pull some out of place moves on Lyca. Parisa revealed that most of it is an Elven's way of expressing certain feelings to someone

◇ Florabelle is favored by the fairy of dreams, Tasi. These two would meet up in the dream realm when Florabelle goes to sleep

◇ Parisa is not much of a gossip girl around people, but she loves spilling the tea with her plants

◇ Lorsan has a crime list in the lightbearer territory, but none of it has been recorded since he only gets himself involved with bad guys unintentionally. He has been locked up before and learned how to lock pick

◇ Florabelle dubbed Lyca and Eironn as star-crossed lovers when telling a story to her students

◇ Eironn curses in elven language

◇ Lyca does her deer's makeup

◇ Lorsan sleeps in a hammock

◇ Bryon lives in a treehouse

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Hope you enjoyed 👍

#afk journey #afk arena #afk eironn #afk bryon #afk lyca #afk lorsan #afk florabelle #afk parisa #afk solise #afk tasi #afk granny dahnie #afk hewynn #afk damian #headcanons

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glitter-stained · 2 months ago

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I wanna see fics that are just the Waynes posting on bat!Tumblr and dissing eachother in the process

stuff like Damian drawing fanarts of the bats as humanized animals but the more pissed he's at someone the more it looks like creepy uncanny valley animal filters

Steph finding Tim's old ao3 account and not being able to expose him even though she knows it's him so she settles to posting stick figure fanart with the most cliche quotes from his earliest fanfics

Duke just posting AU idea after AU idea but it's extremely out-of left field convulted stuff, like "AU where they're all pokemons but it's in Star Trek and the Rogues are Pokemon hunters", "AU where the bats work in a coffee shop to launder money and the League is the IRS trying to catch them for tax evasion", "horror cave diving AU" (this one got more tentacle porn that he ever hoped to see). Because of his powers, Duke can sometimes see all the different timelines, and so sometimes he will pepper in things that have been retconned, like a private joke: "AU where Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's adopted son, adopts a red-haired acrobat kid after his parents were killed by Killer Crock and then he becomes the Red Hood." He just drops the AU ideas, leaves and lets the fanfic writers work their magic.

Tim posting "what I think the bats would be like as dnd characters" and roasting/glazing his siblings

Jason's ao3 account with fic names, resume, collections, fandoms like "Wonderwoman RPF" etc. Bonus points if you can guess from synopsis+ fic names and abandoned/orphaned/on permanent hiatus status what was written before and after his death

Damian having an mlp sona

Cass ranking the bats as first to last eliminated in Survivor (no surprise who is first, but the rest of the ranking changes every week)

Steph reposting the most outlandish bat theories and headcanons everytime she sees them and feeding fuel to the fire

Dick logging in to Tumblr (his only social media aside from like, group chats) for the first time after months, dropping a list of gotham vigilants and bats cast as chess pieces without elaborating on anything, logging off the app and then forgetting he even has tumblr for about three-five months

I need to see outsider POV and media, but I also need to see the bats playing with that outsider perception and just having fun and being silly messing with Gotham as Gotham tries to tie the dots together with a increasingly big ball of red yarn and despair

Social media + outsider POV are literally the best fic ever

I wanna know all about what random strangers speculate about Batman. What would the Red Hood's in-universe wikipedia page look like? What's the discourse abt the unknown and nebulous family relations between the bats in regards to shipping? Common fic tropes, fandom slang, common theories and AUs and civilian names, etc etc, it's all so good

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

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@damianwayneweek Day 3 (6-15): “That wasn’t supposed to happen” | Reconciling with Tim | Autistic!Damian

Note: at this point, this is just "Damian cries and Dick hugs him" week. Someone send help. I love these two so much.

Warnings: angst and tears and Damian being a ball of separation anxiety.

---

The smell of sea salt mixed with the pollution of Gotham's coast is almost close to nauseating. If Damian hadn't already been feeling anxious and sick to his stomach, he would definitely be now.

And the thing is, he doesn't even know why.

It's been this way all night. It started before tonight, even. He's convinced himself it's probably something he had for lunch, but even a child would know that's a weak grasping of straws. No one ever gets sick from the food made in the Wayne Manor, not when Alfred is there to cook it.

But he tells himself it's because of that anyways. He feels sick to his stomach because the lettuce in his sandwich must have been old. Not for any other reason. And certainly not because his father has been off-world for the past month and Richard is once again holding the mantle of Batman while he's away.

"What do you say about heading home early?" Richard asks from where he stands besides Damian. The word home grates on Damians nerves for reasons that he... cannot bring himself to comprehend.

Damian nods his head, not saying anything. It's been a quiet night in Gotham anyways. His nerves feel fried from the constant anxiety pressing in his chest and he's sure the moment he gets to his bed he'll pass out.

Or at least stare blankly at the ceiling until he does.

The ride back to the manor is silent between Damian and Richard. Almost a month ago, it used to be loud with banter whenever he and Richard had a minute to themselves. They'd get back at the manor and Alfred would be there to pester them into taking care of themselves. Cassandra and Duke would enter and leave as they wished with the occasional appearances of Timothy and Jason. The only time they had to themselves was inside the batmobile, as there's not much private banter you can have while defending the streets either.

But it's silent now. Damian's chest and stomach hurts and no words seem to want to come to his throat, but he's not usually the one to start the conversations anyways. Something is keeping Richard silent as well. The thought that, for whatever reason, Richard doesn't want to talk to him makes his anxiety spike just the same as the thought of conversation.

It feels like the second they pull into the cave Damian's jumping out of the car and stalking towards the changing rooms. Alfred let's him stride past, lifting an eyebrow as he does, but he doesn't stop him. Alfred simply walks over towards Richard and offers him a cup of tea from the metal tray he's been holding.

Damian can hear the low rumble of words beginning to be exchanged between the two, but he's already too far away to make sense of them. He doesn't care to listen anyways. He just wants to get dressed and go to bed without anyone talking to him.

Without anyone asking him what's wrong. They must notice something is wrong, right? What would he say if they do ask? No. No one knows anything is wrong. Because nothing is wrong. Everything is okay.

He dresses into a clean pair of pajamas that feel fresh from the dryer and heads straight towards the exit of the batcave, not sparing Richard or Alfred a glance as he does so.

Everything is okay. He ate something bad for lunch.

That's all.

He manages to get all the way to his bedroom without running into anyone. Cassandra and Duke must be busy tonight, and he can't think of any reason why Timothy and Jason would be here at this hour of night. It's not surprising he didn't run into anyone. Why does he almost wish he had?

He shakes his head and closes the door behind him. Whatever is making him feel this way, it will go away if he rests. He's sure of it.

Wordlessly and single-mindedly, he removes the decorative pillows from his bed and pulls down the sheets. In a few practiced and fluid movements, he's under the covers and glaring at the ceiling, his stomach clenching.

There's glow in the dark stars above him, made of plastic and held to the ceiling with fun-tak. His eyes drift to a bigger glowing figure, it's circular and there's swirling patterns that mimic the global storm of Jupiter's surface. Another has two rings, like the planet in Treasure Planet.

Richard put them up the second month after Damian first came here. Damian had expressed... desires... to study and learn how kids who weren't raised in the League of Assassins lived. Glow in the dark stars was something Richard very much enjoyed getting off of Amazon that night, saying they were all the craze when he was younger. Every friend he visited had them in their bedrooms. His own childhood bedroom still has some old and dim ones hanging on the ceiling from when he convinced his father to get him some.

He didn't understand the appeal of them then. Nor does he now. Perhaps it's something to do with children in Gotham never seeing the actual stars because of the light pollution. All he knows is that in the desert he grew up in... these fake green plastic decorations do not compare to the galaxy he used to see as if the only thing separating him from the universe was a single pane of glass.

He turns away from the fake stars, closing his eyes, before they open again to glare now at his bookshelf, filled to the brim with books of all kinds and Cheese Viking figurines. There's a collectable coin there too, one Richard accidentally won way back when he decided to buy a mystery box from some website. It turned out to be pretty rare. He gave it to Damian and Damian got curious enough to look up the game.

It's his favorite game now. Because Richard found him a random gold coin.

Richard. His stomach clenches. Why won't it stop hurting? He has no reason to be this anxious.

No reason at all.

There's a soft knock on his door. Damian shifts so he's holding himself up on his elbows, watching as the door opens to reveal none other than Richard. His hair looks damp from a shower, which makes Damian wonder how long he's been glaring at random things in his room. He's dressed in an old Gotham Knight's tee-shirt with mustard stains around the right breast. Damian went to a game with him when he was wearing that shirt. He accidentally got shoved into Richard in the crowd, looking for their seats, when Richard was holding a hotdog. It got all over him, but the mustard is the only thing that persisted multiple rounds in the washer.

"Dami? You up?" Richard asks. Damian reaches over and turns on the dim lamp by his bedside.

Richard's eyes settle on him, and he smiles. It looks strained though.

That festering, lingering anxiety spikes.

"What is it?" He asks.

Richard walks into the room, then sits down on the side of Damian's bed. Damian bends his knees to allow room for him. He brings his pillow in front of his body and hugs it.

"Did I do something wrong?"

The question shocks Damian, as he didn't mean to ask it. It seems to startle Richard as well, because he goes stock still and looks at Damian with wide eyes.

It shocks them both, but it must be the reason if a bad lunch isn't.

Then, Richard breaks into soft laughter, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was about to ask the same thing, actually," he says, once the laughter dies down.

Damian frowns. Has Richard done anything wrong?

No. The answer is immediate. Richard hasn't done a single thing wrong. He's been nothing but his usual annoying and loud and pushy and kind and loving self since his father left and he came to keep the suit warm.

It almost feels like the beginning all over again. Waking up in the morning and smelling sweetened mocha instead of straight black coffee. Sketching in the afternoons by the fireplace in the family room and being interrupted by Richard barging in with a portable speaker, blasting the newest trending pop song. Going to bed with a goodnight hug. Bandaids snuck into Alfred's first aid supply that have cartoon and Disney characters designs. He's wearing a Frozen 2 bandaid now, on his knee.

If his father hadn't left with the rest of the Justice League, the band-aid would be a normal tan color and the day would be close to silent and alone.

It's feeling normal again, he realizes with horror. Because whatever mood Richard brings into the manor isn't normal. Normal is Bruce Wayne silently checking up on him throughout the day and calmly helping him with homework and giving tips on sketching techniques. Normal is leaning against the strong shoulder of his father as he tests those tips while his father reads a book, the only sounds to interrupt them being the ticking clock on the wall and the crackling of the fire.

Normal is... Normal isn't...

It's not this. He likes the time he spends with his father. He enjoys the wordless love and reassuring squeezes to his shoulder.

Normal isn't the loudness and silliness of Richard's affection.

And just like that, he finally knows what's wrong.

It feels the same as it used to be. Back when they thought his father was dead. Back when Richard seemed to be the only trusted adult in his life, and the daily interactions he had with him almost promised to be infinite.

And then they found out his father was still alive, just stuck in time. With the help of Timothy and others... They managed to bring him back.

And.

And Richard left.

And Damian was left.

And.

And that wasn't supposed to happen. Was it?

He hasn't allowed himself to think about much. It was something neither of them had acknowledged or mentioned. Richard once said he considered adopting Damian if his father was dead. Damian didn't stop himself from taking comfort in that.

And it feels like history is repeating itself. His father is away. Richard is Batman.

However, now Damian knows that the second his father returns, Richard will be packing his bags and leaving. This isn't normal. He can't get used to this again. He loves his father. But Richard...

It hurt enough the first time, watching him go.

And it will happen all over again. He'll get comfortable with Richard and his daily hugs and laughter, and then he'll be gone.

Separation anxiety. He has separation anxiety.

"Oh buddy," Richard coos, wrapping his arms around Damian and bringing him to his lap to hold him better.

He's crying. Tears are running down his face and it's stupid, because he knows that when Richard leaves again, it won't be like he'll never see him again.

But he's crying, and it hurts. Hurts more than if he had eaten something bad. He clutches to the pillow between them and let's the tears fall.

"Tell me what's wrong," Richard soothes, probably the only person in the entire universe to not freak out when he cries. Probably the only person in the entire universe Damian would allow himself to cry like this to. "What can I do to help?"

"It's stupid," Damian says, through it's through a hiccupping sob, which makes it sound very not stupid to someone like Richard. He sniffs and rubs his eyes on the pillow, forcing his breathing to go normal and to stop crying. "It's nothing. Father will come back, and- and you'll go back to Blüdhaven, and everything will be normal again."

Richard stills, then sighs. "So it's about that," he says softly. Of course he immediately knows what Damian means. He tightens his hold on Damian. "You know when your dad comes back, nothing will change between us, right? Even if we're on the opposite side of the world."

"I don't want to be on the opposite side of the world," Damian snaps, shoving himself away from Richard and glaring. "I want- I don't-" he presses his face into his pillow and groans.

Dick is silent, then he shifts closer and wraps his arm around Damian's shoulder gently. "I know. I don't either. But... it's just the way things have to be. You know this. Just like you know that... that if you ever really want to, I can clean out my guest room."

Damian shakes his head, his feelings feeling so all over the place and raw. "I just- when father came back, I didn't expect you to just leave. I don't want to choose. I-"

"I know," Richard whispers. "I know. I love Bruce. He's my dad too. But, you know us. If I move back in, we'll be at each other's throats. I'm a grown man now, Dami. I have to be on my own. He's... Protective. He still sees me as seventeen years old. And he's your father. You should be with him."

Damian sniffs. He doesn't nod. He doesn't shake his head. Agree nor disagree.

Simply understands.

It's just the way things are.

He stays silent as Richard continues. "And you know that I'll always be there for you, if you need me. I'll drop everything for you. Just say the word. I'll be running, even if I'm on the other side of the world."

Now Damian nods. Let's the cotton of his pillowcase soak up his silent tears.

He doesn't feel much better, but he doesn't feel so awful anymore either. He supposes that's the best it will get in this situation.

So he just sits there until his head begins to dip with exhaustion and Richard pulls him in so he's laying against his shoulder. His eyelids droop, and they stay there, together, like they used to.

It's scary to allow himself to become attached to things, but he can never help himself with Richard.

The best that he can do is enjoy it while it lasts, and make the most of it.

Richard will be gone when father comes home, but for now he's here, and he's warm, and he's solid.

Damian falls asleep, and Richard doesn't leave that night.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #jin writes #fanfiction #dc comics

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writingblock101 · 5 years ago

Text

Insufferable (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Request for anon: “Would you write a Damian fic that’s him basically being a total brat in the beginning and immediately starting an antagonistic or combative relationship only to be thrown on his ass when he’s like wait?? I think I actually like her?? How do I get her to stop arguing with me??

Word Count: 3,700

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013

You and Damian are 12 at the beginning of this. Enjoy!

“That was awesome!” Jon grins. “But watch this!” He fires laser beams from his eyes at the target down the range.

“Whoa!” You cheer. “Oh, I got another one!” You notch and fire six consecutive arrows, hitting the target in the pattern of a smiley face.

Jon laughs.

“Can you do any other shapes?”

“I’m working on doing animals. Roy thinks it’s funny, and Jason wants me to learn how to spell out messages,” You grin proudly.

You started as a street rat in Star City inspired by Green Arrow and Arsenal but you bit off a little more than you could chew. Good thing Arsenal was there to watch your back then he found himself in possession of a protege. To this day, Roy swears he still doesn’t know how you talked him into training you, but Jason told you he has a soft spot for street kids.

You’re at the Justice League Watch Tower because apparently the Justice League wants to work out a deal with the Outlaws or something. You think it’s stupid, but you guess you can give credit to League for trying to bridge the gap between themselves and the Outlaws. Batman has failed for years to do so effectively, but then again, for the world’s greatest detective, Batman is kind of a dumbass.

Luckily, you didn’t have to sit in on the shit show because Superman brought Superboy with him, and apparently Batman is bringing Robin. Jon speaks highly of Damian, but Jason refers to him as the “demon child”. Then again, Jason didn’t like Tim for a long time, but you think Tim is cool, so maybe Jason’s wrong about Damian.

“Oh, great, another arrow,” A new voice groans from behind you.

“Damian!” Jon grins. “This is Y/N, Black Falcon!”

“I was expecting someone more impressive, but perhaps I had my standards too high for an arrow,” Damian narrows his eyes.

Okay, maybe Jason wasn’t wrong...

“Funny,” You raise an eyebrow. “I thought Robin would be taller.”

“I am a perfectly adequate height,” He growls.

“Okay, pipsqueak.”

Damian rolls his eyes again.

“It’s clear you’ve been living with Todd by your childish insults.”

“At least I don’t get mistaken for a nine-year-old.”

“Perhaps that is a problem you have. I am twelve.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You watch his jaw clench, a smirk working onto your face. It’s almost cute how hard he is pretending to not be annoyed by you.

“Y/N was showing me her archery skills! Look, she can make shapes!” Jon points toward the target downrange, probably hoping to diffuse the situation quickly building between you and Damian.

Damian rolls his eyes, looking unimpressed.

“What tactical advantage does shooting your arrows in a smiley face give you?”

“None,” You admit, slinging your bow over your shoulder. “But I bet you can’t do something more impressive.”

You see him rising to the bait as he glares at you.

“I don’t stoop to childish competitions to prove myself.”

“Come on, Dami,” Jon pleads. “Show us the trick with the Batarang and the apple!”

Damian whips around to glare at Jon for exposing him partaking in “childish competitions” while your mischievous smile deepens.

“Unless you’re scared of your party trick looking lame,” You taunt.

“It’s not a party trick!” Damian barks.

“Right because I’m sure you have a lot of use for being able to throw Batarangs at apples in the field,” You roll your eyes.

“Target practice,” Damian snaps.

“And a normal target wouldn’t work?”

Damian glares at you for a long minute.

“Whatever,” He mutters, shoving past Jon toward another room.

“Does this mean you’re going to do it?” Jon asks hopefully.

“Fine.”

“Yes!” Jon grins, then motions for you to follow him. “Come on! We’ve gotta go get apples from the cafeteria!”

“There’s a cafeteria in here?” You dazedly question, following Jon and Damian.

“Tt,” Damian rolls his eyes.

While the Outlaws have some cool technology (especially Kori’s ship!), most of their technology pales in comparison to the Justice League’s resources. Damian retrieves apples while Jon explains some of the other technology around the Watch Tower. The three of you return to the training room then Jon tosses an apple into the air.

Damian throws three Batarangs, slicing the apple into six even pieces in midair. He glances back at you, looking smug. You will admit, his accuracy is impressive. You’ve thrown knives before and it’s hard to be accurate throwing one knife at a moving object, much less three and slicing the target evenly, but of course, you can’t show that you’re impressed.

“Hey, Jon, can you slice one of these apples mid-air with your laser eyes?” You ask. “I’ve got an idea.”

Jon grins and eagerly throws an apple in a high arch, then cuts it with a blast of his laser eyes. You notch an arrow and fire it through the two apple halves, pinning it to the wall before it can hit the ground.

“Nice,” Jon praises while Damian looks bored. “My turn,” He hands you an apple to throw.

You toss it for him and Jon flashes his laser eyes again, but this time when the apple hits the ground, there’s a zig-zag pattern wrapped around it.

“That was cool!” You grin.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Damian looking at the apple with an impressed expression.

“Toss two at once,” You tell Jon, notching an arrow.

He throws two apples into the air, then you fire your arrow through both apples, pinning them to the wall.

“Tt,” Damian rolls his eyes. “Throw two more,” He tells Jon.

Jon grins, then throws two more apples. Damian throws a Batarang, one side of it catching one apple and the other burying itself into the other apple so that by the time the Batarang hits the floor, both apples are embedded on either side of it.

“I bet I can hit an apple before you can slice it with a Batarang,” You challenge Damian.

A smirk crosses his face.

“Be prepared to be disappointed.”

. . .

By the time Roy came to get you, you, Jon, and Damian had ran out of apples. Instead, Damian was throwing one of his Batarangs with a hole in the center of it while you tried to fire an arrow through the hole.

You notch another arrow then nod at Damian. He tosses the Batarang. You follow it with your arrow through the high arch then release, the arrow flying through the air and through the hole in the middle of the Batarang.

“Yes!” You cheer, high fiving Jon and Damian.

“Damian! Do you think you can hit one of Y/N’s arrows mid-air?” Jon asks.

Damian glances over at you for a moment.

“I can hit one of Y/N’s arrows easily, but will Y/N be able to hit one of my Batarangs?” He taunts.

“I could hit it in my sleep.”

Before Damian could remark with something witty, Roy interrupts.

“And as much as I would love to watch that, I don’t feel like replacing all your arrows yet. Come on, let’s go home.”

You frown at Roy but turn to Jon and Damian.

“Next time,” You promise, then follow Roy out of the room.

Jon and Damian watch you two leave then Jon turns to Damian with a grin.

“Y/N is cool. I like her.”

Damian rolls his eyes.

“She’s insufferable.”

“Sure,” Jon agrees knowingly.

Damian glares at him, ignoring the mischievous smile on Jon’s face.

. . .

You’ve never been to the Manor before, but a few months after the Justice League meeting, Jason had to retrieve some intel from Batman, and Roy sent you along with him to make sure Jason doesn’t start a fight with his foster father. He says Jason wants to set a good example for you so he won’t get in a fistfight with Bruce while you’re there.

“Alright, come on,” Jason ruffles your hair. “I know you want to see the Batcave.”

Currently, you’re sitting in the kitchen, chatting with Alfred, but at the mention of the Batcave, your face lights up.

“Thanks for the sandwich, Alfred!” You grin, chasing Jason out of the room.

“Of course,” He smiles.

Jason leads you over to the grandfather clock then moves the hands on the clock to a specific time. The clock shifts, revealing a doorway.

“Whoa,” You breathe, following Jason down the stairs into the huge cave.

You walk around the room slowly, taking everything in then you notice a figure sitting in front of the Bat computer.

“Tim!” You grin.

Tim spins around in his chair and smiles at you.

“Hey, Y/N, hey Jay. I didn’t know you guys were going to be here.”

“I’m picking up some intel from Bruce,” Jason tells him. “Roy made me bring Y/N to make sure I would be on my best behavior,” He rolls his eyes.

“And I wanted to see the Batcave,” You add.

“Bruce is in the back,” Tim jerks his head back toward a different area of the cave. “Come on, Y/N, I’ll show you around.”

You grin and eagerly follow Tim around, soaking in all the information. He shows you the various souvenirs Batman has collected from the Rogue gallery, the collection of Bat suits and past Robin suits, miscellaneous technology, and the vast array of weapons.

“This one is yours, right?” You ask, taking the bo staff off the wall.

“Yep,” Tim confirms, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You ever used one?”

“No,” You admit. “But sometimes I use my bow for hand to hand combat when I’m in a pinch. I’m not very good, but I’m getting better. Jason is helping me.”

“I could show you a few moves if you want,” Tim offers.

“Yeah!” You grin then Tim leads you onto the mats in the training area.

In comparison to Dick and Jason, Tim is fairly skinny. He doesn’t have the advantage of lots of muscle mass, so he has to compensate in different ways which is perfect for training you. While Roy and Jason are both good teachers, they are also both jacked while as of a year ago, you were starving on the streets, so you’ve been building your muscle back up, but you’re nowhere near their muscle mass (and probably never will be).

Tim shows you a few moves with his bo staff and even finds a bow for you to practice with so you can translate the moves over to your choice of weapon. He also shows you a few moves that allow you to flip someone over, even when they are heavier than you.

You push with your legs, driving your hips forward and pull down on Tim’s left arm, forcing him over your shoulder. Tim hits the ground with an “oof” but grins up at you.

“That was good,” He praises then you hear a familiar scoff behind you.

“That was child’s play,” Damian cross his arms.

Tim sighs, sitting up.

“Oh yeah?” You cross your arms. “Come on the mats, I’ll show you child’s play.”

Damian rolls his eyes.

“If I wanted an easy fight, I’d spar Drake.”

“Thanks,” Tim remarks sarcastically.

“Afraid you’re going to lose?” You taunt.

“Tt, I’ve fought against opponents twice your size blindfolded and won. I don’t fear losing.”

“Sounds like a lot of excuses to me.”

“I spend my training time improving, not fighting those beneath me.”

“Beneath you?” You question. “You’re three feet tall. There’s not many people beneath you.”

Tim snickers from the mats while Damian glares at you.

“I am not short!” He protests.

“Sure you aren’t, champ,” You smile condescendingly. “You’re just fun sized!”

Damian glowers at you then steps onto the mats.

“Fine. I’ll partake in your pathetic training exercise.”

You grin then Tim steps off the mats to let you two spar, watching from the side. You will admit that you may be a bit out of your depth by sparing Damian. It’s no secret that he is very well trained and an extremely talented fighter. You’re more a long-range type of fighter, but he’s too damn smug for you to not at least try to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. Somehow, you manage to shake out of Damian’s hold, flinging him off you.

Damian is a good fighter, but you know you’re putting up one hell of a fight right now. He lunges forward, and that’s when you see your opportunity. One minute, Damian is upright, in fighter’s guard, ready to strike, the next minute, he’s on his back staring at the ceiling, all the air knocked out of his lunges.

“Nice job, Y/N!” Tim grins while you cheer, running over to high five him.

“It worked!” You grin. “That was so cool.”

Damian slowly sits up, looking a little dazed then Jason walks over and announces that it’s time to go.

“Bye Tim!” You grin then smirk at Damian. “See you later, Bat Brat!”

Damian doesn’t even have a witty remark to shoot back at the insulting nickname you yelled to him. Once you and Jason leave the cave, Tim looks over at Damian with a knowing grin.

“You look a little starry-eyed there, Dames,” Tim shoots him a shit-eating grin. “Someone has a crush.”

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian growls. “I do not have a crush.”

“Oh please, everyone in this family practically falls in love when they meet someone who can knock them on their ass. I know that look. You like Y/N.”

“No, I do not,” Damian snaps, getting to his feet. “She is insufferable and you’re even bigger idiot than I thought if you think I would ever be attracted to someone like her,” He storms out of the cave while Tim grins.

. . .

Initially, you didn’t want to join the Teen Titans. You think something similar to the Outlaws is more appealing than the Teen Titans, but Roy and Kori convince you to give it a chance. The Titans had an especially big mission that they needed some extra manpower on so you agreed to help.

Low and behold, no one other than Damian Wayne is leading the team. You stroll into the tower with an overnight bag slung over your shoulder, Damian not noticing you until you say:

“Wow, Robin. I remember when I was taller than you. Then again, everyone was taller than you.”

Puberty was kind to Damian, finally blessing him with his father’s height. While Damian doesn’t have near the muscle mass of Bruce (what seventeen year old does?), you predict that Damian will eventually be taller than Bruce.

Damian sighs, slowly turning to face you with an unimpressed look.

“I see your humor hasn’t improved with age.”

“I see you still have a stick up your ass.”

It’s been a few years since you’ve seen Damian. Both of you have grown more into yourselves and improved skills, but some things never change.

“Why are you here?” Damian demands.

“Didn’t you hear? I’m your extra manpower on this mission,” You grin viciously. “I’m Y/N,” You introduce to the few Teen Titans you don’t recognize.

“Great, the Justice League is dooming us to fail,” Damian rolls his eyes.

“They did that when they put you in charge,” You snap back.

“Yes, and I suppose you’ve had lots of experience leading your nonexistent team.”

“Cute,” You sneer, shifting the bag on your shoulder. “I’m going to go claim a bed,” You announce then wander further into the tower.

“So, Dames,” Gar asks. “Who’s your friend?”

“Not a friend,” Damian growls.

“You wish she were more than a friend,” Jon grins.

“No, I do not,” Damian snaps.

“I dunno,” Gar trails off. “It seemed flirty to me. What do you think, Jon?”

“Definitely flirty,” Jon agrees.

“Shut up,” Damian growls. “I was not flirting with Y/N. She is insufferable,” Then Damian storms off.

Gar and Jon exchange a look.

“He’s so into her,” Gar insists.

“Has been since we were twelve,” Jon confirms.

. . .

You’ll admit it. Damian is a good leader. He’s a smug dick, but he’s good at what he does. Of course, just like any other of Damian’s talents, you would never admit this to him. His ego is big enough without you inflating it anymore.

And while Damian is a good leader and a fantastic planner, sometimes, plans go astray, like this plan, right now.

“Shit,” Robin curses.

You frown from where you’re keeping watch while Robin hacks into the compound files.

“What is it?” You ask.

“They’ve got a highly advance software on here that will recover any deleted files from the hard drive,” Robin frowns.

It was a rescue and extraction mission from a highly advanced facility experimenting on kidnapped kids to make super humans. The rest of the team was evacuating the facility while you and Robin went to extract data and destroy files.

“So, we have to destroy the computer system,” You frown, looking at the vast system which spreads across the huge room then look in your quiver. “I only have two exploding arrows left and they aren’t strong enough to take out everything.”

Robin curses in Arabic.

“I don’t have enough explosives on me to destroy the whole system either. Perhaps Superboy could--” He’s cut off by the sound of footsteps running your direction.

You draw your bow again, ready to fire.

“Looks like we’ve been found.”

As the first security guard rounds the counter, you let the arrow fly, shooting him in the shoulder. Robin uses a flying roundhouse to knock out the guard while you fire an arrow at a guard attempting to sneak up on him. You fire another arrow then punch a nearby guard in the face. Before the guard can recover, you backhand him with your bow then knock him backward with a front kick.

“Black Falcon!” Robin calls, then flings a guard toward you.

You fire an arrow into the guard’s shoulder and knee, the man collapsing to the ground with a scream.

“We’ve gotta figure out how to destroy that computer without blowing up the building,” You grab Robin’s arm. “Come on, before they send more guards!”

Robin nods, running back to the computer room with you, emptying the small explosives he carries with him.

“These will take out some of the systems, but it won’t destroy the whole thing,” Robin frowns, digging through his utility belt.

“What if I fire my explosive arrows at them? Between both of the explosives, that would be enough, right?”

Robin pauses to think for a moment then begins arranging the explosives in a specific pattern.

“Can you fire both of your explosive arrows at the same time?”

“Pft, easily.”

Robin nods then finishes arranging the explosives.

“We need to get to a higher vantage point,” He pauses, looking around the room, then spots a vent. “There.”

“Uh… You’re a little big for a vent, don’t you think?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at Robin’s broad shoulders.

“Getting into small, high places is Nightwing’s specialty. I am more than capable.”

You shrug.

“Whatever you say.”

“I’ve set the explosives to be a chain reaction. Fire at that one,” Then Robin points to the explosives at the top of the chain and you two make your way into the vent.

While it’s a tight squeeze for Robin, he’s true to his word and maneuvers expertly into the vent. The only feasible way to hold your bow is sideways, but you’ve shot sideways plenty of times.

“You ready, Bat Brat?” You ask.

Robin nods curtly, clearly unimpressed with the old nickname. You grin at him then fire at the explosives.

. . .

The rest of the mission goes smoothly. All of the people experimented on are getting medical attention, any of the Titans that were injured are being patched up, and there were no casualties. You don’t mind the Titans. Heck, you might even join the team.

Currently, you’re sitting on the roof of the tower, your feet dangling over the edge. While the Titans are cool, you enjoy your tall perches. You blame Roy for introducing you to the thrilling world of heights.

Someone silently sits down next to you. You don’t even have to turn your head to know who it is.

“You’ve got a good team, Dames,” You tell him.

“They’re adequate,” He says simply.

“That’s pretty high praise coming from you,” You tease.

Damian rolls his eyes.

“You were also… adequate on the mission.”

“Aw sucks, Dames. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Damian rolls his eyes again.

“You weren’t too bad yourself,” You tell him, bumping his shoulder. “You’re a good leader. This team is lucky to have you.”

You see Damian look down out of the corner of your eye. You turn to see him hiding a blush.

“Aw, Damian, are you blushing?” You tease, poking his cheek.

“Shut up!” Damian snaps, his face growing darker. He bats your hand away. “I’m not blushing!”

“Sure you’re not,” You grin, leaning back on your hands and admiring the city.

You two sit in silence for a few minutes, watching the sunset over the city. Maybe Roy and Kori are right. Maybe it’s time for you to join a team of your own…

“I…” Damian starts slowly. “I enjoyed having you in the field today.”

You look over at Damian with a shit-eating grin.

“Careful, Dames. With words like that, you might make me think you actually like me.”

Damian blushes again, looking irritated.

“Your personality is insufferable, but you have good skills.”

“Uh-huh,” You nod, not buying anything he is saying. “Is that why you’re sitting on the roof with me and not your teammates?”

Damian doesn’t say anything which only deepens your grin.

“I enjoyed today too. We work well together,” You say. “I think I’ll have to tag along on another mission soon.”

“...I’d like that,” Damian admits.

You grin again, laying your head on Damian’s shoulder.

“You know, you may be a cocky son of a bitch, but you’re alright, Dames.”

“You’re still insufferable,” Damian tells you but leans his head on yours anyways.

“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling with that line.”

“I don’t need to fool anyone, it’s the truth!”

“Uh-huh, Dames. Sure it is.”

Me? Write a Damian fic where I’m happy with his dialog and characterization? It’s more likely than I thought.

Part 2

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chronicbatfictioner · 4 years ago

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"Overall, it wasn't so bad..." Tim commented.

"Except for the fact that Bane roared like a constipated bear and literally lunged at Damian and Jason threw him out the window..." Barbara quipped, her face serious but her lips were still twitching. "I... am highly amused. Twice."

"You were laughing until you bent over double that if you weren't in a wheelchair, you've probably knelt on the floor laughing." Dinah deadpanned. "It was hilarious."

"Yes, it was. The fact that Jason could actually lift Bane and throw him out... Did you guys see Bruce's face, though! Oh my god! He... he looked at Jason as if he'd seen the lord savior Jésus Todd or something!" Tim crowed. "Like, the dude Bane got thrown out a bay window twice. I get the awe, I was a little star-struck myself. But I can't believe dude actually wanted to try the third time until Alfred pointed a damn shotgun to his forehead! I can't even!"

"This thus solidifies my thoughts that the Waynes may be trying to figure out a way to get rid of this... brute without... I dunno..." Barbara pondered.

"Gotten themselves broken in half?" Tim suggested. "He sure insinuated that he would do such a thing to Damian."

"Oh, gee, Tim. Which part of his speech insinuated that? 'You lying bastard!', or 'I'll break you in halves!'?"

"I'm partial to the 'bastard' remark, really. I mean, pot, kettle?" Tim replied, giggling.

"Technically," Helena Bertinelli - The Huntress - sighed as she chimed in; "and ironically, at that; the 'bastard' would be Bane since he claimed to be Thomas Wayne's son and is younger than Bruce. Which means he was 'conceived' while Dr Thomas was already married to Mrs Wayne..."

"Right? Bruce and Talia were two consenting adults, albeit under 20 years old; and were wed in a local ritual witnessed by locals, according to Jason. You should see Bane's face when Jason presented copies of the marriage's registry." Tim continued.

"Oh, we saw, all right. Harper's drones worked quite well." Dinah replied, snickering, referring to Harper Row, one of their tech 'consultants'. "Even at that height, it still delivered crystal clear pictures. I vote we use them again."

"No vote needed, the drones are on stand-by at the Wayne Manor permanently at this point. I'm more interested in his reaction when Damian offered them a DNA test." Barbara told her.

"I'm more interested in Bruce Wayne's reaction, really. He didn't seem too surprised, as if he was expecting this to happen or something." Helena pointed out.

"Maybe he did," Barbara replied absently. "Dude has been swingin' more than the roarin' 50s, there has got to be some juniors out there that even he didn't know of."

"Ugh, while I'm not a fan of Bruce Wayne's womanizing ways, I personally don't think he's that reckless. He's not a drinker or a junkie, as far as I know. He has virtually no vice other than extreme sports." Helena argued.

"I agree," Selina, who has been quietly watching from the corner, chimed in. "This is a guy who got visibly antsy when some sexy girls in bikinis come up to him - I thought he was gay. But if he'd been... wedded to Talia Al Ghul all these times, that would make sense. He knew exactly where he stood, and what would come up if he screwed it up."

"Has Jason or Dick said anything of the Doc and Mama Wayne's reaction?" Helena asked.

"They seemed truly confused, a little apprehensive, but didn't seem to be opposed to the idea that Damian is Bruce's child. Dr Wayne said that a DNA test wouldn't be necessary, but Jason insisted it." Tim replied, and added a little absently a few heartbeats later. "But why would he, a physician with more specialties than a truck stop, would not question the biology of anyone claiming to be his biological descendant?"

Barbara glared at Tim, "excellent question, Tim. If my dad has someone coming out of the boonies saying he's related to me, the first thing dad would do is draw blood."

"They... don't care?" Dinah suggested. "Maybe the Wayne men were less... chaste than they appear?"

Barbara glared at her this time. "Of all the women Bruce Wayne has dated, I've only recorded a handful who would end up in a second date. Less than a handful who were actually mentioned beyond social media photos; and you know how I feel with social media photos: generic, unverifiable, and showoff-only. Dates with Bruce Wayne generally would start with the pick-up, dinner, and then some form of jewelry. I..." she looked at Selina and Helena, "you've both dated him at one point or the other."

Selina shrugged, "I went for a gala dinner, and was honestly there to scope the homeowner's safe, really. I wasn't interested in a follow-up date." she replied. "Helena?"

"Social arrangement. My people called his people and boom, we were on a red carpet." she elaborated. Helena was a part of a mafia family, until she decided that the mafia way would not be the best way to make Gotham a happy place for all, and donned the costume of the Huntress to hunt down wrongdoers. Barbara had decided to let her join to prevent her from going over the line and murder anyone out of overzealous-ness; but also in order to get a line-in into the mafia families.

"No second dates, either, huh?"

"No, I'll have to check, though. I think his people called me again, but I wasn't interested in a vapid playboy, even if he has more money than Jesus."

"Vicky Vale," Selina reminded. "She has had a... somewhat lengthy relationship with Bruce some years ago."

"Sooo... the next answer in our mystery could probably be answered by interviewing an investigative journalist." Tim commented.

"Oh, no..." Barbara grinned mischievously. "Not this investigative journalist. I know just the journalist to talk to when it comes to gossip among themselves."

Dinah snorted a laugh. "I thought you didn't like her."

"I liked Vale less," Barbara griped. "Plus, Vale is already getting news on Bruce's probable child; why shouldn't I send Lois Lane the allegations of the Bane Conspiracy?"

"Conspiracy with who?" Dinah asked curiously.

"Oh, the Waynes, of course, to get rid of the Court of Owls," Barbara smirked. "Why should we be the only ones racking our respective and collective brains when we can have someone else on the ground doing the grunt work?"

"Babs, you can be... pretty evil sometimes," Selina remarked. "I know there's got to be a reason why I like you."

"I'm also awesome with technology and can launder your ill-gotten money and make it legal and undetected." Barbara pointed out.

"Oh no, that's why I liked you." Helena quipped smirking. "Seriously, how many mob family can say their ill-gotten money is accountable by law?"

"As long as it is within the facets of the law, and so on and so forth... Anyway! Tim, you're quiet for more than two seconds. I'm always nervous when you're quiet."

"Just thinking..." Tim said, looking a little lost in his own brain. He often does that when he has at least a dozen scenarios running through his mind. Through the time of Barbara knowing him, Tim would probably be the only person whose claims of 'just thinking' wouldn't immediately be picked on by anybody.

"Care to share with the class, kitten?" Selina prompted.

"It's not fully mapped yet... but I was thinking. What if the Waynes aren't... didn't cooperate with Bane in order to destroy the Court of Owls, and they're literally being hostages in their own home? What if Bruce Wayne has predicted something like this could happen, and has gotten himself all prepared all the way to ten years ago when he wedded Talia Al Ghul? I mean, who would have had enough firepower to defeat Bane other than the Al Ghuls? Look at Jason," Tim pointed out. "He threw Bane out the window as if he was a fly. While Jason is as solid as a rock but isn't a metahuman - Bane is. He was assigned by Talia herself - out of Gotham - to protect and guide Damian-- why? What's so special about Jason Todd? Why did Talia choose him? Why didn't Bruce Wayne - at least - act shocked when Damian said he was his son? Surprised, sure. But not shocked or in denial.

"Who's gonna win if Bane turned out to be Dr Wayne's son? Who's gonna lose? What will they lose? Who is Bane accountable to? If none, who planted the idea of him being Dr Wayne's son? Because from what I've read about him, he was born and raised in a prison with his mother - no mention of a father. His mother was an insurgent of Hasaragua, fighting against US-condoned democracy. And while there was a record of Dr Wayne being there, there was no exact date and length of stay, because he was there privately and not as a part of Médecin sans Frontieres or something like that.

"What about Mrs Wayne? She wasn't a poor or uneducated woman, since she was a Kane. Society-wise, do you think she would have tolerated her husband's indiscretion, both then and now? Yet she kept quiet for nearly two months. She has a Ph.D. in psychiatry, and would she be the ones to keep quiet about DNA testing and all that? Personally, I don't think so. If my mother - a little 'lesser' society lady compared to Martha Kane-Wayne - ever got a word of a child that 'probably' got fathered by my dad, she would have demanded a divorce right away without bothering with a paternity test, sure. But my dad, who was also a society man, would have at least attempted to convince her that it was a mistake and/or it was a lie. What best method to decide a child's paternity than DNA test?

"The criminal front in general - especially the costumed criminals - has been pretty quiet since Bane eliminated the Court of Owls. Why? That's rather stupid since we know that the Court's Talons were the ones who made moves to 'discourage' the costumed freaks. Annnd... that's where I couldn't map out things further." Tim rambled.

"Keep talking, even half sentences are better than none, Timmy." Barbara prompted. Tim might have had a brain that worked a mile a minute, but he was still very young and would often get flustered with himself. Barbara, on the other hand, has an eidetic memory, and things Tim said tend to stick to her brain and would fill the gaps in any puzzles she might be thinking about. Even half sentences.

"Right, I do the fact spreads, you do the jigsaw-puzzling." Tim nodded. "The murders of Talia and Ra's Al Ghul. Jason said they were deliberately murdered in a way that they would never be able to be resurrected through the Lazarus Pit. The perpetrators would be the League of Shadows, a rogue splinter of the League of Assassins. Lead by Lady Shiva. Why? Why were they murdered? Why now and not - say - next year or last year? Who benefited by their death? Aaand... I'm done, for now, I think..."

"I... can feel a headache brewing," Dinah admitted. "You and your conspiracy theories." she rubbed Tim's head fondly. Tim gave her a half-smile, still trying to articulate the thoughts in his head.

"That's why we need him, he takes the most random input and makes a theory out of it, and some of them would actually make sense. I'll start a search string based on some of your questions. If you have more, don't hesitate to tell me, Tim." Barbara realized belatedly that her tone sounded dismissive, and turned to Tim. "Want me to call up for Chinese and powwow a little more?" she added.

Tim shook his head, still glaring blankly. "Thanks, I gotta go... I've some... things to look into. Thanks, Babs," he replied, ending it with a genuine smile as he got up.

"Want to come home with me, Kitten?" Selina asked, worry for Tim apparent on her normally-blank face.

"No, thanks, Ma. I gotta go back to the mansion, just in case, right?" Tim pointed out.

"Then Dinah should go with you," Selina decided.

"She's coming there later, right, aunt Dinah?" Tim asked. Dinah nodded.

"I'll get home with food, so don't worry about that, kiddo." she said. Tim waved them all and then walked out.

Once he was out of the door, Selina sighed. "Ah, young love..."

"Right? Remind me to check in on him before going to the House. I don't want to walk in on something and have him traumatized." Dinah agreed.

Barbara glared at them quizzically, and then at Helena, who shrugged. "Grayson said it first, I think. Our kitten is growing up. I just hope that Jason guy is worth his firsts..."

The memory of Tim gawking at Jason when he thought Barbara wasn't watching flashed in her mind.

Oh.

And then of Jason blatantly checking Tim out just before Oracle made her appearance, and at times when her Oracle projection was turned off.

"Oh boy," she sighed.

"That's about it in a nutshell. Good thing I've told him of the birds and the birds..." Selina grinned slyly.

"Millennial parenting at best, Ms Selina Kyle." Dinah grinned. "Come on, let's go patrol and induce the fear of goddesses to Gotham's low-lives before inducing maternal fear to our little kitten."

"...or to the big tabby. We'll see," Selina added, waving as she and Dinah walked out of the room.

Suddenly Barbara felt a little sorry for Jason. Just a tiny, teensy, weensy bit of sorry.

#Batless!AU #jaytim #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Barbara Gordon #Selina Kyle #Helena Bertinelli #Dinah Drake #Oracle

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fidothefinch · 4 years ago

Text

Homeward Bound

For Whumptober Day 28: Mugged (because I am really late for the “lost” prompt and this is close enough).

Warnings: blood, injury, concussion, one moment of implied solicited child prostitution, homophobic slurs, police officers, briefly implied domestic abuse, briefly implied animal injury Despite the warnings, this is, like, mostly soft.

Read on AO3

“Hey, kid, I think you dropped something.”

When Damian turned, he was looking down the barrel of a gun.

He frowned, unimpressed with the ruse. “I do not carry such crude weapons on myself.”

The man jabbed the barrel of the gun forward, toward him. “Shut up or you’ll figure out just how much damage my crude weapons can do.”

Titus growled up at the man, and the man glanced down just long enough to lose his concentration. Damian sprang forward to attack.

- - - - - - - - -

Damian’s head was pounding. He groaned despite himself and tried to pry his eyes open. They wouldn’t focus as well as he would have liked, but he was pretty sure that he was not waking up anywhere familiar.

He took a moment to assess himself, before broadcasting his return to consciousness. There was a cool breeze running down his shirt, and moisture collected on the places where his bare skin had been touching the air. He wasn’t wearing his Robin gear; that narrowed things down, at least. He didn’t hear anybody near him, either, so risked opening his eyes.

Even as they fought to bring the world into focus, he couldn’t figure out where he was.

There were spindly branches above him, silhouettes against a rapidly-darkening sky. The air smelled of damp earth and decaying leaves; autumnal. He could hear birds chirping, all around him, the low hum of traffic beneath that. A lamppost somewhere past his feet flickered on.

He levered himself up with his elbows. He was sitting on a soft patch of ground. When he lifted a hand to his head to stop the beating there, he found dried blood and several blades of grass in his hair.

What the hell had happened?

He racked his memory, but the last thing he remembered was the taste of the orange juice he had had with breakfast. It was clearly the evening now, and the few people he saw around him were bustling homeward.

Home.

He should get home.

With some work, he managed to get himself all the way to his feet, not even needing more than a single tree to catch his balance when he wobbled on tingly legs. He had been out of it long enough to let his limbs fall asleep, at least.

He reached for his phone; Richard would be worried about him by now, surely. But when he got the device from his pocket, a pit dropped in his stomach. The screen was cracked, and when he tried to press the button on the side, it read “Critical Low Battery,” and turned off again.

He would never hear the end of this.

He sighed, tucking the phone back into his pocket so he could harvest its spare parts for later. He would just have to walk, then, until he found a bus stop – or train station – or ferry – that could take him home. And maybe he would figure out where he is, too.

The pavement he had woken next to stretched off in two directions, and he randomly chose one and walked. It wasn’t like it would make much difference, since he expected it to be a long night, anyway. But as he took his first few steps, he staggered sideways.

Maybe he had hit his head harder than he thought. His hand found the bleeding again, and with searching fingers he found a large knot on the back of his head, where the flesh had swelled. Looking around, it didn’t look like he had hit his head on the pavement, and there had not been a significant amount of blood in the grass where he had gotten up. Maybe he had hit his head, and moved before passing out?

It didn’t matter, now.

The air was getting colder, and he hadn’t brought a jacket with him. He didn’t want to spend the night outside, so he quickened his step.

A familiar tinkling followed him down the path. He turned, too abruptly for his failing sense of balance, and nearly fell into his loyal friend.

“Titus,” Damian breathed. The dog whined at him. He was limping, one of his front paws held up. Damian knelt next to the dog and took his injured paw. “What did you do?”

He carefully felt around the pad and found no thorns or irritants, but when he felt around the knee Titus yelped in pain.

Damian hushed him. “I apologize,” he whispered. He rose to his feet again. “I will have Pennyworth take a look at you when we return.” As he tried to rise, another wave of dizziness hit him, and he fell backward, nearly hitting his head again.

“Hey, kid!”

Damian whipped his head around to the source of the noise. A man was walking toward him, down the path. Damian hadn’t heard him approaching.

“Are you okay?” the man asked, then stopped short as he spotted the blood on Damian’s head. “Oh, man.”

Damian waved a hand over his shoulder flippantly and rose to his feet. “I am fine.” Gotham citizens weren’t usually so. . . hospitable, and Damian couldn’t help being suspicious of him. Damian would deal with this on his own. “I am on my way home.”

“Are your parents around? I don’t think you should be—”

A hand landed on Damian’s shoulder, and without thinking he tugged the man down and around into an arm lock. “Don’t touch me,” he warned.

The man’s breath caught. “Let go of me!”

Damian blinked, and he released the man’s hand. The man stood to his full height, rubbing his wrist where it had been bent at an awkward angle. His eyes were wide, now, with something like fear. “H-hey, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Damian stepped back unevenly, and Titus stepped in front of him. His ears pressed flat to his head and his teeth glinted in the light form the lamppost. A warning growl emitted from his muzzle.

The man, wisely, backed away, hands held high.

Damian watched him move away until he was satisfied with the distance between them. Then he clicked his tongue, and Titus’s posture shifted as he glanced back to Damian. “Come, Titus,” Damian called. He mustered enough energy to make his voice steady and commanding.

Titus gave one sharp bark to the man before turning tail and obediently following Damian down the opposite path.

They didn’t make it out of earshot before he heard the man pull his phone out. “Yeah, I’m Robinson Park. I think I’ve found a homeless kid.”

Damian wasn’t close enough to tell whether the man was calling the police, and he certainly didn’t want to be dragged into another kidnapping. He forced his feet to move faster, and he ran.

The man had said something about Robinson Park, right? That put Damian almost an hour’s walk from the penthouse, and that was assuming he was moving in the right direction.

He tried navigating with the stars, but there was too much light pollution; the one star he thought he had found turned out to be a plane.

“Where are we,” he asked Titus.

The dog huffed, but despite Damian’s greatest wish, was not able to respond.

Moving at all was better than staying in place. He would be able to figure out where he was when he got out of the park.

The walk felt like hours. Whether it was fatigue, or dehydration, or his concussion, the world would slant sideways occasionally, tripping him up until Titus’s warm flank would help steady him. His mouth was incredibly dry, and his stomach empty. He grimaced when they got too close to any lamplights, as the glow would make the icepick in his head dig harder. It was better that they stay away from the walking paths, anyway; as it grew dark, the people wandering the park became, in Richard’s words, “shadier.”

He could smell the road before he could see it. Hot asphalt, gasoline, and spent cigarettes wafted from beyond the tasteful brick ledge cornering the park from the rest of the city. The sun had set completely by the time he reached the road beyond.

He reached the sidewalk and peered up at the stared up at the street signs, trying to make sense of them. To his great frustration, his brain refused to make words from the letters. There were still a handful of cars idling at the stoplight. One of them blasted bass music loud enough Damian could feel it under his feet. The more tasteful lilt of classical music spilled out from a different car.

One car pulled up to the curb next to him. Damian couldn’t make out the shadowed face of the man driving, but he knew enough to be wary when he asked, “How much?”

Damian shook his head, despite how it made the world spin. As Robin, he would have taken him out on sight. As Damian, all he could react with was a “No,” as pointedly disgusted as he could make it.

“Faggot,” the man sneered.

Damian didn’t have time to reply before a cup burst against his chest, soaking his shirt and pants in ice-cold slush. His gasp was lost under the squeal of tires as the car pulled away. He didn’t have the thought to memorize his license plate until he was too far away.

The light was green, and cars raced by faster that Damian could track, though he was beginning to think that reflected more on himself than their driving habits. The movement paired with the sticky-sweet cherry smell from the ICEE was making him nauseous.

Titus licked the syrup from his bare wrist in commiseration. His tongue was warm against the cooling night air.

Damian shivered, the breeze from the handful of passing cars cooling his wet clothes even more. He needed to get inside soon, or he risked hypothermia.

He waited until there were no cars before crossing the street, and he walked another block, parallel to the park, before finding a small store and slipping inside.

The heat was a blessing, but the lighting was harsh enough he had to squint. Damian’s fingers tingled as they warmed up, and he perused the small aisles for something warm to wear for several minutes.

“No dogs.”

Damian looked up, and the cashier, who was the only other person in the store, had finally looked up from their magazine.

“He has excellent behavior,” he started.

She rolled her eyes. “Out.” She pointed toward the door.

Damian scowled. He wanted to protest more, but he couldn’t summon the brain power for it. “Very well.” He gave her his best glare on his way past.

Leaving the store was difficult, as the outside temperature felt even colder when he hadn’t had time to acclimate to it.

He shoved his numb hands in his wet pockets. His wallet was missing; he could not have purchased anything, anyway.

He voiced his thoughts out loud as he walked down the street, more to keep warm than with a destination in mind. “If my wallet is gone, somebody may have taken it,” he mused. “I may have been the victim of a mugging.” He felt for that tender place on his head again and winced. “Gone wrong.”

Titus loped along next to him, ears high and alert for any sign of danger.

Damian lost track of time and how many blocks he had walked before he spotted the bus stop. Inside the sheltered benches was a large map. “Titus, look,” he mumbled. Titus did not look, but wrapped himself around Damian’s legs, watching his six o’clock while Damian studied the graphic.

It took far too long for him to find the “You are Here” star, and then he couldn’t make sense of the rest of the lines and letters. They seemed to float around his point of focus, blurred around the edges.

“We’ve got him,” somebody said. A radio blipped. Acknowledged. Over.

Damian turned around when a shadow fell over him. It was a police officer, wearing a sympathetic smile. “Hey, kid.”

Damian didn’t reply, looking him up and down. When he saw his hand resting against where Damian knew his Taser to be, he tutted. “You are not going to Tase me, are you?”

The officer’s hand flexed, then relaxed, but didn’t move from the position. “Not unless you give me a reason to.”

Damian shook his head as much as he dared. “You are the one approaching me.” He turned back toward the map in dismissal.

“Got a name?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Where are you headed?”

“None of your business.”

“Look,” and the officer stepped toward him, but Titus growled. “Somebody called in some kid acting confused and wandering the city.”

Damian’s shoulders tensed. “I am not confused.”

“Easy, there. I’m not accusing you of anything.”

Damian turned again and crossed his arms. He hated to admit it was more for the warmth than for the intimidation. “Please go on your way. I do not require your assistance.”

The officer whistled under his breath. “That’s a nice bruise you’ve got there. Did you get in a fight?”

Damian’s hand flew to a second, slightly less painful knot on his forehead, but it was too late. The officer had seen.

Damian had been there long enough. The last thing he needed was to be forced into a physical examination. Without saying anything, he moved to duck around the officer and excuse himself.

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Wait a minute, young man.”

Damian stiffened, and the hold relaxed but didn’t release. “Titus, heel,” he commanded, stopping the pending attack. He gave the officer what he hoped was a measured look. “Let go of me.”

“Is there some place I can take you? Do you need a ride home?”

Damian hesitated, and the officer jumped on it. “I can give you a ride in the squad car. I’ll let you try the sirens.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but despite the patronizing, he asked, “and my dog?”

“We’ll call animal patrol to take him to a shelter, and you can go pick him up—”

“No.”

“He’ll be safe, you have my word.”

“Titus stays with me.” The dog sneered at the officer from where he sat by Damian’s feet, clearly still a threat should the officer choose to lunge.

The officer looked at the dog, and back up. He released Damian’s shoulder, and Damian would feel more relieved if it didn’t make him feel less steady on his feet. “If something happened at home, you can report it—”

“Nothing happened.” Not that he remembered, anyway. Damian’s chin rose. “I will return myself.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, son.”

Damian didn’t think; he bolted.

“Hey!” The officer shouted, giving chase.

Damian breathed harder, through the nausea and the pain flaring in his head. His blood was roaring in his ears. He demanded his body move faster.

Titus guided him, a second, ghostlier mirror-Titus weaving in and out of his body. The loyal dog stuck exactly to Damian’s pace so they wouldn’t lose each other. The streets at this pace looked more familiar, and Damian thought he recognized an alley opening ahead. “Left,” he directed, and Titus ducked into the alley, as instructed.

“We’ve got a runner.” He could hear the officer behind him huffing into his radio. “I’m going to need backup.” He was gaining ground; Damian was lagging.

He had just slipped into the alleyway when Titus pivoted around, barking angrily at the officer.

“Titus,” Damian wheezed. The world spun around him, and he had to brace himself against a grimy brick wall. “Come here.”

But the dog ignored him. In fact, Titus suddenly lunged forward, out of his sight, and the officer shouted.

Titus yelped.

“No,” Damian moaned.

He had to keep running. He couldn’t let the officer take him. He couldn’t remember why, but there had been a reason. . .

He stumbled down the alley, turning blindly around corners until he found himself back out on a dark street. There were a few lights on in the windows above him, but not a soul in sight.

Damian’s head felt like it would split in two, like there was a wedge being driven between the hemispheres of his brain with every thump of his heart. He squinted through the darkness until he made out the shape of stairs, leading down toward a basement floor and locked door. It would at least get him out of the wind.

He got two steps down before he tripped over his own feet, flipping down the last six.

He allowed himself to groan at the bottom, feeling all the new places that stung and throbbed.

He must have hit his head again, because he had to blink black spots out of his eyes as he half-crawled, half-dragged himself (his arm, at least, was definitely broken) to the corner under the stairs.

He curled his knees up and tucked his head down, conserving as much body heat as possible.

He blacked out.

Something wet was tugging on his face.

Damian scrunched his nose. There was still a dull ringing in his ears.

No.

That was whining.

Prying his eyelids open felt more difficult than lifting the Batmobile. The world swayed, and he immediately had to shut them again.

“Titus,” he whispered. And it did not sound like a whine. “I am alright.”

Titus continued licking his face, nuzzling his nose underneath Damian’s arms so he could get a better look.

“Damian?”

Damian tensed.

“Damian!”

There were feet pounding down the short stairway. “Alfred! I found him!”

Damian winced at the noise. It was much, much too loud.

“Damian,” Richard breathed again. His voice dropped into something much softer. “Can you look at me?”

Damian lifted his head with gargantuan effort, and lifted his eyelids again.

Richard’s face swam into focus, a deep wrinkle in his forehead. He gasped, when he saw the lump on Damian’s forehead. “What happened to you?” he asked. His hand rose to the lump’s twin on the back of his head and lightly brushed away some of the grime.

It had grown more tender since last night. Like it had opened a floodgate, Damian was suddenly bombarded with all of the aches and pains of the night before. His left arm and head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, slightly syncopated.

Richard clicked his tongue, and leaned back to shout up the stairs. “He hit his head.”

“Oh, dear.” Pennyworth must have been standing at the higher level, but Damian couldn’t look that high up for fear of getting lost in the nausea. “And he is soaking wet. I will fetch a change of clothes from the car.”

As Pennyworth’s voice got distant, Richard leaned in closer. “We’re going to get you home, okay?” He didn’t wait for Damian to acknowledge him; he slipped his arms under Damian’s knees and behind his back and lifted him smoothly. “It’s okay.”

Damian tutted, but even he could admit it lacked his usual passion.

Richard tucked Damian’s head under his chin as he walked up the stairs, and though it was an awkward angle Damian was thankful for the body heat he was able to absorb from it.

Titus followed right at Dick’s feet, not taking his big brown eyes off Damian for a second. He was still limping.

Richard must have caught him looking, because he explained, “Animal Control found the chip, called us out here to pick him up. He wouldn’t stop whining until we followed him.”

Damian reached down to pat Titus’s head with his good hand. “Good boy, Titus.”

Pennyworth fussed over him until he was in clean, dry clothes. The heat was already blasting in the car, and Damian immediately felt himself melting into the seat beneath him.

Richard would not let go. Titus collapsed in his lap in a furry, warm heap.

Damian wouldn’t have it any other way. He was finally home.

#whumptober #no. 28 #mugged #fic #dc #damian wayne #a boy and his dog #fido writes #titus the dog

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srose-foxfire · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do write something of Dami and Rae being separated and then meeting again after x amount of years? Make it fluffy please. thnx!!

A/N: I hope this is fluffy? Enjoy! (P.S I’m sorry this is long)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

“I want you to keep this safe for me. This will be my promise to you that I will return.”

“I will guard it with my life Raven.”

“Thank you, Damian.”She said softly with a smile and slowly turned her back to him and walked toward the blinding light before her. Damian’s heart quicken making it hard to breathe. She was leaving him again; he had been down this road one-too many times and he couldn’t let her leave him.

Damian reached out to grab her, but it seemed he couldn’t get to her. He looked down and saw both his feet were glued to the ground. He then tried calling out her name, but no words came. He strained to make just a single sound, he reached out again to just touchher. To make her look back to him and see how much he neededher in his life. Damian called out again, this time tears started streaming down his face. He continued calling out her name to no avail, she couldn’t hear him as she disappeared into the white blinding light.

-- -- -- --

Damian jerked awake as he gasped for breath, he clutched his aching chest as his heart continue to compress deep within him. His face was soaked by both sweat and tears. Once Damian could collect himself, he settle back into bed and pulled the blanket to cover his naked chest. He rubbed his forehead clean from all the sweat and just stared at the ceiling. His bedroom was illuminated from a small streak of moonlight coming from through the thick dark grey curtains. The light hit a small object on his nightstand making it shine which caused Damian to turn his attention to it.

It was a small black open ring, with a black crescent moon ending on one side and a small black star on the other end. Damian reached and grabbed it, making the small black gems on the crescent and star glimmer under the moonlight. This ring is his sole reminder that Raven will one day return to him. She gave him the ring, the last reminder she had from her mother before she was destroyed as the rest of Azarath by Trigon.

Raven had been gone for nearly seven years now, and not once has Damian been able to get a hold of her. After she had imprisoned her demon father into the sacred crystal on her forehead. Raven started using more of her magic to keep him locked and to suppress his ill-demeanors about her. Raven was fighting him constantly for three years before it started taking a toll on her health. In order to help her, Raven had to leave the Titans and go with Zatanna and John Constantine who were going to help her find a very powerful sacred ground to relocate Trigon’s prison. The two magicians believed they could help continue training Raven in understanding her magic and channeling it from a longer distance so she could have a normal life just like the one she was living around the time Damian had joined the Titans. As much as he wished it, he couldn’t understand why none of her teammates had been allowed to contact her or even help her locate this sacred place.

Damian checked the digital clock on his nightstand, it was 3:00am, he should really go back to sleep and rest up for the long night that waited for him. His father was throwing a masquerade gala to help raise funds for an orphanage. Being a Wayne sometimes came with disadvantages, having to praise and entertain the daughters of partners and businessmen that worked with Wayne Industries. Most girls Damian met weren’t very bright, most of them worried who was wearing the best design dress or who had the best hair and nails done for the night. Damian always pulled through most events but there had been some occasions that some girls would cling onto him like a leech hoping they would end up in his bed. Being Robin, helped him escape those certain leeches.

Putting all these thoughts to the side, Damian couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep fearing he would dream where Raven goes through the light and never returns to him. After Raven’s first year of being gone from the Titans, Damian realized just how much he wanted her to be in his life. It was then he finally understood he actually loved her and would ask Raven to allow him to court her when she finally returned.

-- -- -- --

Could someone just please shoot him down or better yet some emergency rise for Robin to be needed and take Damian Wayne away for this gala. Since everyone was wearing a mask, no one could identify him. He had stood at a distance when his father announced the start of the gala and giving a very moving speech to get everyone to donate. None one and no leechhad seemed to figure out where Bruce Wayne’s youngest son was in the gala. Though he didn’t have to entertain anyone he was terribly alone and bored to his mind.

His so-called brothers ditched him at the last minute, none of them picked up his calls or answer his texts. Tim and Jason were no surprise, they hardly came to any galas or events hosted by Wayne Industries. Dick Grayson however always strides to be the best oldest supportive brother, and when he was supposed to be a goodbrother, he’s a no-show. Next time Damian sees either one of them, they are dead meat.

Looking down again at his phone it was a little pass 9pm, in a few minutes an announcer will announce a small dance will begin. Good thing this time his toes will be sparred. Not wanting to pay attention, Damian accidently caught small talk from two young men talking about which of the two were going to score to take to bed a young lady dressed in white. Damian looked up and examined the two guests, they were both well-dressed though it seems they fed off of their family’s money. Damian narrowed his eyes at them and being very discreet he followed their line of sight to see who they were preying at.

His eyes widen when he saw her. She was dressed in a sleeveless pearl white mermaid dress, following the ‘v’ shape her bosom, it was decorated with white feathers. From her waistline to the bottom of her dress; there were silver embroidery scattered, making her sparkle like starlight. Her skin was pale, but it glowed beautifully under the lighted golden chandeliers. Her hair black as a raven’s feathers was long and curled to her waist. To complement her attire and her beauty she was wearing a white mask, with white feathers fanning out from one corner of her mask.

She was a goddess, among mortals. Damian couldn’t understand why he was so entranced by her, she wasn’t her. And yet he was making his way towards this mysterious woman as someone announced the start of the dance.

“Excuse me, may I have this dance?” Damian asked with the upmost of sincerity he ever gave to an unknown stranger.

“You may.”

Damian had to keep himself from frowning. Even though he was wearing a simple black domino mask someone could notice with how unpleased he was that the mysterious woman had her eyes hidden. He hadn’t noticed before, but the eye area was covered by a thin white lace mesh, making it impossible to see her looking back at him or to even distinguish her eye color.

Damian place his hand on her small back and guided her to the middle of the dancefloor with more people pairing themselves as a pianist started playing some keys on a grand piano to get the waltz started. Soon an accordion and flute joined in.

Being a gentleman, Damian carefully guided her left hand onto his shoulder. His left hand stayed carefully on her back, as his right took her hand in his and started turning them both. Swaying to the music, the two stared into each other, or that was what Damian dreamt was going on as they both got lost to the music. He continues leading her into the waltz, but part of him believed his soul had been lifted from his body and there was no other person in the room. It was just them, dancing.

Not being able to contain his own curiosity Damian cleared his throat, “I must ask, do I know you by any chance? You seem awfully familiar.” His partner looked away for a moment but continue to sway with him to the music. She looked back at him and gave him a faint smile before nodding her head lightly to the sides. “Perhaps I might have seen you at a different gala?” Damian continued.

“Very unlikely, this is actually my first time coming to an event like this.” She answered softly to him.

“Then can I ask for your name?”

“I believe the idea of a masquerade is that you don’t ask for one’s identity. It keeps everyone in a “blissful mystery”, or so I’m told.” She chuckled lightly like she had some inside joke

“You are actually correct, my apologies.” Damian told her as he continued to lead her in circles in the ballroom. They dance for almost half an hour, not speaking to each other but being content in one another’s presence. As the dance continue, Damian had whispered into her ear if she like to go out to the balcony and be away from the crowd, she nodded with a faint smile.

As they exited the dancefloor a cool soft summer breeze blew around them, making the mysterious woman’s long hair sway in rhythm. She reaches out and grabs onto the rail looking down to the busy streets of Gotham, while Damian discreetly admired her from behind. He didn’t know what had gotten to him, he thought he would never find interest in any other woman besides Raven. Part of him feared that he may be forgetting about her or the feelings he believed he had been because of his teenage hormones when Raven had left. Damian took his hand out from his pants pocket and looked at the ring he promised to care for.

“It’s beautiful.”

Damian looked up to find his mysterious woman looking up to the night sky, smiling as she seems to count the countless stars scattered across.

“It is.” Damian answered as he put the ring back into his pocket. “If I may be so bold to ask, why did you come to this event? Are you here for business or-”

The woman in front of him chuckled lightly, before turning to face him. Leaning against the rail, she answered him. “You ask allot of questions… Mr. Wayne.”

“How did-”

“It’s not hard to distinguish you in a masked crowd, given to the fact I’ve seen you wear a similar mask countless nights before.” She turned her head to the side; her left hand reaches the edges of her mask as she slowly pulled it off her head. She kept her eyes looking down, but already Damian’s heart was beating rapidly inside his chest. He continues to look awestruck as she slowly brought her eyes up, looking right into his very soul. Her eyes were amethyst. “Hello Damian.”

A fly could just fly straight into his gaping mouth as Damian continue to stare. He tried counting the countless time he wished for her return. Hoping and praying to whatever god there was to allow him and see her again. The one girl in this world to ever hold his heart in her hand. Finally, his mind was able to wrap around the news and he couldn’t contain himself anymore. “Raven!”

Damian practically sprinted the last two steps to engulf Raven into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her body tightly, making sure this was all real. She gave out a surprised squeaked as her own hands hugged him back. “It’s really is you? Raven Roth you are really here? I am not dreaming?”

“Yes. It’s me. Damian there’s so much I need to tell you and I don’t know where to start-” Damian didn’t let her finish for his lips captured hers. He knew this wasn’t the way to reunite with his friend but the part of him that yearned for her for many years took over his control. He was madly in love with her. Raven was an empath after all, surely, she would be able to read all his thoughts as he continues expressing his feelings for her through this kiss. Never in his life Damian had felt like this; helpless and vulnerable. Yet at the same time that didn’t feel as a bad thing for Raven completed him in a way that made him stronger.

Damian could hear Raven gasping for breath in between kiss. He slowly pulled away and allowed to fill her lungs with air. He felt guilt start to consume him as he realized she may not feel the same towards him. Still having his arms around her said with a low voice, “I couldn’t wait. I am sorry, but I needed you to know how I feel about you. Raven, I love you.”

“Damian.” Raven answered softly as her hands slid up his chest and she looked up into his eyes, “One of the reasons I had to leave was because my father had figured out one of my weaknesses. He found out that I fallen in love with someone I would give my life to protect. It’s you Damian Wayne. I love you too.”

Her warm small hands came up to cradle his face and she slowly pulled him closer to lightly kiss him. They pulled away slowly, Damian could only smile warmly down at her and he reached into his pockets for her ring. “I believe I can finally return this to you.” He looked up to find Raven, had her brow raised at him. Giving him a questioning look. “What?”

“I can’t believe you have it with you, I would assume it would stay in some drawer or a box in your home.” Raven snorted.

“I did promise I guard it with my life, I can’t guard the ring if it’s not near me at all times.” Damian said proudly as he slipped the black ring onto Raven’s finger. “Perfect fit.” He whispered, something about placing the ring onto her finger made it seem like he was branding her. Raven looked up at him, she still had those beautiful amethyst eyes that held galaxies in them, she may look a little different now with fair skin and black hair as night; but she was still his Raven. His Raven.

Damian wanted to show her how much he aged into a man; show her he wasn’t the young teenager she had said goodbye seven years ago. Damian reached up slowly to remove his black domino mask. Just when he was about to grab onto the edge and pull it off, he was stopped by Raven’s hand holding his.

“No. Keep it on. I don’t want anyone finding out I’m with Damian Wayne.” Raven let go of his hand, she trailed the tip of her finger down his chest, before poking where his heart was. “I want to be a little selfish tonight and keep you all to myself.” She reached up and give him a gentle peck on his cheek.

“I am all yours, my love.”

-- -- -- --

A/N: Wowzers can’t believe how long this took me to write. You wouldn’t believe how much I rewrote and rewrote this prompt countless times till I was able to pick one idea that best fitted with what I wanted to portray. I have another requested prompt asking about their first date, so that will be the next one you will read by me. After finishing the requests I will get back to finishing “First Impressions” and updating “Under an Autumn Moonlight”. After that I am gonna try my hand and share with you the first chapters for one of my Damirae longer fics I have planned. Hope you are excited as I am to share this story with you all.

Thank you so much for readying, till next time!

~ S.Rose

#damirae

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black-streak · 5 years ago

Text

Waiting for the Worms- Goodbye Cruel World

Part 22

Second to last chapter. The last chapter is almost going to be more like an epilogue, by the way. I fit... A lot into this? It feels like a lot even though it mostly stays all in one room in pretty much one continuous scene. Anyways, it's almost the end, my friends.

CLOSED LIST of wonderful people: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @emjrabbitwolf @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

"You are no longer permitted to leave the house," Damian huffed, crossing his arms and staring Mari down.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Every time you leave, you come back with even more strangers. You are obviously incapable of going out on your own without collecting strays."

"I don't know, you seem to enjoy all our guests so far," Marinette answered, ruffling the boy's hair before picking him up onto her hip and wondering over to the couch.

Dick dropped into the seat across from them, observing the way she coddled the boy settled onto her chest. Her eyes stayed glued to Damian, tracing fingers through his hair as Jason sat beside her, arm thrown over her shoulders. The rest of the team had dispersed, staying within the city despite the urge to travel, not comfortable leaving the two completely, though respecting their need for privacy in these times.

Tim stood across the room, carefully blank, but everyone in the room could tell he felt unsure which side he belonged on more. Closer to the man who acted as his older brother despite the distance or the two teens who took him in and provided him shelter as though he were their own.

"So. You're the soulmate who toyed with me all those years ago," Dick broke the silence, faulty irritation maring his expression.

"Oh don't act like you were oh so sure of my having one," Jason cut in, smirk inching across his face.

"I told you, you acted off sometimes! I even suggested it wasn't you really in there," he perked up at the easy response.

"Suggested, but never truly caught on enough to say for sure," Mari responded now.

Here, Dick narrowed in on her once more, "You're the one who altered my suit, weren't you?"

"Might have done."

"And adjusted my equipment?"

"Guilty."

"The haircut?!"

"That one was me actually. That mullet was burning my eyes," Jason admitted.

"And… saving Tim?" He asked with heavy, guilt ridden eyes, catching the yet silent teen's attention at the focus lying on him instead of the events surrounding his capture.

"Both," they answered together.

"I can't thank you enough for looking out for him. Preventing his death. I can't say what I would've done had Bruce gotten another Robin killed that way," Dick looked down at his clenched fists, his past fights over his successors with Bruce flashing into all of their minds. There was never meant to be a second Robin. Now one had died and another came close. "I'm sorry, you know. I should've been there for you. For both of you. I probably couldn't have stopped you from helping. From taking the title. But I could've done more, been there for you when you needed it. Been a better brother."

"It wasn't your responsibility to look out for us."

"Excuse me?"

"It would've been nice to be closer, but you had no duty to us. You never adopted us or asked to have your retired position given away. I won't hold it against you for not playing house with some kid who took your place when Bruce kicked you out."

"But I-"

"Act too much like a martyr. Come back apologizing for things you weren't responsible for. Seriously, it's fine. You weren't a thought in my mind when I went after Tim, over there. I just refused to watch someone else follow our fate. You have no place in this mess, beyond having some similar skeletons in your closet."

His fists loosened and his pupils widened, glinting in a watery haze, "No place in this? Jason, you can't think I-" Mari cut him off now.

"That isn't to say we wouldn't want you to stick around and find a place. Just that you shouldn't hold guilt over what happened to us. Your reactions and emotions held no merit in our death. You need to let this go. It wasn't your fault."

A smile lit his face, a perplexed little thing, as though he couldn't quite grasp the concept of not being responsible for the shortcomings of his adoptive father. He opened up his mouth as though to correct them, only for the door to open just then, an older man entering the home.

"Master Jason has become quite wise in his time away, has he not?"

Jason was the first to react, removing himself from the couch and meeting the man halfway to pull Alfred into a much needed hug. As the two embraced, Mari nudged Damian up to stand and led the way over. The two men seperated and turned towards them, Alfred appraising her with warm, knowing eyes.

"Miss Marinette, what a pleasure to see you in your own body."

Letting out a bark of laughter, she lurched forward into a hug of her own before turning to gesture her boy closer, "Alfred, this is Damian. We came to be family before our escape," she picked her words with care, knowing he would understand her meaning without making it too easy for the other two in the room. Likely, the little bird in the room would figure it out without the added help.

The elderly butler introduced himself to Damian, taking the distrustful look and tense posture in stride as the kid took his hand carefully for a small handshake. He, however, did cut his eyes back to Marinette afterwards, a question in his eyes that she offered a shrug to. She couldn't answer with complete certainty, but knew Alfred saw the possibility of the kid's parentage. It helped that he already knew she had spent years in close proximity to Talia, explaining how this could come to fruition.

Damian took the moment to grab onto Jason's hand and tug slightly, letting his grip on Mari fall away as he was brought back towards the living room where the other two still watched, though Dick had stood up and now made his way over to offer his own greeting.

Marinette took this time to speak with Tim, who stayed quiet and still until now, "Tim?" His shoulders tensed in an aborted jump, "Would you like some time alone with Alfred?"

His eyes bore into her, studying her as though for ulterior motives, unsure what to make of the offer. She couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

"You saw him nearly everyday for two years. Your main caretaker and likely only human contact as a civilian that was consistent. To go from that to zero contact for weeks on end… surely that must be quite the adjustment. I can keep the rest occupied for now if you'd like."

His gaze stayed weary for only a second before gratitude leaked in, nodding once, "If you wouldn't mind."

"Of course. Go ahead, dear, I'll keep Richard from trying to hover and butt in," she smiled, ushering him forward right as Dick joined Jason back in the living room and Alfred made way to the kitchen, ever knowing exactly where he was needed. The layout may be open, but the position of the furniture and distance gave the two some privacy for the time being.

"Damian, was it?" Dick began as they settled into their seats once more.

"Yes."

"How old are you?"

"Why do you ask?" Dami retorted.

Dick's surprised look told them that Barbara had not felt the need to inform him of where the boy came from, if she even bothered to mention the child at all.

"Just curious is all. I would like to know who got so close with Jason and his soulmate."

"Marinette is more than just his soulmate, she's her own person," he growled, tensing up only for Jason to wrap his arms about him in a comforting gesture.

Dick immediately backtracked, "I didn't mean to imply otherwise. You're absolutely right and I'm sorry for implying anything else."

Damian glared before turning to look up at Jason, "Who is he, again?"

"That's Dick, my… older brother. So kind of like your uncle," Jason laughed at the kid's sour expression.

…

Over half an hour passed before Alfred and Tim made their way back into the living room, the four already present taking the time to catch up and get to know each other. Damian took this moment to suggest putting on a movie, which Marinette whole heartedly seconded.

"Alright, anyone spending the night, get ready for bed! I'm not dragging you lot around half asleep and whiny," Jason announced, ushering Dami into his room as Tim headed for the bathroom and Marinette found herself grumbling on her way into the bedroom as Jason set up the movie.

Upon returning, all in pajamas with teeth brushed, Marinette settled into the arm of the couch, Tim sat to her side and Dick remained in the armchair as Damian went into the kitchen for water, The Chronicles of Narnia starting up on the screen. When Jason joined them, he drew Alfred into a hug, the man having already offered his goodnight and well wishes to the group, and showed him out. Having locked up and settled opposite to Mari, he let Damian pull himself up beside him only to drag the kid into his lap where he huffed in indignation, but snuggled closer.

No one fully bothered with the movie, softly speaking over it.

"Everything alright?" Mari whispered to Tim, the boy scooting closer to hear her better.

"Yeah, we just had a lot to talk about."

"Did it help?"

"... Yeah. He helped me work through some things. To make some decisions," he glanced at her, lips quirking up hesitantly.

"Oh? Anything I should know about?" She felt her own face lilt up with mirth and encouragement in equal parts.

Tim seemed to stop breathing for a second, wholy still and silent, before breaking into a slow, steady breath, "Marinette, would it be alright if I stayed here? Permanently?"

She looked over his head to meet Jason's gaze, his eyes soft and warm, nodding in agreement. She saw both Dick and Damian lean forward, eyes fixed on them in rapt attention, awaiting her answer. She felt certain Tim knew of this, but kept his eyes firmly on her. Settling further into her seat, she took his hand gently and nodded.

"Of course you can, Tim. This is your home now too. We'll have to make some adjustments, though," she saw his expression turn wary, "No way are you living on the couch."

At that, his face twisted into a relieved gratitude, shoulders slumping and body falling back into the cushions, "Thank you," he murmured.

She felt her eyes soften as she slowly drew him into a hug, leaving room to escape, "Welcome to the family, Birdy."

…

Within an hour of the movie's start, Tim fell asleep, slumped against Marinette, where she wrapped her arms carefully around him, almost completely out herself.

"I'm glad he has you guys. I would've taken him with me when he first showed up, but let's be honest. I'm hardly equipped to take care of myself. At least there, he had Alfred," Dick spoke in hushed tones, taking in how the two almost cuddled together, how the small child, Damian, curled up against Jason's chest in a sleepy daze of his own. How they made a makeshift family unit. He couldn't help the pained twitch to his smile at their easy love for each other, "He's in good hands here. You make a much better older brother than I did."

"Don't give me that bullshit," Jason half sneered, eyes narrowed, "You did your best. Don't think I haven't noticed what you did for him. Went out of your way quite a few times. For all of us, whether you needed to or not. And this better not be goodbye either. I'm fed up with losing people. You're ugly mug better make a regular appearance around us or I'll never forgive you," Jason gave a cruel smirk, knowing Dick will see the sincerity of it despite this. He couldn't help but enjoy the return of their old antagonistic relationship.

An appreciative little smile spread over Dick's face as he stood up, the movie having ended already. He followed as Jason lifted Dami and made way to deposit the boy into his bed for the night.

"Yeah… I suppose I could visit every now and then."

Stopping in front of the other two on the couch, he stared down at them for a moment, unsure how to move them. Mari took that moment to open her eyes, blinking blearily at them. They carefully maneuvered Tim up into Jason's arms so that she could stand up, only for her to tug them towards the bedroom where she made him place Tim into the bed, following him back out to say goodbye to Dick.

"He sleeps with us tonight? Poor birdy is touch starved," she sleepily asked, receiving a fake sigh of exasperation and agreeance.

They then watched as Damian snuck out of his own room and went into theirs as well.

"They're going to take over our room at this rate," he spoke without an ounce of regret. She only shrugged in acknowledgment.

At the front door, Dick tugged Marinette into an easy hug, wishing her a goodnight and to get some rest. Turning, he froze before dragging Jason into a tight, crushing hug, "I'm so happy you're okay, Jay. I missed you so damn much."

"Yeah. I missed you too," Jason hovered only to hug him back, face ducking into his shoulder. They pulled back and offered each other small, hopeful smiles before offering one last goodbye. And then Dick was gone.

Door locked, the two turned to each other, reaching out for the other's hand simultaneously. Their eyes met and without another word, they headed to bed, where the rest of their little family awaited them.

#maribat #jasonette #ml x dc #WFTW #part 22 #so close

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voodoochili · 4 years ago

Text

My 75 Favorite Albums of 2020

Every year produces excellent music and 2020 was no exception. The exceptional thing about this year, though, is the loss of livelihood so many musicians suffered as a result of the pandemic. To better celebrate all I’ve listened to and loved this year, I’ve expanded my albums list from 50 to 75 albums and included a highlight track from each in the Spotify playlist below. If you like what you hear, why not throw the artist a few dollars on Bandcamp?

Check the Spotify playlist HERE.

Without further ado, my favorite albums of 2020. Happy New Year, and happy listening!

10. Playboi Carti - Whole Lotta Red: Carti’s long-awaited opus has only been out for a week, which is probably not a long enough time to give an album as sprawling and surprising as this one a full critical evaluation. But I do know when I’m hearing something that’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard: this album rearranges hip-hop at the molecular level.

Whole Lotta Red is overstuffed with invention, the glitchy, expansive production giving Carti ample opportunity to glom onto the contours of the beat and experiment with his voice. That voice is the album’s main attraction: it squeaks, it squeals, it roars, it spits, it shudders, and organizes itself into irresistibly ignorant mantras (my current favorite is “Lamborghini parked outside, it’s purple like lean”).

Across its 24 tracks (which feels like too many, sure, but only the 5-minute long Kid Cudi-infected droner “Metamorphosis” overstays its welcome), Carti plays with listener expectations, annihilating rap songwriting conventions (why do you need verse-chorus structure if every line is a hook) as he defiantly proclaims his desire to be unlike anybody else. Though it bears some resemblance in sound and subject matter to Future’s Monster (and much of the production owes a debt to the work of Lil Uzi Vert’s favored Working Of Dying collective), Whole Lotta Red firmly establishes Carti as a totemic figure connecting mainstream and underground sounds.

9. BbyMutha - Muthaland: BbyMutha is a natural born spitter, armed with a drawly stutter-stepping flow that routinely annihilates unconventional instrumentals. She glows with supreme confidence and comfort in her own skin, especially when she’s dripping with disdain with those who’d dare refuse her the respect she deserves. A 25-track opus that earns every minute of its runtime, Muthaland is an engrossing immersion into Mutha’s world, balancing a fascination with the occult (“Sorry I don’t fuck with n****s who don’t fuck with Satan”) with grounding interjections from close friends and her four children. Boasting rockstar fantasies like “Heavy Metal,” bad girl anthems like “Nice Guy,” and dancefloor-ready jams like “Cocaine Catwalk,” Muthaland is a tour-de-force by one of rap’s singular voices, and if she’s really finished with music as she’s claimed (rappers never really retire, but Mutha has indicated she wants to focus full time on her Apothecary), the game will greatly miss her incisive punchlines and crudely empowering perspective.

8. Westerman - Your Hero Is Not Dead: In 2020, Mid-’80s sophistipop grew into one of my favorite comfort foods. Westerman’s Your Hero Is Not Dead struck me directly in the sophistipop sweet spot, evoking the attention-to-detail and synth-heavy craftsmanship of that era and pairing it with harmonic complexity and a piercing emotionalism that recalls his idol Neil Young. On songs like “Blue Comanche” and “The Line,” Westerman constructs tales as twisty as his melodies, economically exploring how people relate to each other at the beginning and end of romantic relationships. Westerman complements his tasteful palette of synth sounds with intricate and lyrical guitar playing, most notably on the sighing, gorgeous instrumental “Float Over,” which softly segues into the title track to end the album on a gently-rising high note.

7. WizKid - Made In Lagos: The focal point of the sub-Saharan Afrobeats renaissance, Lagos is having one of the most exciting musical moments of any city since Kingston in the early ‘70s. WizKid is one of the scene’s biggest stars, with an ability to combine the sonic tapestry of his hometown with Caribbean-influenced beats and vocal styles. Made In Lagos is a masterwork of sound design, bringing creamy bass, chicken-scratch speckles of guitar, tasteful interjections of saxophone and brass, and an intoxicating mix of acoustic and electronic percussion, all offered in service to an immaculate vibe that matches the album cover’s shiny, monochromatic color scheme. Made with lockdown in mind, the album eschews uptempo dancefloor workouts in favor of stress-relief and romance. WizKid plays the perfect host, tamping down his melodic flights of fancy and embracing a song-serving smoothness. He’s a warm and inviting presence throughout, laying out the red carpet for a cross-continental cast of collaborators like H.E.R., Skepta, Burna Boy, and Damian Marley. The result is a truly global pop masterpiece, capable of brightening even the dourest day of a miserable year.

6. Ka - Descendants of Cain: Firefighter by day and rapper/producer by night, Ka is a master of allusion. He organizes his thoughts into themed collections of metaphor, illustrating the bleak realities of street life with gnomic symbolism. On Descendants Of Cain, Ka’s strongest work to date, the enigmatic rapper expresses himself through a litany of biblical references, drawing parallels between ancient parables (he goes far deeper than the Cain/’caine double entendre that rappers have been using for decades) and the stark code of morality with which he lives his life. The 48-year-old hermit produced the project himself, creating an immersive sonic realm, crafting expansive, noir-ish backing tracks populated by late-night saxophones, sparkling pianos, and the occasional shot of sweeping strings. Once again, Ka’s music comes almost entirely without drums (certainly without “beats” in the traditional hip-hop sense–every once in a while, he adds an open hi-hat or a subdued shaker), the artist preferring to let his music swirl around his half-whispered words of wisdom. The album ends on a tearful, sentimental note with “I Love (Mimi, Moms, Kev),” in which the artist ditches the biblical lyrical conceit and expresses his love for his wife, his mom, and his best friend atop light percussion and a warm soul sample.

5. SAULT - Untitled (Rise): Rise is the second part of a diptych that SAULT recorded in response to the movement that exploded in the wake of George Floyd’s death. Black Is, the first part, is a great album (you’ll find it in the lower reaches of my 2020 list), but the mysterious UK collective fulfilled their immense potential with Rise, a propulsive, powerful, and danceable album that doubles as a thought-provoking examination of the nature of freedom and liberation. The album tackles weighty topics–police violence, fake-woke “allies,” protest, cultural appropriation–but handles them with an inspiring effervescence and a propulsion meant to usher right-thinking people into the streets. The music itself is an intoxicating marvel, combining elements from every trendy musical movement from the early ‘80s (post-disco, post-punk, house, hip-hop, whatever the hell ESG was) into a percussive and surprisingly cohesive cocktail. The album immediately makes its greatness known with its first four songs, one of the strongest opening runs of any album in recent memory: the swaggering, funky, keep-your-head-up anthem “Strong,” which features a drum solo from SAULT architect Inflo, the soaring, club-ready vamp “Fearless,” concept-establishing, string-heavy interlude “Rise,” and especially “I Just Want to Dance,” the best song ESG never wrote.

4. Fiona Apple - Fetch The Bolt Cutters: Fetch The Bolt Cutters arrived with the kind of universal acclaim that can make some people suspicious. The Pitchfork review got a lot of attention, not just for its perfect score but for its bold statement that “no music has ever sounded quite like it.”

That statement might’ve been slightly hyperbolic. Fetch The Bolt Cutters has the kind of propulsive left-hand piano figures, chest-thumping percussion, and impassioned vocal performances that we haven’t heard since...the last Fiona Apple album. But the album deserves its experimental reputation. These songs mess around with song structure and melody in ways that resemble avant-garde singers like Meredith Monk, use overlapping vocals that occasionally evoke the works of post-modern composers like Luciano Berio, and echoing modernist composers like Edgard Varese in the way she wrings pathos out of rhythmic elements.

Though Fetch might be a slight step down from The Idler Wheel, it’s an invigorating listen, packed with the soul-baring confessionals that only Fiona is capable of executing. Combining literary wordplay with plainspoken directness, Fiona forces the listener to confront her trauma and contemplate her diagnoses of patriarchal ills. The songs are uniformly excellent–especially opener “I Want You To Love Me,” the most “traditional” song on the record, and “Shameika,” a burrowing childhood rumination with a happy ending–but Fetch The Bolt Cutters stands out to me as a collection of amazing moments: when the jig-like “For Her” fades into an unforgettably painful cadence (“Good mornin’, good mornin’/You raped me in the same bed your daughter was born in”), Fiona’s ground-shaking vocal intensity at the end of “Newspaper,” her dogs howling over the outro of “Fetch The Bolt Cutters,” the winking repetition of the title phrase on “Ladies.” Her albums display more than enough ambition to forgive the long gestation periods, but hopefully we won’t have to wait another 8 years for Fiona to bare her soul once again.

3. Drakeo The Ruler - Thank You For Using GTL: Embroiled in a Kafkaesque legal saga that shines a light on the worst aspects of our horrendous justice system, Drakeo The Ruler spent more than three years wrongly incarcerated for a crime he not only did not commit, but for which he was acquitted (for more info on Drakeo’s ordeal, read Jeff Weiss). He’s now mercifully a free man, mostly due to the work of his lawyer, but at least partially because of publicity generated by Thank You For Using GTL. Recorded over the phone from prison during the height of the pandemic, it’s a miracle that an album created under such sub-optimal conditions sounds as excellent as it does, but credit producer JoogSzn–who not only supplied the creeping, head-nodding backing tracks but recorded Drakeo’s phoned-in vocals–and engineer MixedByNavin for the project’s astonishing fidelity. Drakeo and Joog spent hours on the phone to record the album, in the process paying thousands of dollars to GTL, the predatory telecom company of choice for the L.A. corrections system, whose mechanical interjections serve as a constant reminder of the injustice that made the album necessary. Of course, a good story is a good story, but that alone doesn’t get an album on 2020’s most prestigious Best Albums list (mine). It’s a classic rap album, perhaps the best ever released by an incarcerated rapper, and a thumb directly in the nose of the D.A. and the LAPD. The album is a lyrical marvel, packed with winding wordplay and outlandish flexes, as Mr. Mosley takes aim at 6ix9ine, cackles at sorry-ass Instagram haters, and sneers at American-made cars (“To be honest, a Hellcat isn’t a foreign”). Each song has a carefully considered concept, the rapper’s punchlines building upon one another to make an airtight case for his status as L.A.’s top dog. He contrasts his own whip-crashing lifestyle with flashy wannabes on “GTA VI” and “Backflip or Sumn,” mourns a favorite department store on “RIP Barneys,” and proves he still doesn’t rap beef on “Maestro’s Tension.” The album’s masterstroke comes with “Fictional,” the final track, in which Drakeo exposes the prosecution’s use of his lyrics as evidence in criminal proceedings as the farce it is: “It might sound real, but it’s fictional/I love that my imagination gets to you.” Drakeo’s story was a rare bright spot in 2020, and a rare one with a happy ending. Just last week, the rapper released Because Y’All Asked, a studio-recorded version of Thank You For Using GTL, giving the album’s songs the clarity they deserve. But I think I’ll mostly return to the original, which will live on as an excellent album and a vital document of post-George Floyd America.

2. Pa Salieu - Send Them to Coventry: Hailing from the middle of nowhere–or, more accurately city in the English Midlands only known in the states for its middling Premier League team–Gambian-British artist Pa Salieu served up the most distinctive, visceral, and daring rap debut of the year. His style fuses elements of grime, drill, afro-trap, dancehall, and the darker edges of U.S. hip-hop into a percussive slurry, injected with the urgency of his struggle to survive. The magic of the album comes from the way Pa’s fluid flows interact with the shimmering and foreboding production (Felix Joseph and Aod lead the cast of the project’s sound architects), which is perfectly suited for cold city nights. He slips effortlessly into the pocket, toe-tagging the beats with a combination of aggression and trance-like meditation and uttering casually powerful pronouncements (“I'd make a killa riddim offa any riddim/The grind can never stop 'til I'm wrapped in linen”) that make you believe he’s Britain’s next great rapper. Pa keeps the vibe consistent throughout, but the moments that stand out are the moments when he locks into an unbreakable groove over no-frills production, like on singles “Block Boy,” “Betty,” and “B***K.” The artist’s wry sense of humor and brash confidence keeps the album from feeling bleak, but Send Them To Coventry wisely ends on “Energy,” a warm and bright ode to keeping your creative spark safe from the prying forces of fame and fortune.

1. Kassa Overall - I Think I’m Good: “I think I’m good”–a phrase that’s ran through my head throughout this shitstorm of a year. Sure, I postponed a wedding, cancelled trips, and saw my friends and family much less often than I would like, but I count myself among the lucky ones. Still breathing, still sane. Though it was recorded and released before the pandemic started, Kassa Overall’s I Think I’m Good became a lodestar of sorts for me. It’s a brilliantly introspective and deeply personal album about existing in enclosed spaces–whether a jail cell, an NYC subway car, or the inescapable prison of your own body.

Kassa Overall made his name as a jazz drummer, touring with icons like Geri Allen, but his solo music incorporates elements of hip-hop, classical, and trap to create a wholly original milieu. The album features contributions from over 30 accomplished voices, ranging from luminary Vijay Iyer, to Kassa’s saxophonist brother Carlos Overall, to virtuosic pianist Sullivan Fortner, to venerated activist Angela Davis. But all the disparate elements come together in service of Kassa’s deeply personal and engrossing vision.

Taking partial inspiration from Kassa’s struggle with manic depression, the music fluctuates between meditative calm and unbearable tension, mimicking the patter of an unquiet mind. Album opener “Visible Walls,” is a mesmerizing prayer for salvation soundtracked by fluttering harps, piercing woodwinds, and heartbeat percussion. “Find Me” buries a plea for help within a cacophony of sampled voices and rattling piano notes. Fortner’s piano guides us through the hauntingly devastating “Halfway House” and the Chopin-indebted “Darkness In Mind,” each highlighting a different stage of grief (despair and acceptance, respectively). The arc of I Think I’m Good concludes with the hopeful “Got Me A Plan” and “Was She Happy (For Geri Allen),” a Vijay Iyer-assisted tribute to his late friend and mentor.

It’s ironic that an album that so deeply explores the feeling of isolation vibrates with such a collaborative spirit. I Think I’m Good feels like an answered prayer–a community coming together to check on a beloved friend who’s gone through a tough time: “You good, man?” “I think so.”

Here’s the rest of my list.

11. Yves Tumor - Heaven To A Tortured Mind 12. Shackleton & Waclaw Zimpel - Primal Forms 13. Bob Dylan - Rough & Rowdy Ways 14. Duval Timothy - Help 15. Lil Uzi Vert - Eternal Atake 16. Moodymann - Taken Away 17. Secret Drum Band - Chuva 18. J Hus - Big Conspiracy 19. Headie One & Fred Again - GANG 20. Tiwa Savage - Celia 21. Andras - Joyful 22. Bill Callahan - Gold Record 23. King Von - Welcome To O’Block 24. Flo Milli - Ho, Why Is You Here? 25. Chubby & The Gang - Speed Kills 26. Madeline Kenney - Sucker’s Lunch 27. Empty Country - Empty Country 28. Smino - She Already Decided 29. Destroyer - Have We Met 30. Yves Jarvis - Sundry Rock Song Stock 31. Ela Minus - Acts Of Rebellion 32. Creeper - Sex, Death & The Infinite Void 33. Alabaster DePlume - To Cy & Lee: Instrumentals, Vol. 1 34. Good Sad Happy Bad - Shades 35. The 1975 - Notes On a Conditional Form 36. Kate NV - Room For The Moon 37. $ilkmoney - Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 38. Eddie Chacon - Pleasure, Joy and Happiness 39. Kenny Segal & Serengeti - Ajai 40. Bad Bunny - YHLQMDLG 41. Kahlil Blu - DOG 42. Califone - Echo Mine 43. Boldy James - The Price of Tea in China/Manger On McNichols/The Versace Tape 44. Bufiman - Albumsi 45. Moses Boyd - Dark Matter 46. Thanya Iyer - KIND 47. Jyoti - Mama You Can Bet! 48. Obongjayar - Which Way Is Forward? 49. Rio Da Yung OG - City On My Back 50. Young Jesus - Welcome To Conceptual Beach 51. Owen Pallett - Island 52. Oceanator - Things I Never Said 53. Shootergang Kony - Red Paint Reverend 54. Shabason, Krgovich & Harris - Philadelphia 55. Six Organs of Admittance - Companion Rises 56. Lido Pimienta - Miss Colombia 57. Kelly Lee Owens - Inner Song 58. Polo G - The GOAT 59. Actress - Karma & Desire 60. Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher 61. Porridge Radio - Every Bad 62. Yg Teck - Eyes Won’t Close 63. Mozzy - Beyond Bulletproof 64. Ratboys - Printer’s Devil 65. R.A.P. Ferreira - Purple Moonlight Pages 66. Ulver - Flowers of Evil 67. Rina Sawayama - SAWAYAMA 68. SAULT - Untitled (Black Is) 69. Ezra Feinberg - Recumbent Speech 70. Davido - A Better Time 71. Hailu Mergia - Yene Mircha 72. HAIM - Women In Music Pt. III 73. Half Waif - The Caretaker 74. Key Glock - Yellow Tape 75. KeiyAa - Forever Your Girl

#kassa overall #pa salieu #drakeo the ruler #fiona apple #sault #ka #wizkid #westerman #playboi carti #bbymutha

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chromium7sky · 5 years ago

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The Devil wears Armani | chapter 8

A/n: lol resume the fashionista au yay. By the way, it was actually after this part https://xaphrin.tumblr.com/post/189956299511/chromium7sky-asked-for-some-smut-for-her-fic-the by @xaphrin

Please follow #damirae , #devil wears Armani , and #fashionista au tag and enjoy!! ❤️❤️

It's been a while Jon haven't seen his best friend since hes working at daily planet at metropolis. He did send message with him but he seem so busy.

Then what puzzled him is Damian in a sudden asked him how to woo a girl. Woo? Who the hell use that word in this era? Jon chuckled. Ohh, Damian has found a girl!

It's lunch time and he already told to his superior that he's going back early. He use this free time to pay a visit to Damian for a talk. 'Oh, What a good friend he is.' He compliment himself.

As he walk into the building, he walk towards the receptionist. "Hi, Is Mr Wayne in his office?"

"Mr. Wayne currently having meeting but I think it would be over soon." The receptionist answered him.

"Oh? It's okay, I'll just go up there and wait for him." Jon smiled as he went to the elevator.

"But sir... He-" before the receptionist finish her words Jon has already step into the elevator. He press the button that lead to the top floor, to Damian's office.

-------

Raven were tidy up the sample of colors including her tools on wooden desk. She straight up her blouse and jacket, try not to look obvious including her braid.

As she's busying herself, Damian with shirts without his blazer stood behind her and kiss her nape which makes she gasped.

"Damian..." She eyed on him as his hand rested on her waist, facing her.

"What?" He smirked. "Don't tell me you want another?"

Heat start to creep on her cheeks as she remember what happen before. She looked away and nervously tug her loosen hair behind her ear. "Well, I should probably going."

"Ah..." Damian smiled then caress her cheek. He gives is a quick kiss on it then her lips. "Don't get lost, alright?" He teasing her.

Raven blushed then realise his word, she puffed her cheeks. " I'm not a kid, Wayne."

Damian scoffed. " I know." Then he kissed her forehead.

Raven take one last look at him then she walked out from his office.

As she walked out, Damian sighed, feeling full and stupidly happy humming towards his desk to continue his As he looked at the file beside his computer, he saw something.

Her necklace. Must be she forget about it. Damian close his eyes and smiled. "Guess I have to see her again."

---

Raven walked down the alley toward the elevator then she suddenly stop. She realise Her neck felt lighter than before, so she put her hand where it used to be.

Her necklace wasn't with her. She begin to panic and tried to find it in her tool bag.

"Who knows it was so good that you tend to forgot your necklace?"

Raven turn around as she heard a voice.

Damian smirked as he stood behind her with her necklace in his hand.

Raven sighed in relief then walk towards him. " I thought I've lost it." She bit her lips.

"Come here. Let me put it on you."Damian beckon her to come closer. She followed.

As Raven stand closer to him, Damian open the lock of the necklace and put it around her neck.

"Thank you." Raven sheepishly gratitude as her cheek stained with rosy tint.

"Don't I have a reward?"

"Reward?" She absent minded repeat his word.

"For returning your necklace?" He got closer.

Raven bit her lips as she thinking.

Damian smiled as his hand touched her waist bringing them closer.

Raven slowly reached his face with her hands and chastely brushes her lips with his. "Dinner."

"Oh?"

"After I finished your suit, we'll have dinner at my place." She wet her lips.

Damian stared at her then give a quick peck on her lips. " Deal."

----

He can't believe what his saw. Jon was at hidden corner besides the elevator. He witness his grumpy best friend just having a moment with a girl!

Last time he remember when Dami talk about girl is when they were in the same dorm at university. He said that, he might not see her again as soon as he went to the Middle East.

Jon did advice him to find the girl, ask her out , let her know his feeling at least before it's too late but the last thing remember as he send Dami to airport, Dami has her notebook at the lecture hall. He looks solemn though he tries to deny it.

After he got accepted into Daily Planet, a place where both his parents used to work, he started to keep in touch with Wayne Enterprise community project by constantly interview Damian which always end up with no comment whenever he tried to ask about finding new girl.

On a certain occassion, he's in fashion section as he cover one of his colleague who went on maternal leave.

Jon protest at first because it's not his in his 'field' to write fashion inspire but editor said it's for his experience. Jon of course has to accept it to broaden his style in writing.

At some point he has been invited to a fashion competition to write an article about the latest issue about how fashion inspired by innovation based on common problem.

Lenore collection clothline gained his interest as it involved with winter season apparels. Coincidence, the collection has gaining favors from the judges and won the award and Jon were eager to write about it.

By that time, He meet the mysterious designer, Raven, as she collaborate with a newly establish company, AMZ.

Shortly after he wrote about the winning winter apparel collection, Damian contact him about the article.

"Hey, Dami! Haven't heard you since I've interview about Wayne's community project! How are you?" Jon excited as he answer his call.

"Miserable as always."

"About being in middle east?"

"About mother always asking who's the one drawing me on the notebook." Jon can hear Dami's heavy sigh.

"You should be lucky to have secret admirer who has same talent as yours."

"There's a sketch of me, nude on the page."

"... Well, she tried." Jon tried to hold his laughed.

"Anyway, since I'm reading your article about the winner for Fashion award, do you have any information about Raven?"

"As far as I know, she has associate with the company called AMZ." As Jon read his interview before.

"A newly operated company."

"Yeah." As Jon skimming the article. " You are interested in the clothing apparel design right? Perhaps thought for a collab?" His voice slightly higher as he excited.

"It's for the refugee and besides, it's someone from the same class with me."

"Let me guess, fashion drawing?"

It was along pause but Damian make a "hm" confirmation noise.

"Was it that girl?"

Another silent on the phone.

"I knew it!!!" Jon shouted.

"You're not helping, Jon." Damian grumbled.

"And I fucking hate you."

Jon making sound of victory as he figured out Damian's mysterious girl during their study time.

"Don't EVER tell Maya and Colin about this." Damian give a fair warning.

"I don't know, maybe it'll spill accidentally." Jon teasing him.

"I swear I --" the line cut off. Jon looked at the screen then shrugged.

Now, he has seen the girl and he recognise her. Rachel Roth, The head of AMZ company also speculated to be the mysterious rising star designer, Raven.

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kawaiijellymonster · 4 years ago

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So I’ve got a note in my notes app called “Fanfic lines that should be in a hall of fame” and it’s gotten pretty long so I figure I’ll toss it on here so yall can enjoy it, most of them are: mha, zukka, miraculous ladybug, harry potter, and I think one is from a comment on a hannibal amv, But here you go:

Stain sold papers because he just had an aura about him that drew people in, like people who slow down to look at car crashes.

“The Rumor Come Out: Does Todoroki Shoto is Gay?”

Izuku spent the next week going to his normal martial arts classes, studying, and drinking gallons of coffee. Not healthy but he could deal with it. His body was never meant to be permanent.

So no one was watching when Mei placed her forehead against his, breath fanning across his face as she spoke. "Wake up Loki… the world needs you."

“No probs ‘lil listener!” Hizashi said, striking a dramatic pose. “I’ll be your DJ all through the night, bringin’ you such rockin’ hits as safety, security and sweet dreams!”

“This is stupid! Screw the waiting and screw these stupid butterflies. They're not paying rent, the little shits--”

Experimenting with unstable genetic mutant abominations is more of an art than a science, really."

Several looks pass across both their faces. “No flying for a month,” Sirius declares. That sucks, actually. But he’s also a hundred percent certain he can get them to cave on that in two weeks tops. “Okay. Is that for the breaking into the Ministry, destroying the Department of Mysteries, making a bargain with Voldemort, or bringing all my friends with me?” “It’s for recklessly endangering your own life again,” Remus says, “and while the punishment very much doesn’t fit the crime, we’re a bit at a loss for what else to do.” “It wasn’t reckless!” he protests. “We had a plan and everything, and we even brought an adult! An adult Order member! Also what else were we supposed to do, let Snape die?” Sirius takes a deep breath, but Remus steps on his foot before he can put it in his mouth. “Which is why you’re only getting flying privileges taken away and not thrown in a cell in Azkaban for our sanity and your safety.” As if any cell could hold him. “I accept your terms.”

“Who’s Theophania?” Sirius asks. Harry hesitates. Perhaps bringing her up was his smartest decision, strategically speaking. “If I tell you you’re not allowed to throw me in Azkaban. Or ground me.” “This isn’t a negotiation,” Sirius repeats. If Blaise has taught him anything, it’s that everything is a negotiation. “She’s a friend.” “And?” Sirius repeats. Remus suddenly grabs onto Sirius’s shoulder, “Wait. Petrifying - during your second year - is Theophania - she’s not the basilisk.” “No, they killed it,” Sirius says automatically. Harry remains silent. “Harry!” He rubs his nose. “It turns out I’m not that good at killing things. Unkilling things, however? My specialty.”

“It’s okay,” Nanaia says, “you don’t know. What do you do when you don’t know something?” “Try something you do know and hope it doesn’t make everything worse?” For some reason, Horace looks sad at that answer, and Dumbledore shifts from one foot to the other. “No,” she says, “you ask for help.” Oh.

“It’ll piss off your son,” he answers bluntly. “Fuck that kid,” Riddle Sr. says

“You played me!” “Like a cheap kazoo”

Batman sighed, before speaking in a voice that was so unlike his usual growl that most of the other League members almost fell out of their chairs. Diana and Clark seemed to be used to it. “Damian,” he started. His voice was still deep, but a regular-deep, instead of I-just-swallowed-six-buckets-of-gravel deep.

“She loved James too,” she assures, and the confidence she says that with allows him to breathe, like someone has let go of his lungs. “It is possible to love more than one person at the same time. She loved your father with the type of love that’s – that was like a shooting star, burning and bright and touching everyone around them. Her love for Severus was different, and in the end it wasn’t the type of love either of them could handle.”

You’re better at it now then many people are after leaving a full apprenticeship, and you’ve only had a year of lessons a couple of times a week instead of years of intensive study. Do you know why that is?” “Luck?” he offers weakly. For some reason, he doesn’t like the direction this is going in. “No,” she says. “To be good at healing, the way you are, the way I am, you need a certain combination of things. Intelligence, power, control, but more than that. Stubbornness, a tricky balance of flexibility and inflexibility, and a constant, brutal assessment over your own skills. And something else.” “A propensity towards poor life choices?” he suggests. Poppy shakes her head, not taking the bait. “No. You have to care. You have to care about everyone, even people you dislike, and you have to care so much that if feels like it’s killing you, you have to care and that care has to hurt, until the only thing that hurts worse than caring is not caring. To be good at this, you have to let it hurt you.”

“You two shouldn’t have bothered dressing formally for Albus, he’s a bitch.” Harry doesn’t have any idea what’s going on, but he’s loving it.

“It was on the syllabus,” Zuko whispered conspiratorially to his mother. Sokka gasped. “You know I don’t read those!” “This is your own fault then.” “I like to be surprised. The procrastination keeps me humble.”

sometimes you remind me of the stars youre gorgeous and happy and can always brighten me on the darkest days and even when youre dampened you can guide me home

“imagine you are the only person who loves to play chess more than anything but nobody else in the world has ever heard about chess. and then you see a person holding a chessboard. it’s like your whole world was reborn”

"I wanted to be a stripper in middle school," Izuku said. Yup, that's a good cover.

What you’re asking for isn’t fair or right. You can’t ask a person for more than they’re willing to give

In Mei’s words, “You have about five minutes of ‘fuck that one thing in particular.’ Make them count.”

“Mei, let me introduce your new best friend. This is Momo. She has a Quirk that lets her make anything as long as she knows its composition inside and out. All you have to do is buy her dinner,“ Izuku said,

The cameras were looped. The bots were hacked. It was a good day to be a villain.

“None. The alarm never left the building.” “Really? Why is that?” “Mei finished first and decided to do you a favor. However, you've got the fire alarm just starting to go off and that's on a different circuit. Take a fast way down.” “Understood,” Hitoshi drawled. A moment later he was looking back at the crew. “Ladies and Frenchman. We take the express.”

Quinn is talking like that actually answers his question when it really, really doesn’t. “If you don’t start making sense, I’ll cry.”

“You’re one of my best students,” ze says. “You should understand the importance of timing. Speaking of, you’re late for your next class.”

Fuck, he totally is. “Thank you for that very confusing answer. I’ll think of you while crying myself to sleep.”

He’d wondered if that was what bravery was, to be quiet even when you were hurting so much you wanted to scream.

maybe bravery was also running screaming at the thing that nearly killed you, to keep it from killing someone else.

“Apologies are not difficult. Good apologies revolve around three basic points. One, I acknowledge what I did was wrong. Two, I regret that you were harmed. Three, this is how I plan to make sure it does not happen again. That’s all. Apologies are easy.” Then she’d glanced at them all again, evaluating. “And if you become very, very good at your job... they will be the absolute hardest thing you ever do.”

“Even though we’re a bunch of migraine-inducing hellions who are smart enough to know when something is a bad idea and stupid enough to still do it?”

“You’re like the nice china that Al only brings out for Christmas. Except Bruce just realised that I stole it, and chipped it. Maybe it’s time I give it back before I shatter all the pieces.”

she won’t co-parent my perfectly reasonable and well-behaved children.” Clark snorts. “Damian’s trying to stab Tim, right now.”

"Oh, my knight in shining armour. What would I do without you?" the teen droned, placing a dramatic hand on her head.

"I think you mean 'knight in shining leather', M'Lady. And without me, you would be left alone in this kingdom of lies.”

"It's a kingdom, alright. It'll topple sooner or later." "That's the spirit!" Adrien laughed.

Here’s something that a harbinger of tragedy would never find the courage to admit: there are moments in between the bitter self-hatred and the visceral, tangible consequences of your sins in which you almost think you’re worthy of forgiveness; of second chances; of a life beyond your greatest regrets. It’s a unique brand of pain,

“Go directly to horny jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.”

“You can’t wait around for him to be sorry,” Izuku says. He’s quiet now. This isn’t something that’s meant to be shouted. “Maybe he’ll never be sorry. Maybe he doesn’t know he did anything wrong, or he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter.” Cautiously he takes a step forward. “You can’t depend on the people who hurt you to be the ones to make it better, or it’s never going to get better. They’ll only disappoint you, or hurt you even worse, and then they’ll be gone and you’ll be waiting forever.”

Midoriya may be strong as hell, but that just means looking out for him has to be a team effort.

How would his new adoring fans react if they knew he raised a villain? He's no All-Might. His pillar's made of toothpicks, and it's not gonna take much to crack it.”

Tensei approaches Rei, “Okay, this plan is childish, unprofessional, and a discourtesy to this school's reputation. That being said, when do we nail the little twat?

Hinata is dead. Deceased. Passed away, laid to rest with a headstone that reads Here Lies Hinata Shouyou, Killed By A Wink And A Blown Kiss.

It’s dangerous to be a bad father when you have life insurance

#long post #fanfic lines that deserve to be in a hall of fame #fanfic #rambles #lol

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outspokens-ar · 5 years ago

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new york’s very own devin bahar was spotted on broadway street in louis vuitton ankle boots. your resemblance to bella hadid is unreal. according to tmz, you just had your twenty-third birthday bash. while living in nyc, you’ve been labeled as being a workaholic, but also loyal. i guess being a libra explains that. three things that would paint a better picture of you would be messy silk sheets, red wine, and staying in on a saturday night. ( female & she/her ) + ( katie, 21, she/her, est )

I’m incredibly excited for this to be back so, hello, hello, I’m Katie and here’s a long ramble about my bby bean Devin !

BACKGROUND ;

Devin I. Bahar was born to Isabella Corine Bahar, an ex-model who retired when she got married, becoming far more attracted to the ‘rich housewife, bow down to me’ aesthetic than continuing to work, and Damian Ethan Bahar, a lawyer coming from a long line of family lawyers that were known for working important, high-profile cases.

The relationship she holds with her mother is strained due to the woman’s materialistic nature and her goal of marrying off her daughter for as much money as possible. Her eyes are always on a far bigger and shinier prize, no matter how good her life already is.

Her relationship with her father, miraculously, is healthier than the one she has with her mother, simply because she has absolutely no relationship with the male. He took off when she was younger, cutting off all contact with his daughter without a second thought and he hadn’t bothered to make any effort to try and have a relationship with her.

In fact, when she had attempted to start some form of a relationship with him after she turned eighteen, he completely rejected her and wanted nothing to do with her and it ripped her apart far more than she was willing to admit to herself or anyone else.

Even now, she isn’t sure if the complete cut in contact is due to her mother or if it was simply because she didn’t live up to his expectations, didn’t deserve his love. Either way, she has attempted to move on from it after the rejection, even if she still has that small hole in her heart over it.

Due to how strained her relationship is with her mother, she moved out of the household the day she turned eighteen, having managed to save up enough money to support herself, wanting to get away from her as soon as possible. However, the woman is still her mother and she does still attempt to have some form of a relationship with her, even if it sends her into a horrible mindset whenever she has a conversation with the woman.

CAREER ;

She first began modeling at the age of 16 for a commercial project. She also starred in the "Swan Sittings" by Lesa Amoore, alongside actor Ben Barnes, before appearing in "Smoking Hot" by Holly Copeland. She also modeled for Hanna Hayes' F/W 2013 collection, alongside various other commercial projects, including campaign work for Chrome Hearts during 2013 and 2014.

She was then signed to IMG Models in 2014 and her career started shooting off from there.

She never actually planned to become a model, she actually wanted to be a photographer when she was younger and planned to go to school for it. When it came to the point where her focus turned towards college, she ended up heading towards visual arts, fashion design, and graphic design. Out of that, she discovered her passion for clothing and that’s what began her journey of designing clothes, a project she started along with her modelling career.

Since the start of her career, she has won over a dozen different awards that range over her multiple different career-interests. Managing to make a name for herself as a model and fashion designer.

As much as she enjoys photography, she puts most of her focus onto modelling and continuing to add to her own clothing line full-time. This leaves photography for her spare time as more of a hobby, however, she does step in to help other high-profile photographers from time-to-time.

PERSONALITY ;

She identifies as pansexual and has always been very open to sharing and talking about her sexuality.

Has always put her foot forward to support charities, organizations, and projects that support the entire LGBTQ community. Along with making sure to put her focus into other charities and organizations, she’s always been the type of person to ‘give back’ and to put her support into the things she believes in.

Devin suffers from intense depression and anxiety. For the most part, you would never know, she does well but, every once in a while she goes into a deep rut. She won’t talk to anyone, doesn’t want anyone around, generally entirely depressing and doesn’t want to bring other people down when it comes to it. It takes a lot of trust and a special type of friendship for her to allow you to be around during that time considering, most of the time, she’ll go completely off the grid the entire time. However, at the same time, she openly talks about her battle with depression and anxiety. She doesn’t ever want anyone to feel alone and she tries to involve herself with as many campaigns and projects that involve supporting those with mental illness as possible.

Along with this, she also has this back and forth with affection. She either hates being touched or gravitates towards it, it really depends on her mental state at the time and the general relationship she has with the other person involved. It can be difficult, one day she’ll be ready to give you a bear hug and the next day, she’ll shake if you try to shake her hand.

On a more positive note, she tries to be as positive as she can, to a reasonable extent. She never wants to take life far too seriously but, obviously, doesn’t want to take it for granted either. She’s the type of person you go to if you want clear-headed advice but you don’t want to be talked down to at the same time. Or if you want ridiculous jokes while also getting some kind of pep-talk.

Really the mom-friend but probably won’t ever admit to being the mom friend.

EXTRA INFORMATION LINKS ;

blog’s full navigation;

you can find links to just about everything here.

full about page;

if you want statistics, a more in-depth background, extra facts, and some other things, you can find a bunch of stuff here.

spotify playlist;

a mess but, ay’ check it out.

pinterest board;

a highkey mess but, ay’ check it out too.

connections page;

my page with connection ideas, some are specific but most are really used as templates for plotting. i’ll also update this with any taken-current connections.

wanted connections tag & side blog;

i’m also terrible with coming up ideas so, I have a sideblog to reblog things for wanted connections ( the top link will lead to the tag ), but it also has a tag for extra muse posts if you’re interested.

This is officially too long for an intro so, I’m gonna’ end it there, but if there’s anything else you’d like to know about my bby bean that wasn’t on here or on any of her other pages, absolutely hit me up because I can ramble for hours tbh. And if you’d like to plot, 100% slide into my dms and we can figure something out, or if we had a plot before the revamp and you want to keep it — let me know and we can keep rolling with it ! Also, feel free to hit me up here or on d*scord @ katie#7666 for plotting and such !

#wealthyhq:intro #as always; i make no promises any of this makes sense

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ladyshilya · 5 years ago

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DC’s Legends of Tomorrow: Zari, Not Zari

Let’s see what is going on with the collecting the Loom of Fate and why Zari is in Nate’s bed.

The episode starts with a crazy assassin killing people at the bar Charlie’s band plays at 3 days after Charlie joins the team. It turns out she is one of the Charlie’s sisters who is hunting her down.

Next we find Zari in Nate’s bed because she slept walked there. After she messed with Gideon’s mainframe. Zari runs into her brother and Charlie in the hallway. When Nate gives Zari back her night mask everyone starts to think they had sex. Of course Constantine shows up and starts flirting. This scene reminded me of why I have missed Legends.

Gideon lets Charlie know what happened to her former band mates. Sara thinks they need to come up with a plan before finding the other pieces of the Loom. Constantine doesn’t listen and uses a pendulum to find where the next piece of the Loom is. We see the crazy assassin sister Atropos visiting the the Coin Maker who is the other sister Lachesis. I had a feeling the Coin Makers was one of the sisters. Thanks to Astra looking in on John Lachesis knows how to track Charlie.

Charlie and Sara head off to British Columbia to find Constantine. Where Sara fangirls over Supernatural. They find Constantine and Atropos finds them. Atropos tries to convince Charlie to tell her where the Loom is but Sara jumps in to help. Constantine holds off Atropos while Sara and Charlie escape. Constantine shows up saying they should get out of there before Atropos realizes its not him bleeding out on the ground. We see the body of Constantine stabbed on the ground.

They run across dead members on the Supernatural crew. Charlie grabs the piece of the Loom which is another ring. This is when Atropos reveals that she has been John this whole time. Makes sense he was rather quite. Zombie members of the Supernatural crew are fighting Sara. Sara come up behind Atropos but Atropos shows her true form which kills. Atropos takes the Loom piece from Charlie. Since Ava brought the Waverider to them Atropos knows where to find the next piece.

Nate and Ava find Constantine who is still alive thanks to the herd he ate from the ground. Sara wake up and to help Charlie because apparently Sara didn’t die. Either being a Paragon saved her or Damian somehow managed to give her back her life. Atropos goes through the ship where she finds Behrad who is guard Zari on her Totem journey. Behrad lets Atropos take the ring but before she leaves he goes to attack her with a sword. Atropos tells Behrad he doesn’t belong there and takes out his fate cord and cuts it.

Sara goes after Atropos to stop her. Sara has Gideon open the doors to ship to kick Atropos off. Charlie comes in and cuts Atropos’s hand causing her to fly off the ship into the temporal zone and the rings to stay on the ship. When Zari wakes up from your vision quest they tell her Behrad is dead.

Zari saw a cat running through the ship the same Zari got turned into during Legends of Meow Meow. Behrad tells Zari to play video games with him to release some anger. When Zari starts playing she has flashes of playing video games and beats Behrad because she knows how to play. Zari tells Behrad how she feels like there is another person inside her. The Totem works for Zari as she throws out some wind. Nate and Behrad figure when they saved Hayworld saved the world it might have reset some things. they figure Zari had been one of the Legends.

Behrad convinces Zari to go on a psychic journey with the aid of some drugs. I kinda love how Behrad’s answers to things are drugs, video games and food. Zari agrees and when she gets into the place of their ancestors she finds the other Zari. Last season Zari finds out from current Zari her family is alive. Behrad is friends with Nate and a Legend. Last season Zari lets the current Zari know what happened. When Zari wakes from the journey is where she finds out her brother is dead.

Zari finds Constantine to make sure the Loom can bring back her brother. She also tells him that she will be by his side every second until they bring her brother back.

While all of this had been going on Mick was trying to connect with his daughter. Ava helps him by having him go back in time and make memories with Lita. They even come up with a story that Mick is getting visitation time because he is helping them take down criminals. Question since Mick didn’t find out about Lita until she was older how would he have known about her then? Mick visits Lita throughout her life, I super loved Lita dressed as Snart for Halloween. Mick give Lita the album of memories. Which might have worked but because Mick never stayed around all Lita remembers is him not being there. She never went to homecoming because she waited for Mick so she could say goodbye.

Really not okay with Behrad being dead he was starting to grow on me. I am wondering if they can bring him back since it seems he’s not suppose to be alive according to Atropos. I am also curious how Sara was able to survive seeing Atropos’s true form. I am happy Zari is has learned about what happened and I am curious how this will change things for her. I am really looking forward to rest of this season after seeing the mid season trailer. I do have a question why is there a Star Trek episode without Ray they couldn’t figure out how to do that one sooner.

Look like the team is heading to Hell next episode.

#legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow spoilers #cw legends of tomorrow #dc legends of tomorrow #lot spoilers

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