#Dami through Jon's eyes

[kk-killer]

Jonathan Kent POV (headcanon)

"they all wil say that Damian is capable of anything, at least he way more better than me. Damian's stronger, more intelligent, braver, cunning, persistent and confident by his nature. but i... i owe my powers to my great genes. there has never been a "strong" Jonathan Kent, but there has always been strong Damian Wayne."

[violent138]

Dick, answering Damian’s call: "Hey Dami, I'm sorry I'm almost done, I'll be there soon. You guys pick a movie?"

Damian: "We did. Out of curiousity, how would you feel if we also searched for a new apartment for you?"

Dick, rolling his eyes: "Okay, okay message received. I'm maybe ten minutes away, please don't burn my place down."

Dick, stringing up the bad guy: "Dami?"

Damian: "Jon and I found a really nice place by the water, pets are allowed too."

Dick, signing a note to stick on the guy: "Okay little wing that's pretty sweet, but I really-- what's that sound? Are those sirens? Damian?"

Dick: *sprints to his glider*

Jon, in the background: "It wasn't on purpose. Did you tell him that?"

Dick, covering his ear to listen better over the wind: "Sorry what? What wasn't on purpose? Why are you whispering?"

Damian: "It's technically Superman's fault."

Dick: "What? Give the phone to Jon."

Damian: "No--" *mild sounds of a scuffle* "--give it back!"

Jon: "Hey Dick. How are you?"

Dick: "What happened?"

Damian, muffled: "You think you're safe up there?! You're not--"

Jon: "So we were messing with your punching bag and Damian asked me how hard I could punch."

Dick: "Uh-huh." *squints as he sees his place in the distance*

Jon: "So I did it a little harder, and it kind of--"

Dick, on the opposite roof: "Went through the wall?"

Jon: "Yeah. What do we do? There's cops outside."

Dick: "Call a contractor maybe. On Bruce's dime."

Jon: "What?"

Dick: "Huh? Oh sorry. Fake an oven explosion. You were making popcorn."

Jon: "What? They're not going to buy that!"

Dick: "You got a better idea?"

Damian, barely audible: "How much popcorn?"

Dick, pinching the bridge of his nose:

[wondersinwaynemanor]

a mission with the Bats which involved their bestfriends.

everyone is in a circle before they can go their separate ways.

Dick, smiles, with a hair seemingly still in style as if the mission was a walk in a park: I would like to thank everyone who participated today. We wouldn't have completed this without each of our efforts.

the batkids rolls their eyes because Dick can be so extra, which just makes him grin.

Dick, spreads his arms: I just love this bonding of brotherhood.

everyone is silent until Steph bursts out laughing.

Cass brows furrow in confusion before she leans on Steph to join in laughing.

Duke, snickers: Sure.... Brotherhood.

Tim, shrieks: Brotherhood????

Kon's face turns crimson, standing close to Tim.

Tim and Kon, who just celebrated their anniversary last night somewhere in Greece.

Damian, scowls: What did you just say, Richard?

Jon, who was drinking water, nearly chokes.

Damian and Jon, who just started their relationship in the beginning of the month because finally Damian gave in to his feelings.

Jason, rolls his eyes some more: You are just embarrassing yourself, Dickface.

Roy, chuckles: Wow. Brotherhood at its finest.

Jason and Roy, who just moved in together last week.

Wally, face so red: Really, Dick?? Brothers??? Us??

Dick and Wally, who have been together before they even know it.

Dick, groans: I know, okay??? I just don't want to admit that my brothers are growing up!!

Jason: You are such a drama queen.

Duke: Maybe use another term next time, Dick?

Damian: Tt. I second that motion.

Jon, nods enthusiastically: Whatever Dami says!

Tim, yawns, leaning on Kon: How about we all go home and rest?

Kon, wraps his arm around Tim's waist: I better take Rob home.

Cass, nods: Indeed! Me and Steph. Go now.

Steph, holds her hand: We got a date planned. See ya!

the rest of the boys: WHAT????

Babs, through comms: Can we wrap this up, gentlemen? So I can sleep and you can sort out your feelings for each other.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 17

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: racist microagressions, boundary crossing, and people in positions of power being scum, cursing wc: 2.4k

A/N: chapter concept was suggested by @scared-reader 👻 so if you like it thank them for the inspiring ask in the comments! (and feel free to submit your own if you've got an idea for me, you never know what's going to set off the unhinged writing monster in my soul 😅 )

Chapter Selection

Damian was at my apartment again. He'd come over after school, and the look on his face suggested there was something weighing him down. I got him set up at the table to do his homework, knowing he wouldn't be ready to talk until he felt his responsibilities were complete, and ordered pizza. While he worked, I made my grandmother's brownies. 

An hour later we were sitting on the floor in front of my tv, eating pizza and brownies, drinking soda, and playing mindless video games. Between rounds, Damian finally spoke up; “... There's an art show for our parents at my school next week … Father couldn't make it last year, something came up at work.”

I frowned a bit; “That sucks! ... Well, I'm sure he'll make it this year, yeah?”

“... Probably not. It's a busy time of year for him...”

“That's not fair…”

“It is what it is.” On the surface he sounded nonchalant about it, but after months of getting to know each other I was starting to catch the subtleties of his mannerisms and tones. And when he said ‘it is what it is' I heard, clear as day, the ache of unexpressed sorrow; the kind of sorrow that makes you feel selfish and cruel for caring at all over something so seemingly trivial.

“... Well, I know I'm not a parent, but I am an adult in your life who loves … your art. Think they'd let me come?”

“... You want to come?” he didn't even try to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Of course, if you're ok with it. … I remember how disappointing it was when my parents didn't come to my after school stuff. … Felt like I was the only kid in the room without an adult gushing over my work. I knew they were proud of me, they were just busy, but … I wanted my interests to be their priority for just a few hours. It hurt, seeing everyone else's adults make time for them when mine couldn't, and I don't want you to have to go through that too. So if you're comfortable with it I would be honored to get to go to your art show!”

Damian blinked a few times, looking down into his lap, and nodded. “... Ok. … Yeah, you … you can come. … It's Friday after school, from 4-6.” His voice came out a bit sharper than usual, like he was fighting to get the words out at all.

I smiled gently, pulling out my phone. “It's going right in my calendar. Will you already be there?” He nodded. “Perfect, … can Jace come too, or should I take the bus?”

Damian considered for a minute. “.... I suppose Todd can come. … It would be difficult to use the city bus to get to my school…”

I nodded. “Thanks kiddo.”

He opened his mouth, frowning slightly; “... I … why do you keep calling me that?”

I cringed slightly; “Sorry Damian, I keep forgetting you don't like it. I like to give people affectionate nicknames, it’s sort of second nature at this point I guess. I'll do better, I promise.”

“... No, it … it's ok, you don't have to stop. … I'm still not Dami though.”

I grinned, nodding. “You got it, kiddo.” Right, only Jon gets to call him Dami.

He nodded once, smiling a little.

Tears filled my eyes. The lump in my throat made it incredibly difficult to speak, but I had to say something; he was staring up at me with those big, guarded eyes, waiting for my response. “... Damian, it's-”

“Perfect…” Jason's arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his chest.

Damian's section of the art show was filled with portraits of his family and friends. And right in the center, on one of the biggest canvases I'd seen outside of a museum, was a painting of the three of us on my couch; me and Damian facing each other with Jason in the middle, his hand on my knees, just like the time they'd spent the night. The casual intimacy of our poses and easy smiles on our faces were like a dream for the future, laid bare in front of us.

It wasn't as easy as the painting made it look, not yet, but maybe someday it would be.

I nodded, agreeing with Jason; “it's beautiful~ you're so talented! … is … is that really how you see me?”

Damian hadn't made me smaller; I was still round and soft in his painting, but instead of feeling insecure the portrait made me feel beautiful. The delicate, sweeping brush strokes that made up my body exuded warmth and tenderness. I wasn't entirely sure if it was my love for him that he'd seen and captured in the paint, or his own affection for me, but it was there on the canvas for all to see.

He tilted his head; “... I don't understand? That is what you look like.”

“Yeah, but … Damian, in a culture that teaches women that being big is bad, making a fat girl feel beautiful in her fatness is like the artistic equivalent of finding Bigfoot - there are people who say they have, but who actually believes them?” I smiled softly, looking into his confused eyes; “you’ve made me feel beautiful, Damian. … Thank you.”

Jason hugged me tighter, kissing my shoulder; “... good job, demon brat~”

Damian flushed a bit, obviously pleased, and for a moment it looked like he was going to say something, but before he could, a tall woman came up behind him. She smiled warmly, looking at me; “ah, you must be the panther tamer!”

Damian's entire demeanor changed in an instant, closing in on himself. I frowned, looking up at her; “excuse me? … Who are you?”

The woman ruffled Damian's hair, either not noticing or not caring about his grimace or minuscule flinch as she made contact; “I’m Mrs. Webster, Damian's math teacher! It's a miracle; ever since you've come into his life, our little wild cat here has finally retracted his claws! Finally dropping some of those nasty habits of his. I don't know what you're doing with him, but keep up the good work!”

“... So you did just say what I thought you said. … Ok, bet.” I pushed Jason's arms off me and stepped forward until she stumbled back, making sure I ended up between her and Damian. “First of all; don't ever touch him again. Anyone with two brain cells can tell he doesn't like it.”

She stuttered, stepping back more; “ah! It was just a hair ruffle-”

“Don't. Ever. Touch him. Secondly, he is a person, he's not a wild animal that needs to be tamed. What on earth makes you think that's an appropriate thing to say about one of your students?”

“Hey now! I just meant that his behavior has gotten better, it's a compliment!”

I continued to walk toward her, slowly backing her into a corner. “Shut. The fuck. Up. You were not complimenting him; you were othering him. He is a child in a foreign country with foreign, often contradictory culture; since coming here he has had to relearn everything about how life works and what's expected of him, and he has had to do it using English, one of the most obnoxious languages to learn, and probably the fourth or even fifth one he knows. He is expected to gracefully fold himself into an American household, go to an American school, and follow American customs; nothing in his life would have prepared him for any of that, but he has done it all, and he's done it while living under intense media scrutiny because of his family name. And on top of all that, he's also making all these life changes during one of the hardest parts of a person's development. He works hard every single day to navigate this life, often doing things he hates because they're expected of him, all for your comfort. Is it so much to ask that his teachers treat him with some basic fucking respect?”

She frowned, trying to interrupt me; “I was just-”

“No, I'm talking, that means you shut your mouth. That boy, that brilliant, brave, kind young man was ripped from the life he knew, the good and the bad in it, sent away from his family and friends, to a supposed land of freedom and safety, and when he gets here he has to deal with mediocre minds like yours calling him an animal and praising the people who care about him for their ‘good work' with him? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

I have done no work here; it is not work to meet him where he's at. It is not work to love that boy in whatever ways he's ready to accept. And it is certainly not work to treat him with respect. That is the bare fucking minimum. It is a joy and a pleasure to get to know him; he is a remarkable young man. On his worst day he is a better person than you are on your best. He is compassionate, and patient, and he is a good kid. How fucking dare you talk about him like there's something wrong with him being just the way he is? Who the hell do you think you are? What kind of racist shit-”

“Hey now! I am not racist!”

The side of my fist made contact with the stone wall above her head. I took a deep breath, growling softly; “tell yourself whatever you need to. But you are going to keep a few things in mind going forward. Number one; anything you say or do to Damian will get back to me. Number two;” I smirked, chuckling darkly; “I am not afraid of jail time. So, for everyone's best interest; you will respect his boundaries, and you will think before you open your ignorant mouth. Because if I find out that you or anyone in this school has more inconsiderate, racist ass bullshit to say about my kid, I will be back. And from that day on, you will not know a moment of peace. Have I made myself clear, Mrs. Webster?”

She nodded quickly, eyes wide with fear, and I gave her the most condescending smirk I could before spinning on my heel to return to my boys. I only made it a few steps before Damian ran straight into me, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. His face buried into my chest, and his shoulders were shaking. I was almost pushed back by the force of him throwing himself at me, but I managed to stay standing. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, one hand gently cupping his head, the other stroking his back.

We stood like that for a long while. I wasn't going to pull away first; this was the first time I'd seen Damian initiate physical contact with anyone, and I was not about to give him any reason to believe it had to stop before he was ready. He could have as much as he wanted for as long as he wanted it.

I looked up at Jason over Damian's head; I thought he looked a bit proud, leaning against the wall to watch us. He gestured to me that he was heading out of the room but would be back soon and I nodded, just continuing to hold the shaking boy in my arms. I ran my fingers through his hair gently, hoping it would soothe him, “... I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Damian…”

He shook his head, slowly releasing me. He didn't look up, but I could tell from the wet spot above my heart that he had been crying. “... Can we go home?”

“Yeah, kiddo. Let's get you home.”

“No, I mean … your home?”

“Oh, yeah, you can spend the night at mine. You can spend the whole weekend if you want. … I'll tell your dad for you, if you want?”

He nodded, slowly taking my hand. “... Can we stop at the manor, so I can get a few things and feed my pets?”

“Of course we can.” I smiled softly, gently squeezing his hand, and led him out of the auditorium to find Jason.

Jay met us at the front office. “You're being swapped into Mr. Desantis's math class, Damian.”

Damian nodded, staring at the floor in front of him. “... Thank you.”

Jason nodded, looking at our hands; “... We ready to go?”

“Yeah. We're gonna stop at the manor so Damian can get some stuff, and then we'll all head home.”

Jason nodded, letting us lead the way. He walked behind Damian and over a bit, so the youngest Wayne was flanked by us. Damian watched his feet as we made our way to the car, smiling just a little. “... Are you really going to return if I tell you my teachers are still saying those things about me?”

I stopped next to the car, falling to one knee in front of him, and gently squeezed Damian's hands. His vibrant green eyes slowly met mine, and I had to bite back the rage boiling in my chest; he looked so fragile, like he expected me to say ‘no, you don't deserve it, take care of yourself'. “... Damian, if anyone says or does anything to make you feel inferior, I want you to tell them that you are not required to accept their mistreatment, and walk away. Then you call me. If I don't pick up it'll be because I'm still asleep or at work, you text me and then you call Jay, he will come get me, and we will come for you. Ok?”

“... You'd leave work?”

“... I feel like that's not as impressive as the fact that I'm willing to lose sleep over this, but yes; you are more important than work. I can easily get another job, what I can't and won't do is make you face their shit alone.”

He nodded slowly. “... Father said I'm not supposed to misbehave at school … We have the public eye on us…”

Jay growled softly; “I am certain that he didn't mean for you to accept that kind of bullshit from inferior minds. And if he did, he can take it up with me. You do not have to accept their cruelty. Not ever.”

Damian looked up at Jason slowly, nodding. “... Really?”

“Really.”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men

[cherrrydragon]

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

CHAPTER SEVEN: INHIBITION (OR LACK THERE OF)

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SUMMARY ↳ The three C's (carnival, chaos, and cuddle pollen). Jon lets you drag him away, looking back to see Damian squinting at him through the mask. Making your way out of the venue you catch onto Ivy’s parting words. "In a world of violence and chaos, my cuddle pollen offers a moment of peace, a false but blissful reprieve. It's almost poetic, isn't it?" Fuck. Your. Life. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: mentions of having sex (as a joke/none is actually had), cuddle pollen (kind of non-con cuddling and kissing, but reader really doesn't mind) wc: 4.4k

Nari wakes you up by screeching in your ear. You groan and roll over, snatching him up and gently throwing him off the bed. You sit in bed and contemplate if you really have to get up and function as a normal person, but alas, you do. Grabbing your phone, your eyes widen a tad. Jesus, you slept till ten? Good thing it’s the weekend.

You have the day off from work, so it’s up to you to find something to do. You feed Nari, making sure to give him a bunch of apologetic kisses. Maybe you’ll swing by the Den today. It won’t hurt to work some more on the badassium.

You groan and stretch, doing some warm-up exercises. Nari perches on your back as you do push ups. He weighs nothing, but it’s the thought that counts. Karen pipes up from your laptop.

“I’ve done you the liberty of adding Victoria’s contact info on your phone.”

You release a fond sigh. “Bit of a meddler, are you?”

“I am simply saving us time.” You snort. You grab your phone, changing Victoria’s name and shoot her a text.

sugar mommy

whats good how we doing

i dont need anything just wanted to say hi

also its [name] btw

Her response comes a minute later.

[Name]???

How did you get my number?

karen did

shes kind of my guy in the chair

does all the super cool behind the scenes stuff yknow how it is

I thought I was your ‘guy in the chair’

fym ur my sugar mommy

Her only response is a money bag emoji, making you chuckle. She’s got personality and it makes you smile. A knock at the door catches your attention. Probably May coming to make sure you’re not dead. She’s gotten used to leaving early now. The lock clicks as you open the door.

Oh, it’s not May. It’s Jon .

“Jon!” you say, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles, a friendly one. “Hi, [Name]. I was just visiting Dami, but he seems to be in a mood… so I was wondering if we could hang out?” he asks, hopeful. “If that’s okay with you?”

You coo internally. You’ll never get over how sweet he is. “Yeah, of course. Just text me next time, yeah?”

He nods, stepping inside as you open the door for him. Nari trots over to him and rubs against his ankles. “What time did you get up? I don’t think Metropolis is that close to GC.” You feel a little evil, putting him on the spot because you know he flew here.

He pauses, thinking of an appropriate answer. “Uh, I don’t know. Six, maybe?” he winces, hoping that answer makes sense. You don’t have it in you to do the mental calculations so early in the morning, so you nod. You wouldn’t actually out him like that, anyway.

“Got any ideas are we just gonna have hot sex the whole day?”

Jon, to his credit, only lightly blushes. He’s long gotten used to your sense of humor. “There’s that carnival that just opened.”

“Mmm, maybe later. Carnivals always look better when it’s dark.”

“Then…” he thinks, “...let’s just go for a walk. See what we find.”

You grab your keychain with far too many charms on it and your other essentials, hooking your arm in Jon's. “Lead the way.”

May doesn’t have any outward reaction save for a knowing look as you exit the building. You squint your eyes at her in response. The noise of the city greets you as you walk out. People around you go on with their days, each living their own complex life.

It’s silent for a moment as the two of you walk. You take the moment to just think for a moment. You thought life was crazy when you found out you had crazy spider powers, but then you turned it around and made it into something good. You thought life was crazy when you got asked to officially join the avengers, but then you found a family in them. You thought life was crazy when you found out about the ‘spider verse’, but from that you realized you weren’t alone. You should’ve known better than to think it couldn’t get any crazier than that, but here you are. Very far from home.

You just wonder what will come out of this .

“You’re quiet,” Jon notes, voice barely a murmur.

“Just thinking.”

“That’s not good,” he jokes. You scoff and consider flicking him, but it would probably hurt.

“Just thinking how hard it’ll be for Damian to look me in the eye the next time I see him.”

Jon raises a brow. “What… happened between you and Damian? Is that why he was in a mood?”

“So crazy story, he walked in on me making out with my kind-of bully.” Jon’s eyes widen incredibly. His pace stutters and he chokes on air. You grin as you watch his flail. “Making out might be generous, but it was pretty passionate.”

You continue, “God, you should’ve seen the look on his face. He genuinely stopped functioning for a sec! He’s a bigger virgin than I thought. Or maybe it was just that it was with Tori of all people. It’s okay though, she’s not all that she seems.”

Jon stops walking altogether, accidentally yanking you to a stop as well. You blink at him.

“Ok…” he starts, “first of all, you kissed your bully?” he asks incredulously.

“Well, like I said, she's not all that she seems,” you shrug. He nods, still looking at you in disbelief.

“So… what? Are you guys… dating?” he hesitates to say the word.

You scratch your nose, looking down. “Nah… we talked it out, she uh…” you trail off, “...it was a spur of the moment thing, we’re just friends. Now, anyway.” You feel bad saying you rejected the girl who was in love with you, but you also can’t say everything that went down.

You look at Jon, seeing him also looking down in thought. His brows are furrowed, you wonder how strange it is to Damian if it’s so strange to Jon. He nods after a bit, continuing his walk. His arm holds yours a bit tighter.

“You’re the strangest person I’ve ever met,” he laughs disbelievingly.

Probably because this isn’t your universe. “Probably because I’m so awesome all kinds of people want a piece of me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late,” you grin.

For as drab as Gotham City is, at least this carnival provides a little bit of color. The vibrant lights provide an enchanting atmosphere. You can’t help but grin. Jon watches you with a smile.

“What do you want to do first?”

“Pie eating contest.”

He blinks. “Okay?” He’s a little confused by your quick and confident reply. Now don’t be alarmed, you usually eat three meals a day. The meals are just… well, some might argue if they’re actually meals or not. Tony estimated that you should be eating five proper meals a day to combat your increased metabolism. You’re not starving or anything as you are now, but if you ever get injured your increased healing won’t help.

“I wanna eat,” is your only explanation as you drag him to the stand.

Jon chuckles as you drag him along, his smile widening at your enthusiasm. “Alright, I’ll join you,” he smiles, matching your energy. The two of you approach the stand where a small crowd has gathered around a makeshift stage. A lively carnival barker stands at the front, rallying contestants and spectators alike.

“Step right up, folks! Who’s got what it takes to be the pie-eating champion of Gotham tonight?” the man announces enthusiastically, his voice carrying over the excited chatter of the crowd.

You and Jon sign up eagerly, taking your places at the contestant table. The rules are simple: eat as much pie as you can within a set time limit. The pies, piled high with whipped cream and fruity filling, look delectable under the carnival lights.

The contest begins, and you and Jon dig in with gusto. The pies are delicious, each bite bringing a burst of sweet flavor. The crowd cheers and laughs as you both devour your way through the pies, alternating between bites and glances at each other, each trying to outpace the other.

Jon manages to finish his first pie just as you’re halfway through yours. He wipes his mouth with a napkin, grinning at you challengingly. “You’re pretty good at this,” he remarks between bites.

You flash him a competitive smirk, determined not to be outdone. “I eat a lot,” you quip back, mouth full of pie.

The contest continues, the pace quickening as the time ticks down. Cheers and encouragement from the crowd spur you on, adding to the thrill of the competition. Despite the messiness and the rapidly filling sensation in your stomach, you keep going, driven by the desire to win and the sheer enjoyment of the moment.

Finally, the timer buzzes, signaling the end of the contest. You and Jon set down your forks, breathing heavily but grinning broadly at each other. The man approaches to determine the winner.

“And the winner is…” he declares dramatically, waiting. After a tense moment, he announces, “It’s a tie!”

You and Jon exchange a look of surprise and then burst into laughter, both of your mouths covered in pie and thoroughly satisfied. The crowd applauds, appreciating the spirited effort you both put into the contest. You fancy yourself smug, seeing as you kept up with a kryptonian.

Jon wipes his hands and face with a napkin, chuckling as he looks at you. "I can't believe we tied," he says, shaking his head in amusement.

You nod, still grinning widely. "Yeah, I can’t believe you kept up with me.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

The man hands each of you a small prize—a colorful ribbon that declares you both "Pie Eating Champions of Gotham City Carnival". You both accept the ribbons with good humor, pinning them onto your shirts proudly.

As you step away from the contest table, Jon nudges you playfully. "So, what's next on our carnival adventure?"

You glance around, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling carnival. The vibrant lights of the rides beckon in the distance, and the aroma of cotton candy and popcorn fills the air. "Let's hit the Ferris wheel," you suggest, pointing towards the towering structure adorned with sparkling lights.

Jon nods eagerly. "Sounds good to me. Let's go," he says, grabbing your hand as you make your way towards the Ferris wheel.

The line isn’t too long. The worker wishes you a good ride as the two of you step into the brightly colored gondola, slowly ascending to the sky.

As the ride reaches its peak, you both fall silent for a moment, taking in the view. The city skyline looms in the distance, a stark contrast to the colorful and carefree world of the carnival. For a brief moment, you feel a sense of peace and contentment, grateful for this simple yet memorable night with Jon. 

"This is nice," Jon remarks, leaning back comfortably in his seat. You nod in agreement, admiring the view.

Jon looks at you, thinking. There are a million things he wants to say, wants to admit to you. He wonders how you would react to each and every one of them. With only positivity, he’s sure. You’re the type to go with the flow, whatever happens, happens. He’s certain he could trust you with his life, eventually.

He takes a deep breath, unsure what’s about to come out of his mouth. “[Name]–”

The Ferris wheel rocks violently for a heart stopping moment. For the other riders, mostly. You and Jon immediately stiffen to attention, because Ferris wheels aren’t supposed to do that. Jon crosses over to you, locking you in his embrace as he looks over the edge. You try to look as well, but a simple tense of his arms prevents you.

A threatening green is making headway across the carnival grounds, sending people running. Vines bloom, crawling over stands and attractions. Poison Ivy, looking as prickly as ever, strides in gracefully.

"This carnival is a blight on this land," Ivy declares, her voice carrying over the chaos. "You trample on nature for your own amusement, but no longer. Tonight, the Earth fights back."

Oh, great. You can’t do anything because you’re stuck in the air with Jon. Jon can’t do anything because he’s stuck in the air with you. You sigh, leaning back against him.

With a wave of her hand, flowers bloom amidst the destruction, a stark contrast to the panic around her. Ivy's plants begin to dismantle the carnival, reclaiming the area for nature. Her message is clear: the environment will no longer be taken for granted, and anyone who harms it will face her wrath. Vines crawl up the Ferris wheel, wrapping around the gondolas in a nightmarish display.

“Um. Any bright ideas?” you ask Jon.

He says pulling out his phone, he pulls it out of your view and begins to type furiously. You bet a hundred bucks it’s Damian and Jon is furiously texting him to haul ass and get here now .

A vine thrusts itself into the box, making Jon yank you both to the floor in the middle. It spreads slowly, hauntingly, slowly encompassing the gondola. Flowers bloom… ah shit—

Jon shifts the two of you, blocking you from the flowers. Also putting himself directly in front of them. “Jon don’t–” you warn, because regardless of his heritage, it can still affect him. Even more so since he’s only half. He presses your face into his chest right as the flower coughs, releasing the spores right in his face.

“Don’t breathe them in,” he growls. Thanks, you weren’t planning on it anyway. You hold your breath, anyway.

He’s getting antsy. “[Name],” he mutters gravely. “Please. Close your eyes and trust me.”

You internally sigh, preparing how you’re going to act like the most aloof fool after this. You nod and close your eyes. Jon picks you up, arms under your knees and around your back. You wind your arms around his neck and rest against his chest.

Jon, to his credit, doesn’t just fly down the ride. You feel him jump down the bars of the Ferris wheel, making sure to keep you secure in his arms. His landings are precise and calculated, avoiding the chaos below. You hear the gasps and shouts from the people around you as Jon navigates through the mess of vines.

Finally, you feel the solid ground beneath you as Jon gently sets you down. “Okay, you can open your eyes now,” he says softly.

You open your eyes and find yourself standing amidst the carnage, the Ferris wheel towering above you. Vines continue to spread, and the air is filled with the panicked cries of carnival-goers trying to escape. Jon stands protectively beside you, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of Ivy.

“We have to stop her,” you blurt. He looks at you incredulously. You ignore it and look around, trying to find a way to do this without Spinnerette. Eyes narrowing, you spot something in the distance.

“There.” You point at a nearby water tower. “If we flood the area, it might disrupt her control over the plants.”

“Good plan. You should leave it to the professionals.”

You blink, turning around. It’s Robin who spoke, arms crossed and looking at you. However, it’s the sight of the 6’2 emo bitch dressed in a bat fursuit that makes you stiffen.

“Robin! You came!” Jon brightens, before coughing into his fist. “I mean. Of course you came, you’re Robin.” The urge to roll your eyes at his silliness is strong, but you resist.

Batman doesn’t react, though you’re sure he just sighed on the inside. “You should get to safety with the rest of the civilians,” he grumbles out in his Batman™ voice.

You nod rapidly. “Yup yup. Yessir Mr Batman.” You grip Jon’s wrist and drag him away. Fuck that, majorly. If he says leave it up to him, you’re perfectly fine with that. You’re pretty sure he’s gonna take what you said and connect some dots, and you don’t wanna be around when that happens. He can take his theories and shove it up his ass.

Jon lets you drag him away, looking back to see Damian squinting at him through the mask. Making your way out of the venue you catch onto Ivy’s parting words.

"In a world of violence and chaos, my cuddle pollen offers a moment of peace, a false but blissful reprieve. It's almost poetic, isn't it?"

Fuck. Your. Life.

Jon is looking just a tad bit worse for wear (you’re lying, he looks haggard) when you arrive at your apartment. May, thank god, wasn’t at the desk, so you managed to get by without having to deal with that. You  shove Jon onto the couch, wincing with a small apology. Frantically typing, you google how to deal with cuddle pollen.

The number one suggestion is to visit Gotham General Hospital, but given Jon’s less than human nature, that's a no go. Other results suggest drinking lots of water and sweating it out to dilute its affects.

You throw your phone somewhere and quickly fetch some water for Jon. Nari meows at Jon, sensing something is wrong. When you make your way back you see that Jon has trapped Nari in his arms, cooing unintelligibly at him.

“Drink,” you tell him urgently, lifting his chin. He leans into your touch, obeying. You make sure he drinks every last drop. When he finishes you turn around to get some more water, only to be yanked back. You crash into Jon’s arms, watching as Nari trots away, happy to be free. You wish you were Nari right now.

Jon nuzzles into you, humming contently.

“Jon…” you warn.

“Yeah, baby?” he hums. Jesus.

“You’re under the effects of cuddle pollen. Your mind is scrambled. Just let me get you some water–”

He hugs you tighter at the mention of you leaving, standing up with you in his arms. You try to get free, holding your own for a bit. But alas, he wins. Stupid kryptonian biology. He carries you to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed.

You blink. “Okay, hang on–”

Jon belly flops right on top of you, earning an ‘oof’ from you. He wraps his arms around you, snuggling into your collarbone. He sighs in content as he relaxes on you. There’s no hope for you to escape, is there?

“Jon, come on. Let’s… do jumping jacks or something. Sweat it out of your system. You can even hold my hand!”

Jon grumbles, burying his face in your neck. “I know something else we can do to get sweaty.”

You blink. Then snort. Damn, is that the cuddle pollen talking or is your influence taking effect? You feel Jon smile against your neck.

Sighing, you acknowledge that you’re not getting out of this situation. You hesitantly rest your arms around him. You feel his grin get wider, and then he surprises you even further by laying a goddamn kiss against your neck. You grumble and mutter, “I am going to make fun of you so hard after this.”

Laying there, you think. If you didn’t just compromise yourself to Batman, then hopefully you won’t be approached when you next patrol. Or worse, when you're just being a regular civilian. 

You blink, deciding you’re gonna be a little shit.

“Jon,” you say, “give me your phone.”

Jon reaches into his pocket, unlocking his phone and handing it to you. It’s got a couple cracks in it, and his wallpaper features a photo of a sunset over a vast farm. You scroll through his contacts, clicking the one that says ‘damian !! (stinkin loser)’. You click the call button, hoping he’s done superheroing and has time to answer.

He answers on the third ring. “Jon, you fool, what were you–”

“Damian,” you interrupt before he says something you’re not supposed to know. The line goes quiet on the other end. “I’ll keep it brief. Jon got absolutely fucked over with a face-full of cuddle pollen and he won’t let me go. We’re at my apartment, so if you can pull some rich people strings and get an antidote or something I would very much appreciate it.”

“...He won’t let go of you?”

You roll your eyes and snap a picture of Jon wrapped around you. “Help,” is all you say after you send it.

You hear him sigh. “I’ll be there in fifteen,” is all you hear before the call cuts. Jon yanks the phone away from you, throwing it somewhere in the room as he flips the two of you over. You lay on his chest now, feeling his chin rest on your head and his hands come up to rest on your waist, fingertips creeping up under your shirt.

Your phone is in the other room and you didn’t see where Jon threw his, so you’re left to stew in his arms until Damian comes. You begin to hum a song, for your own peace of mind, ignoring the way Jon’s hands rub your skin in a back-and-forth motion. Jon removes one of his hands and places it on the back of your head, pushing you into his neck. The bastard lays another kiss on your head, muttering comforting words.

Damn, you think you’re starting to fall asleep. Sue you for feeling safe in his arms, he’s literally Superboy. It doesn’t help that you're lying in bed and he's rubbing your back so softly you feel like he’s your boyfriend comforting you after a long day.

You hear your door kick open, and the only reason your fight response doesn’t kick in is because you’re still stuck in Jon’s arms, and because you know it’s Damian. Jon on the other hand, immediately sits up, glaring hard at your hallway. When Damian shows up in your doorway, bag in hand, he relaxes. He lies back down in the bed, snuggling in to you.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

He ignores your weak greeting, digging into his bag and pulling out a syringe filled with what can only be the antidote. You pointedly make a note to definitely not mention how the needle is green.

“Just be careful he doesn’t grab you. He’s… really strong,” you mutter.

He grabs Jon’s head, pushing it aside to bare his neck. You’re surprised Jon lets him, but cuddle pollen does leave people without inhibition. Damian sticks the needle in, making Jon groan. You watch the fluid disappear, feeling peaceful knowing that this will soon be over. Damian finishes administering the antidote and takes a seat on the bed.

“Thanks for… coming through,” you say. You don’t know what else you can really talk about right now.

Damian just looks at you. “What were you even doing there?”

He means the carnival. You furrow your brows. “Hanging out? Sorry we didn’t predict that Poison Ivy was gonna be there. Maybe you should talk to Batman about that.”

“You could have been hurt. Jon did get hurt.”

“It’s just cuddle pollen, Dami,” you reassure, placing a hand on his arm. He grasps it tightly. “You gave him the antidote, he’s not hurt.”

Damian’s grip on your arm is firm, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re lucky it was just that. It could have been worse.”

You nod, understanding his concern, but feeling a bit annoyed at the same time. “I know, I know. But we’re fine now. Jon’s going to be okay.”

Damian's expression softens slightly at your reassurance, though his concern is still evident. He looks at Jon, who seems to be coming out of the pollen's effects, his grip on you loosening. Damian then turns his attention back to you, his gaze intense.

"You shouldn't take unnecessary risks," he says, his voice low but firm. "Especially not with someone like Jon."

You raise an eyebrow at the implication in his tone. "Are you implying something about Jon?"

“Jon is… brave, but restless. Just be more cautious.”

You give him a playful smirk. "Are you worried about me, Damian Wayne? That's almost sweet."

He scowls slightly, clearly not amused by your teasing. "I'm serious, [Name]. This city is dangerous enough without getting caught up in avoidable situations."

“I promise to be more careful in the future,” you say, eyes earnest. It seems to settle Damian, for now.

Jon groans under you. He sits up, taking you with him. You fall to his lap as you look at him. He blinks for a moment, taking in his surroundings. You hear his heartbeat slowing, calming. He looks at Damian, looks at you. Stares at you, whom his arms are around, in his lap.

He freaks, shoving you out of his embrace and scrambling back. Damian catches you, growling, “You fool, Jon, careful!”

“I’m so sorry!” he cries. “I was… oh my god, I’m so sorry–”

You hold out your hands to placate him. “Jon, it’s okay! I’m fine, I don’t care. You weren’t in control. You didn’t do anything.”

“I should have left when I got hit,” he growls to himself.

You sigh, looking at Damian for help. “What’s done is done. No use in whining about it now,” he huffs, shifting you to sit up.

Jon purses his lips, looking like he wants to cry. You open your arms, “Come on.”

He hesitates, so you grab him and haul him into your embrace. He stiffens, before wrapping his arms around you. He melts into your embrace.

Damian clears his throat, making Jon pull back with a sheepish expression. “I should really get home before my parents worry.”

You nod, patting his arm. “Of course.”

He thanks Damian as well on his way out. You don’t hear the door open, so you figure he just got antsy and couldn’t stay in the room longer. You don’t blame him. You sigh when you see he left his phone, grabbing it and handing it to Damian.

“Thank you,” you mutter. You look into his eyes, he looks back. In a moment of weakness, you place a hand on his cheek and lean in, pressing your lips to his other one. The kiss is chaste, barely lasting for a second before you pull back. “You’re paying for my door.”

Damian says nothing in response, simply watching you. He raises his hand, clasping yours and gently bringing it down. He nods.

“It was nothing.” And then he and Jon are out the door. You sigh, laying down in your bed that smells like Jon now. No patrol tonight, again.

notes: jon was about to risk it all on that ferris wheel just saying

[g1rlr0b1n]

Jon is sitting in the driver's seat of a car learning how to drive from Conner who's in the passenger seat, he's attempting to park. Tim and Damian are in the backseat, just along for the ride.

Conner: Just pull through Jon. There's no car in that spot

Jon: I don't think you're supposed to do that. The handbook says pull-through parking isn't safe

Damian: Tt, just pull through boyscout.

Jon: No Dami, I'm not gonna do it.

Conner: it's fine. Just pull out and repark, you're really crooked.

Jon nervous and panicking: I can't, I might hit the car next to me. I can't do it!

Damian rolling his eyes: can't pull through, can't pull out, what can you do Kent?

Tim: Gross

Conner: Nice...I mean gross

[on-the-clear-blue]

Bruce, doing his "I am totally not excited" thing as he settles down in the home theater with all the kids around him, it's his birthday, and the only thing he asked for was them all to get along, and to watch the old, 1960s, likely Hanna-Barbera animated Gray Ghost cartoon: Damian, this if the first time you have watched this correct? My father introduced this to me and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did your age.

Damian, giving a curt nod, he has been preped by the others for this: Of course Father, I shall watch with great attention. (Starts texting Jon for evac before his phone is snatched away by Dick)

Dick, grinning with a slightly crazed smile: Oh come on Dami, Jon can wait till we are done with this tape...don't you flippity frickin try to run from this, suffer like the rest of us.

Jason, tied up and handcuffed, sitting near by: I can't believe I fell for this again...i am going to get you for this Timberly...

Tim, sitting with his legs crossed and a sure smirk on his face: Sure you will...though every time you threaten me Bruce is going to give you the sad billionaire eyes.

Jason, very pointedly not looking in Bruce's general direction, who is indeed giving sad billionaire eyes at his child: And that's why I ain't looking at him...shit I looked at him...God turn those "lipid tears" off B it's worse than going batman...

Steph, cuddling up with Cass on a love seat: Are you sure we can't ditch this? I'm not even his kid...

Cass, elbowing Steph while stealing her popcorn:Shush, he pays your bills, you can show up for the worlds saddest birthday party.

Duke, laid out, his feet on Jason's lap: This is my first time watching too...I mean I got snippets last time but I had a killer crock attack, I kinda wanna see where this will-oh that's racist, oh that's oh...

Dick, wincing and nodding: It's like a train wreck, wait till episode 14, I almost ran away when Bruce showed me that one for the first time, that poor Romani lady gets suspected because she came with the circus...

Damian, tilting his head as he watches, confusion forming on his face: I think I now know how it feels to be hate crimed...I did not even know that slur could be used that way...it very much is not a noun...

Bruce keeps forgetting certain things are in the episodes, and ends up pausing half way through, grabs his phone and called Lucius: HOW much money would it be for WE to move into TV? Only that much? Give who ever pitched that idea a raise...only that much? Double it. Yes I am sure, also the first project will be remaking Gray Ghost, I will the main director. Yes...only that much? I want it done tomorrow.

Bruce, hanging up the phone: We will need to take a rain check on watching this...I am needed in Vancouver, I just baught an animation studio and I am...taking all this (hand waving at the glaring 1960s issues) away and remaking it.

[starwarsmum]

Day 7, Mutual Plotting 😁 be warned, this one is angsty, and a follow on from Forced Proximity

@maribat-calendar-events

Dick was having a rare day off with his daughter when his phone buzzed and made a mooing noise. Wondering what the younger Superboy wanted, he opened the text straight away.

His eyes widened as he read the message three times, unsure if he was hallucinating. But the words didn't change and he started to bounce in excitement.

“Mar’i, do you want to go visit uncle Dami today?” He called out, already grabbing her coat and shoes; she never turned down a chance to see her favourite uncle. He was proved right moments later when she flew over to him and chattered excitedly about showing Damian the pictures she'd drawn of Titus.

Driving to the café Jon had text him about felt like it took hours. Everytime he had to stop at a red light he barely refrained from cursing out loud. What if Damian decided to move before he arrived? He knew Damian had been interested in the cute little Parisian, but he hadn't realised it was mutual! 

He suppressed a grin when he thought about the way the younger Wayne had denied being interested in the girl until Jon had called him out. But they hadn't been able to get him to talk about it any further before Dick had had to head back to work, which frustrated him up until now. 

But now? According to Jon, Damian had invited Marinette on a date. Sure, the Super had described it as a sinister meeting to plot the demise of Jon and Marinette's friends, but Dick could read between the lines.

Arriving at the café, he ushered Mar'i inside and joined the queue of people waiting to order. Almost instantly he spotted the pair of dark haired teens tucked into a corner. Damian was leaning into the girl's space, looking at the book that she was scribbling in and gesturing at. 

They both looked completely absorbed in a world of their own, his arm resting on the back of her chair and her knee pressing against his. The smirk on his face definitely made Dick think that they were scheming something and that maybe Jon was in trouble, and he hesitated as he reconsidered interrupting them.

Unfortunately, Mar'i took the decision away from him and raced towards the pair. He looked down guiltily as Damian’s head whipped up and the young man scowled at him before turning back to his niece. But now that his cover was blown there was no reason not to join the pair, so he ordered and went to sit with them.

“Tell Kent that my retribution will be merciless and severe,” Damian said with a frown. Marinette gave a mischievous giggle and closed her book with a snap before tucking it away. Damian shot her a grin and Dick had to bite back a squeal. 

“Uncle Dami, daddy said I could show you my picture! Look, it's Titus!” Mar'i said impatiently, shoving several pieces of paper at him. He nodded as she chattered through the various pictures before showing them to Marinette.

“Oh, your dog, right?” She asked warmly, looking the pictures over with interest. “Oh, he's such a lovely dog! And you've done a wonderful job with drawing him,” she added to the eager child. Mar'i beamed up at her and started to point out all the different parts of the pictures that showed that it was definitely Titus. “I see you got your uncle's talent with art, Mar'i.”

There was a brief interruption when Dick and Mar’i's drinks arrived before silence settled at the table. Damian had stopped glowering at Dick in favour of surreptitiously looking at Marinette over the rim of his coffee mug. 

Marinette, in turn, had a happy flush across her cheeks that told Dick that Damian was not being as stealthy as he thought with his frequent glances. Before he could mention it, Mar’i started to ask about how Marinette knew Damian, and if she was her new auntie.

“Mar’i, you can't ask if she's your aunt,” Dick scolded, though he noted that Damian didn't immediately end the line of questioning. “Marinette is one of the students visiting from Paris. You remember we told you about them?”

“Yes, daddy. So is uncle Damian talking to you because you know about Ladybug and Chat Noir?” 

The table went silent again, Marinette frowning slightly before shooting Damian a confused look. Damian, to his credit, didn't look outwardly panicked, but Dick froze as he tried to think of a way to play it off.

Meanwhile, Marinette was running through all of her recent interactions with Damian. She bit her tongue in frustration at just how badly she had misread the situation - she had grown complacent in the most recent months, assuming that nobody was still looking for the Miraculous. 

“I don't know,” she said in a quiet voice, turning towards Damian fully. “Is that why you've been talking to me?”

His hesitation was enough of an answer for her. Standing and grabbing her bag, she was furious with herself for falling for such a simple plan.

“Marinette, wait,” Damian stood as well, but she didn't give him the chance to try and lie his way through an explanation. 

“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she bit out before all but sprinting away from the three of them.

Damian had more difficulty trying to extricate himself and by the time he could get free she was already gone. He stood in the corner of the café, his hands flexing as he frowned at the exit.

“Did I do something wrong?” Mar'i asked in a tearful voice, shaking Damian out of his introspection. 

“No, Mar'i, it is not your fault,” he said heavily, sitting back down to comfort her. “It was my own fault, and you were not incorrect in assuming that I spoke with her to learn about the heroes.”

“Then why was she so mad?” The confusion in the little girl's voice would ordinarily have made him laugh, but he wasn't sure he could do it without shouting at something. 

“Because she believed I had other intentions,” he said quietly before lapsing into silence. 

_ _ _

It was the last day of the visit and Marinette just wanted it to be over. It was a Saturday, so all they had to do was pack and make sure they were in the hotel lobby by 11am. She had spent the last couple of days avoiding both Damian and Jon, using Chloé and Adrien as shields.

But today both blonds had begged off to go out early and visit a couple of shops before they went home. They knew Marinette wouldn't be able to get out of bed in time but hadn't wanted to just abandon her without her consent. They were both gone by the time she did wake up at 9am, so she couldn't fault their logic at all. 

She lay fairly apathetically in bed for longer than she'd meant to and had to rush through her morning routine to get packed in time to head downstairs. By the time she was done it was quarter past ten and she checked her phone to see where the other two were.

Once she had ascertained that they would return in time for the deadline, she decided she had time to grab a coffee at a nearby café - not the same one she had been at with Damian. She perused the selection of pastries whilst she waited for her turn to be served, but was interrupted by an increasingly heated discussion happening between an older man and the barista.

She frowned as she worked out what was being said and stepped forward to calm the situation when someone else did.

“Listen, my guy, some of us just want to order our coffee. She said she doesn't want to give you her number which, let's be real, it was very creepy of you to ask for. Now either make an order or go away.”

Marinette eyed the exhausted looking man in front of her with a surprised appreciation. When the man started to argue back, the large man standing with the tired one cracked his neck and glared down at the creep, which stopped him fairly quickly, and he left. The barista seemed relieved and thanked the men, who merely shrugged and made their order. 

Before they could pay, however, Marinette darted in and swiped her own card. She beamed up at the bemused men - well, the larger one seemed bemused, the tired one didn't seem to know what had happened - and thanked them for stepping in for the server.

“No problem, Pixie. Thanks for the coffee, Timbit here can't function without it. I'm Jason,” he said, offering a hand for her to shake. 

“Marinette,” she replied before placing her own order and moving down the row with them to wait for them to be made. “And, honestly, if you hadn't stepped in I was going to, and I don't imagine he'd have found me as threatening.”

Jason laughed and they chatted briefly. She learned that the tired man, Tim she assumed, was his brother and had been staying up late regularly for the past several years. In return she explained that she was on her way back to Paris that day and was just getting coffee so that she could make it onto the plane without feeling too exhausted.

“Aw hell, you're kidding, right? You're one of the exchange students from the Wayne Enterprises thing? That's one helluva coincidence - we're on our way to the hotel to escort your class to the airport.”

“Wow, what are the chances?” She asked, half joking, half wondering if Tikki was influencing things. Her order came and they all left the café together, chatting about the program and what she most enjoyed.

“Wait, did you say your name was Marinette?” Tim asked suddenly, apparently perking up from the caffeine. When she nodded he gave Jason a meaningful look that made alarm bells ring in her head. “The class president, right?”

“Ye~s,” she said slowly, glancing between the two men. 

“Oh my God, our niece has not shut up about you since she met you the other day,” Jason said, Tim nodding vehemently next to him. “She is crazy about you, please, tell us what you did to make her like you so much. It would annoy Demon Spawn so much if he wasn't the favourite uncle anymore.”

“...I don't really know what's going on here,” Marinette said, feeling slightly panicked and a lot overwhelmed. “Are you talking about Mar'i?”

“Yes! She keeps telling anyone who will listen that you're the nicest person she's ever met, it's been driving the demon brat insane.”

“Are you talking about Damian?”

“That's the one. Kid's been in a pissy mood most of the week and I, for one, would like to see how far it goes before he snaps.”

They arrived at the hotel at that moment and, still feeling confused and overwhelmed, she babbled out an excuse to head over to Adrien and Chloé and bailed. She could feel their eyes on her and half hid behind Adrien to escape.

“Everything okay, Maribug?” He asked, glancing over to their two chaperones. They both seemed to be in discussion for a few minutes before Tim opened his phone and called someone. 

“I think I met more of Damian's family?” She said in a high pitched squeak. Chloé glanced over at the pair sharply and moved closer to her friend. “I don't know, they were just at the café I went to and we ended up talking. But then they recognised my name and mentioned Mar'i and I panicked.”

“It's okay, we won't let them single you out again,” Chloé said firmly, linking her arm with Marinette's. 

But neither approached the trio and Marinette relaxed as they all trooped onto the bus. As class representative, she was expected to sit at the front of the bus and ensure they had everyone and everything.

“Oh, Marinette, Lila says she's forgotten something in her room,” Madame Bustier said in a bright voice. Biting back a groan, Marinette ran back towards the desk with a description of the lost item. 

Tim followed her, apparently to make sure they didn't lose track of her, but she was on edge from his close proximity. They stood in awkward silence whilst the staff checked the room in question. He looked like he wanted to say something but she crossed her arms and faced away from him.

“We're sorry, there doesn't seem to be anything left in that room,” the receptionist said, smiling apologetically.

“Thank you for checking, I'll just run back to the bus and ask if there's anywhere else she could have left it,” Marinette said, but Tim jumped in and said he would do it and rushed away before she could stop him.

Sighing and rubbing her eyes, Marinette cursed her luck. How did she keep getting into such awkward situations? She didn't even know Damian had more siblings, further proof that he hadn't wanted anything more from her than information. 

Sensing someone coming towards the desk, she moved aside automatically and stayed wrapped up in her own thoughts. Because of that, she gave a startled yelp when someone gripped her upper arms. 

Moving on instinct she stepped into the person's space and pushed. The guy grunted and stepped back, releasing her as he did so and she froze as she realised that Damian had apparently been summoned to the hotel.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, trying to keep the bitter resentment out of her voice and only half managing. 

“I came to apologise,” he blurted out, looking flustered and unsure. “It was never my intention to hurt you and I did not want you to leave Gotham without knowing.”

“Wow, I'd hate to see you trying,” she snapped, arms coming up to hug her middle. 

“Marinette, I am sorry. More sorry than I can possibly convey, and I wish I could make it right with you because…because you are a wonderful person and I cannot stop thinking about you,” he confessed, a flush spreading up his neck.

“Look, I don't want your apologies - I don't want anything from you. I can only assume you didn't get whatever information you wanted since you won't leave me alone.”

“If it was just for information, I hardly needed to come just to you,” he said quietly, hand coming towards her before stopping and lowering. “Marinette, I admit that I began talking to you because I wanted to know about the French heroes - I was curious and you were the most appealing of your class for me to approach. But when I asked you to come out for coffee that evening my only intention was to get to know you.”

“Very nice words,” she said, trying to push down the hopeful flutter starting somewhere in her chest. He looked up at her sharply, something like relief on his face and she swallowed before looking away. “Nice words that would maybe have been genuine when you didn't have several days to come up with them.”

“Marinette, I am being honest with you,” he said, a hint of frustration colouring his voice. “What can I do to prove it to you?”

“Why do you even care? I'm supposed to be going home right now. I wouldn't even still be in this building but stupid Lila said she lost something. We're never going to see each other again. But if you need me to accept your apology or whatever, then fine, apology accepted.”

“Because I don't-”

“She said she found it- oh, um, sorry,” Tim said, looking embarrassed when Marinette flushed.

“Okay, great, we should get going,” she said flatly. “Goodbye, Damian. Good luck with whatever.”

And she fled, not caring if that's what it looked like to Tim and Damian. Her heart couldn't take any more of this, she didn't want to have to listen to his pleas and sugar coated words designed to trick her into forgiving him.

_ _ _

Dick had been feeling guilty ever since he had interrupted - and subsequently ruined - Damian's date. His youngest brother had been in a horrible mood ever since she had vanished from the coffee shop, hardly able to keep his temper even with Mar’i.

He had hoped that, when Jason and Tim had summoned Damian to the hotel on the last morning of the class trip, he would be able to smooth things over. Well, summoned was a bit of a stretch; they had sent a taunting message to the kid saying that they were getting to know their prospective sister-in-law but Damian had flown out of the manor at record speed.

It became apparent that no such heartfelt words had been exchanged when Damian returned an hour later in a filthy temper. He slammed doors, growled at anyone who came close to him and locked himself in a training room with a sword. 

Overwhelmed with guilt and a sense of purpose, Dick started researching Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

Part 3

[sky-eira]

Hufflepuff Damian won in a recent poll (sorry, Dami!).

The fic is in progress. I originally planned for this fic to be one of the three fics that may replace my main current WIP once it’s finished, but I’ve decided to work on this JonDami Hogwarts AU as a lighter side project instead.

(Title, Tags, and Excerpt may change in the final draft)

Title: The Magic of You

JonDami Hogwarts AU (Gryffindor Jon x Hufflepuff Damian)

Tags: Friendship, School Crushes, Growing Up Together, Eventual JonDami, Slow Burn (feelings develop over the years)

Excerpt:

“Jonathan Samuel Kent.” A name was called. Damian narrowed his eyes as he watched Jon, the boy who shared a compartment with him on the train and flapped his gum about ‘our dads are friends and therefore we should be friends too’, excitedly make his way to the front. Jon pulled a big smile, face giddy with nervousness when the Sorting Hat was placed on his head.

“Gryffindor!” The Hat announced.

The Gryffindor table cheered. Damian nodded in approval as the kids all around him clapped their hands. Good. They wouldn’t be in the same house. This boy wouldn’t bother him anymore.

“Damian al Ghul Wayne.”

Damian strode with confidence to the chair by the podium. As he passed through the tables, he could feel all eyes on him. The whispers started again. Of reputations. Of his name and heritage. Some students from the Slytherin table were smiling expectantly at him, no doubt sharing Damian’s confidence that he would join them soon.

The teacher placed the Sorting Hat on Damian. It murmured and mumbled at the top of his head, taking its sweet time.

He’d seen a kid who was instantly sorted into Slytherin before the hat even touched his temple. It was that natural. The Sorting Hat should’ve done the same with Damian instead of mulling over his head, but whatever.

The answer was already clear.

[haveihitanerve]

batfamily shenanigans:

Superman needing a babysitter: I'm sorry if it's a big inconvenience.

Batman and his dry sense of humor: Clark I have seven children everything is a big inconvenience.

Superman giving worried puppy eyes.

Batman sighing: But Kon and Johnathan are always welcome. As long as Kon stays out of Tim's room and Johnathan doesn't let Dami talk him into mischief.

Kon and Jon with angel like smiles as they lie through their teeth: YES uncle Bruce

They're liars, but they're cute, so they can stay... i guess... lol!

[puppiesandnightlock]

Link to Ao3: A Robin's Song

Summary: Since diapers, Jon and Damian have been best friends. Accidentally encouraging jon to go ask out a girl, damian must now deal with the consequences of pushing his what he thinks are unrequited feelings down. He turns to music to vent, posting under an anonymous online username "Robin".

What he was not expecting, was for the music to blow up, leaving him internet famous, and his feelings out in the open.

and Jon is completely clueless.

A/N: THIS IS A REVERSE ROBINS AU AGES R: Damian is 17 Duke is 16 Tim is 14 Steph is 13 ½ Cass is 12 Jason 10 ¾ Dick is 5 Jon is 18 Kon is 14 Bart is 13 Wally(will be mentioned eventually) is 5 Roy(also will b mentioned eventually) is 11

Based on this post by @jaybirbie

December 3, five weeks before.

“Can’t believe you, Mr. Jonathan-its-under-fifty-degrees-please-wear-a-jacket, didn’t wear the biggest coat you could find today.” Jon snorted, rifling through his closet.

Damian’s bronze skin was dusted with a pretty pink as he scowled, a knitted green sweater and black skinny jeans his only defense against the cold.

“It’s a weekend, Jon, I had no intention to go out, and I let Duke take the big jacket because he was going out with friends.” 

Jon hummed sympathetically before pulling out the next sweater he had, his letterman.

“Try this on, Dames.” 

“I don’t think it’ll be that warm.” Damian eyed it skeptically. Jon gave him a look, and he scoffed, shrugging it on anyway. 

“Looks better on you than me.” Jon cackled, snapping a quick picture.

The sleeves went past his hands, the jacket going down to his mid-thigh. Damian was drowning in a sea of warm fabric, and for a moment he was lost, inhaling deeply and smelling the fabric softener Jon’s mom used, a hint of the cologne he stole from his father, and a smell that was utterly Jon. Just Jon. His best friend, and definitely nothing more. Never…anything more.

“Dami?” Jon croaked nervously, silence taking over the room.

Damian snapped out of his little dream world and flushed red, scrambling to take it off and hand it back. “Way too big.” 

“Is it normal for you to smell clothing?”  Jon raised an eyebrow, was that a small, miniscule burst of pink on his cheeks?

No, stop messing with your own emotions, Damian.

Damian turned his nose up and scowled. “Yes, when was the last time you washed that thing?”

“Hey! It’s clean, thank you!” Jon shot back indignantly, but not before sniffing it quickly, just to make sure.

His friend snorted, before putting on the light jacket he’d brought over his knitted sweater. 

“We can just stay home and watch tv or something,” he offered. 

“Should I put on Glee?” 

“I’ll grab some cocoa.”

Five weeks after.

“What a sight for sore eyes.” Jon sighed, slumping against his locker. Damian looked up, shutting his as he grabbed his books. 

“Your locker?”

Jon let out a breathy chuckle. “No. Her .” 

He followed his gaze to a girl walking down the hall, laughing with a group of girls. Some wore a cheerleading outfit, but she wore a skirt with leggings, white shirt, and a low cardigan. Her skirt and sweater were varying shades of blue, and when she opened her eyes, one could see her eyes were as well. 

Thick pieces of brown hair fell to her hips, two long layers framing her face, slightly shorter bangs parted in the middle of her forehead.

And with one glance, he could already tell. Jon was utterly enamored with her.

“What’s her name?” Damian asked quietly.

“Haisley. She’s one of the cheerleaders, and god, her voice when she sings. Angels, Damian, I swear to you she’s what angels sound like.”

Every word out of Jon’s mouth was ripping him to shreds and he fought the sudden urge to scream. Instead he swallowed hard, spitting out words like they had done him personal harm.

“You should go talk to her.” 

Stop, Damian, don't do this to yourself.

“I’m sure you’ll get on very well, she looks sweet.”

Jon went pale. “Oh, God, she’s coming this way! Damian, what if I screw up?”

“Jon, it's a simple greeting. Say hi, I’m Jon, I’ve seen you around, then blah blah, say something charming. You’re good at that.”

He said it so dismissively, it nearly convinced himself that he didn't actually care. His taller friend inhaled sharply before meeting her halfway. Before he made it to her, she was tripped by something, and dropped her books. Being the good boy he was raised to be, he rushed over to help. 

Damian winced as Jon said something to make her laugh, his pale complexion flushing crimson at the sound.

Fighting off the stupid emotions, he kept his head down and sped out of the hallway. 

What had he done?

Present day.

Third wheel again. 

It was lunch, and instead of the usual eating under the big oak in the courtyard of their high school, Damian was stuck between Haisley and Jon, trying not to scowl as they chattered and flirted. 

It was disgusting, frankly, and never failed to make his appetite disappear. 

He had long since stopped trying to join their conversations, always drowned out by the “we’re-not-together-yet-Dames” couple.

“I’m just going to throw my tray away.” He called loudly over their talking, the only acknowledgement that he received was a thumbs up from Jon and a sweet smile thrown his way by Haisley.

Never one to waste food, he tucked the remaining packaged snacks and apple in his backpack before returning.

Before he made it to the table, he saw Jon draping his letterman over Haisley. The same one he’d been given on that cold day. Bile rose in his throat as he saw her lean her head tentatively on his shoulder, watching as Jon grew flustered, and just as hesitantly, wrapped an arm around her.

Damian suddenly felt as if he’d stumbled across something private, and hastily turned and walked away.

The walk turned into a run, and suddenly he was in the library, holed up in a corner as he cursed the sniffles he got.

This is hardly something to cry over , he scolded himself. I knew it was never going to happen.

He stayed in the little corner until the bell had rung, sketches of characters that didn't exist pouring over his sketchbook.

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

Walking home had always been something held to high regard for Damian these last few weeks since Haisley arrived. The only time he could have Jon to himself like he used to. These moments were treasured now, more than ever.

“Where’d you go at lunch, Dami?” Jon asked, strolling along the sidewalk.

“The library. There was a book I wanted to check out.” He said smoothly.

“Where is it then?”

“Oh, they didn't have it, so I had to put it on hold. I must have gotten distracted looking at the other ones.”

Yes, he had precrafted a story or five to tell.

“Did I miss anything important?”

“No, not really.” Jon let out a whoosh of air. “Just that I may actually be falling in love with Haisley.”

Hurt struck him like glass daggers to his heart, but years over playing games with his brothers had ensured he had an absolutely stellar poker face.

His mask of indifference washed over him as he responded with a tremor to his tone.

“Is that so? What makes you think that?”

“Gosh, she’s so pretty, for one.”

Damian’s stomach twisted, and he spoke. “So, is it just physical? That’s not love, Jon, that’s a crush.” 

“Wha-? No, I'm not done. She’s sweet, kind, and funny. She can actually have a snarky side if you hang around her enough. She has a good heart, and I know my parents would approve. Besides, do I gotta mention all the other stuff? The way her eyes get all squinty when she laughs,  her smile, all the blue. I look good in blue, don’t I? We could match~”

Jon continued gushing and at the corner, Damian clapped him on the shoulder and declared with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes that he was happy for him.

“You sure, D? You don’t look too excited.” Jon seemed worried.

“Course, J, I only want you to be happy. If you're happy, I'm happy. Just…this won’t come between us, right?”

He would die before he let their friendship burn, even if that meant he had to keep his distance.

“Never. You're my best friend, Damian. We’ll always be like this won’t we? Forever?”

“Yeah. Forever.” Damian swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and breathed a sigh of relief as he hit the row of small houses. 

“My stop. See you tomorrow.”

Before he could hear the response, he scurried away and across the street to the little tired house on the corner.

He unlocked the door and shut it behind him, slumping against it. The inside of the house was warm and cozy, the smell of cooking food making it homey.

When he opened his eyes, he could see his oldest younger brother, Duke, in the kitchen, the old yellow apron they had tied around his waist.

“You okay, Dames?” Duke set the pan down and lowered the fire, moving to help him up.

“Peachy.” He responded, letting himself be pulled upwards.

He hung up his coat and backpack and tried a smile, which Duke returned sympathetically.

Marching into his room, he starfished across his small bed and screeched into the pillow.

“✨Anger issues✨” Was hummed from above him.

Grumbling, Damian launched his pillow towards the person, his mood lifted slightly as he heard an “oof-” as the pillow hit his target.

“My dear menace to society.” Damian grinned as the pillow was thrown back and a black haired head popped up from the top bunk of the bunkbeds next to him.

“How was imprisonment for you today?” 

“Fine, fine, I won't bore you with details .” The teen waved his hand dismissively, before raising an eyebrow.

“How was your day, is the question we should all be asking if you came in here and tried to summon a demon with those screams.”

“And summon a demon, I did.” Damian gestured upwards to his little brother. 

“Asshole.” 

“Swear Jar.”

A quarter was thrown at his face.

“I’m serious, I'm fairly certain you and Duke are the ones who pay like half the bills from just the jar.”

“Shut up.” Tim stuck his tongue out, Damian returning the gesture. 

“Kon told me Jon got a girlfriend.” His tone softened. “Are you okay?” 

The crush was well known between the three oldest brothers and Cass, and it was often used as a teasing device, if not them actually trying to convince Damian to say something. 

“Fine. And they’re not together yet, tell Connor to get his facts right.” he waved off his brother’s concerns.

Tim looked at him, seeing directly past the lie, however, knowing better, he kept his mouth shut.

“You should write,” He said instead. ”Healthy venting.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Nonetheless, Damian followed his advice and took out a writing pad, proceeding to stare at the blank page for the next half hour until his youngest siblings and father arrived home, much like the author of this fic.

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

After dinner, everyone lounged around the living room, chattering and doing activities with each other.

Dick bounced onto the couch next to Damian and turned on the biggest puppy eyes he could muster. 

“Dami?”

“Dickiebird?”

“Will you play for us?”

Damian inhaled sharply. It had been awhile since he’d touched his guitar, but it still remained one of his younger brothers favorite pastimes.

“I’m a little rusty, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try.”

He went and grabbed it, repositioning himself back on the couch. His siblings paused in their activities to watch.

Hesitantly he tunes and strums, before playing around with some notes. Finding he quite liked the pattern, he continued with the slow melody, switching it up and returning it.

“I’ve never heard this song before.” Steph turned her head to the side, pausing in painting Cass’s nails. 

Jason bookmarked the page in his book and tore a page from one of Damian’s sketchbooks, coming to sit in front of Damian. 

“Can you play that again? It was really pretty.” 

He repeated it, again and again until the tune swirled around the house, bringing everyone into the song.

The kids had made a small circle around the couch, Bruce putting down his newspaper in favor of listening to his eldest.

There was nothing in his heart that spoke of pain and longing, all poured into the melancholy melody surrounding them.

When he came back to the present, the paper Jason had torn was covered in little scribbles. 

Music notes.

“Timmy helped, but these were the ones that we got, so that you can play that again sometime.”

“Please play it again!” Dick chirped.

“ Very beautiful.” Cass agreed out loud, trying to sign, but stopped by the wet paint on her nails.

“You should write lyrics!” Duke suggested. “I can help!” 

The rest of the evening was spent curled in the living room, Damian writing furiously and Duke helping him make things flow, Tim leaning over occasionally and remarking how similar they sounded to Damian's own predicament.

Damian was subjected to yet another day watching “Jaisley” as Tim and his group of friends, Duke, and if he was honest, he called it that as well, pine after each other.

If he had to hear the words “She’s an angel, D.” in a lovestruck tone one more time, his father would have to pick him up at the local police station for arson and vandalism.

Luckily, his savior came in the form of one Duke Wayne, who magically showed up almost every time Damian was on the brink. Today was his full school day, so he walked with Jon and Damian back home, wincing everytime Jon opened his mouth to gush about Haisley.

“Well, fuck.” Duke muttered as they walked into the house, dropping a quarter into the large jar as they did. 

“It’s bad.” Damian sighed. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I can sweep this under the rug, it’ll be fine.”

“Dames-” his brother started, before Tim came barreling through the door.

“Bye guys!” He screamed from the porch, two boys and a girl waving back at him.

Shutting the door, he turned to his older brothers. “We gonna record?”

Damian crossed his arms, staring up at his taller (only by a few inches!) little brother. 

“Wonderful idea, Timothy.”

He stalked towards the room, overhearing Tim whisper to Duke. “ He called me Timothy, was it really that bad?”

“Worse, dude. Wayyyy worse.”

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

Damian was wearing an oversized black hoodie with yellow lining, a dark green domino mask from an old halloween costume, and had left his hair out in a way rendered mostly unrecognizable to most of his school peers. 

Tim screwed around with the beat-up old laptop they’d salvaged awhile back, and a suspiciously high-quality recording mic. 

He would ask where it came from later.

The three brothers threw out some song requests for Damian to warm up, and then began recording. 

After the third take, they stopped.

“Dami, you sound monotone. Like you’re rehearsing a line and we have you at gunpoint behind the camera.”

“Sorry.” Damian flushed. 

Duke spoke up. “This is your song, your story. Try singing it how you feel, like you’re watching them and monologuing internally.”

He chewed his bottom lip, nodding. “Can we try again?”

Tim smiled, counting down. 

This time, he shut his eyes, letting the soft strumming of the guitar take him back to the moment when he felt his heart break for the first time. 

He floated away into the memories of them on the cold December day, to when they saw Haisley for the first time, to just recently listening to the voice he loved to hear pine for someone else. 

The tune flowed around him, lifting him up into the song until he was nearly sobbing with the pain of reliving those painful moments, pouring all he had into the few minutes. 

When he hit the final notes, he let the tears building up catch in the mask, a few stubborn ones slipping past the white out eyes and being hastily scrubbed away as Tim stopped recording. 

The silence was loud, and nervously, Damian spoke up. “Should we retake?”

“That was perfect, Damian.” 

“God, I could have cried. That is how this song was meant to be sung, and I'll be damned if this doesn't blow up by next week.”

“SWEAR JAR!” Tim and Damian chorused. 

“I’m giving compliments.” Duke grumbled. 

Tim stuck his tongue out and Damian skimmed the top of his guitar with his fingers gently. 

“I…I don't think I want it to blow up too much. These are my feelings, and to be honest I wouldn't be surprised if they find out it's me just by the words.”

“I guess.” Tim shrugged, going over the footage in his computer, and tweaking with the picture and turning the sound up over the videos, adding subtitles with the lyrics.

“Your old profile pic is that symbol you drew a few years ago. Do you wanna keep it?”

It was a bubble letter R in dark colors of green and red, a hint of yellow making it pop. Damian studied it before nodding. 

“Yes. I'd like to keep it.”

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

They had played the song after dinner, the family applauding at the end. Tim posted it online with everyone onlooking, and although Damian claimed he didn’t care much about any of it, he sent the link to Kon, and asked him to pass it along to his older brother.

And if he hacked into a few accounts to put the link in their recommendations, who would know but him? 

…And the FBI agent that Bernard from across the street told him was watching the computer, despite using a VPN.

It was for a good cause anyways.

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

BIG HUGE THANKS TO MY AMAZING BETA READERS FOR THIS CHATPER @robbed-ghost and @redasuree !!!!!!!!!!!

[devine-fem]

whats ur biggest damijon hc

biggest? no idea. my hc are usually boring asf and any headcanons i do have get put into a fic some where down the line.

i just have a bunch of headcanons altnerating through my head.

the most recent i was thinking about jon having a habit of collecting things. i headcanon jon keeps trinkets that just happen to belong to damian in one of his drawers, he has robin batarangs, he has a torn out page of dami’s sketch book, he has a picture of them together ofc, he also keeps love letters in there, not written by him but girls in his school that asked jon to give them to damian, lastly i feel like he has torn out pages of his diary he’s too anxious to leave around inside that drawer… its a hobby he tells himself, its no concern most of those things relate to damian. (ill post this today seperste from this post)

i also headcanon that damian subconsciously tries to climb jon at times and jon doesn’t even bat an eye to it because his kryptonian biology makes him numb to it

i also headcanon that damian will perch up/sit on one of jon’s shoulders when he’a lazy, just like a bird

i also feel like damian is subconsciously clingy, nuzzling up to jon like a cat at times.

i also feel like after a mission damian gets all nervous and looks around like hes bracing for an attack and his teammates are confused as to whats wrong but suddenly theres a streak of blue and jon’s crashing into damian with a hug sending him feet across the ground. which damian was expecting the whole time

i headcanon that damian climbs through jon’s window and sneaks up to him to give him a kiss while jon pretends he didnt know cause that would ruin the fun

i headcanon for the span of like weeks damian and jon had this inside joke where damian would speak in arabic and jon would speak in kryptonese.

and thats putting aside the possibility theyll call each other pet names in those languages

headcanon damian as the little spoon

headcanon jon’s terrified of horror movies even though hes a superhero and damian can’t focus on movies because his eyes are always stuck on jon’s expressions

headcanon that damian will get art block but he can still draw jon for some reason

headcanon that damian does all the house work like sewing jon’s capes and helping him get dressed in the morning

headcanon that damian hates kissing jon first because the act of getting on his tippy toes is mortifying

imagine jon getting his cape put on with the help of damian and damian’s somewhat struggling to do it due to his height so jon spreads his legs apart like he’s doing the splits to meet his height

jon is still stuck in his crush phase and gawks at damian

jon says “damian deprived” unironically like its a condition

its canon that they watch anime together so its fun thinking of the type of stuff theyd watch

jon asks before he does anything “can i kiss you” “can i see you” “can i hug you” ugh, i love it so much

they love to cuddle, fish, nap or talk on the back of goliath for no reason just because it feels homey since it was the first few things they did when they met

thats a few

[edledamianfan]

On the topic of DC getting more animated shows like my adventures with Superman and Suicide Squad isekai.

Please I need the supersons. I need more animated media of them asap. I'm just saying so there is enough background information about the two of them (cause honestly most introduction to the DC franchises these days are either from the animated and movie not comics).

So that later in future we make the two of them babysit Liz just like in the comics once Lizzie's character is a lot more fleshed out since she's kinda new. Make them go on silly adventures, Lizzie being a child and Jon and Dami just running after her. A slice of life genre that becomes action when they run into a problem.

The idea that they are called when things are dire like a support team back up team is pretty appealing to me. Like Lizzie just popping out of now where with the actual two superheroes sweeping everyone in the path from the sides (also in the midst of the fight Jondami always keep an eye on Lizzie that is probably dropkicking a dude 4 times her size).

It'd be so cute to see them interacting with different superheros groups too like JL, Teen Titans (probably the team being amused at Damian being soft for Lizzie, not that he'll admit it), and possibly YJ too (I don't read a lot of YJ but Bart and Kon radiates so much energy I'm sure they'd match Lizzie lol)

Bro I swear it'll be so good I need it so bad. (Ngl it's giving of buddy daddies and SpyXFamily but I'm all for it)

One Idea I had was them crushing through the mall from one end to another when being chased by a villian. Maybe unnecessary. Will it be good? Yeah very much. Will the animators suffer? Yes very much. (Not really sure why but it does reminds me of goku on the cloud just flying away into the horizon)

Bro pls it'll be so good tho. (Ngl it does give up buddy daddies and SpyXFamily but I'm all for it)

[angelic-love13]

Chapter 6: Dude I'm Not Being Creepy Jason's POV

Summary: Jason and Tim spy on the art club.

Highlight:

Jason wanted to get a closer look so he was pressed against the window as he watched the group walk to the main entrance. “Whatcha looking at?” Tim asked from behind him. Jason jumped a little and turned to look at him. “Jesus, what the fuck Tim!” Jason said, punching his arm. “Damn it Jay, ow that hurt!” Tim said, rubbing at his arm. “Well, why were you sneaking up on me like that?” Jason asked, taking out his headphones. “I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I tried to talk to you, and you never responded. Why are you creeping out the window? Whose car is that? It looks ancient?” Tim asked, Jason blushed and sighed. “I just saw Dami come with his art club to the house.The ancient car is his teachers. What are you doing here? Didn’t you hear the whole, no coming around while Damian’s little club is over?” Jason asked, Tim nodded and poked a finger at Jason. “I was picking a book up for Bernard. Now, what about you Jay. What are you doing here?” He asked, Jason shrugged his shoulders. “Just reading, the usual.” He said, Tim raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, just looking through the window being a total creep for no reason?” He asked, Jason sighed, shaking his head. “Look I’m not being a creep. The car caught my eye when I was reading.” He replied, Tim gave him a puzzled look. “Well whatever. Want to go and creep on Damian and his friends? Like the only people I’ve seen really hang out with Damian is Jon and so I’m curious about these civilians who Damians genuinely want to spend time with. To the point where he’s even threatening others to not cause a scene while they are here.” Tim asked, Jason nodded, closing his book. “Sure, why the fuck not. I have nothing else better to do.” He said putting the book down. “Great, that sounds good.” Tim said. Well, if Tim’s wanting to go as well it isn’t that weird. I mean it would be cool to see Dami’s little group again. Maybe, this time not come off as such an ass to the whole group.

[wintermelonbear]

Just Another Picture to Burn

Summary: Just a cute little friendship between Jon, Damian, and Marinette. Can be read platonically or with some romantic inclination. Just two friends who want the best for each other and will celebrate each other’s milestones 

Sidenote: I haven’t written anything in years, but dragged my butt to write this for the MGI civil war so proceed with caution.

Sharp green eyes open up to the world moments before the buzz of a phone alarm signals the need to get up. Out of an abundance of caution stemming from his tumultuous upbringing the young teen scans the room for any signs of an intruder, most days this is a fruitless endeavor, but Damian could never find himself to drop this habit. He notes an envelope on his desk and reaches for the compressed bo staff under his pillow. As he approached the desk the only sound that could be heard was the light creak of the manor’s floorboards and low mumblings coming from the kitchen. A sigh of relief breaks this silence as Damian recognizes the gentle script sprawled across the front of the pale pink envelope spelling out “To Dami”. 

Cautiously he flips the envelope checking for signs of tampering. While the sentiment is nice, the choice to send a handwritten letter rather than a text was out of left field from his companion. He notes with a slight grin that she had used the wax seal he gifted her after the defeat of Hawkmoth. Sliding a batarang out from the underside of his desk he slices open the top of the envelope to reveal a piece of thick cardstock. At this Damian’s brow moves into a sharp arch, what could have been so important, yet so minimal that she had to portal over to his place in the middle of the night. Pulling out a piece of pristine white paper, he reads, "You, me & Jon. 7 pm CET. I already checked with your dad, so no excuses. Love, Mari”

Picking up his phone –the latest from Wayne Tech– he taps out a message to his top contact, “Spotted Menace”. A bright blue message populates the screen reading out, “An invite? To what exactly?” For emphasis, he adds in a raised eyebrow emoji then after some contemplation adds in a thinking emoji. Following that text, he quickly snaps a picture of the note to Marinette to confirm he received her letter before preparing for the day. 

Before leaving his room he picks up the envelope again, this time to admire her handiwork instead of ascertaining its threat level. Turning to the back of the envelope his chest puffs out a bit as he dons a victorious smile he takes in his handiwork. She had used the wax seal stamp he had gifted her on her 16th birthday. He hand-carved the image of a ladybug resting on a branch of plum blossoms, to signify her new beginning as a hero by choice and not by necessity after the defeat of Hawkmoth.

As Damian slipped into the driver’s seat of his sleek sedan he mused that 12-year-old Damian would be utterly baffled by the person he is today –apart from being the stronger member of the new generation of heroes, that has always been a given (Somewhere Jon is rolling his eyes). Honestly, when Damian first met Marinette he found her pathetic. She was just a worthless little girl who was gifted powers beyond her capability to wield, and he never hid his disdain for her. Thus, to young pre-teen Marinette the youngest Robin was just a massive dickhead who had no feelings apart from his superiority complex. He was an embodiment of torment; the worst parts of Felix and Chloe combined. Not to say that Damian is perfect now, but at the time he lacked the perspective he gained from his travels to and return from Lazarus Island. Now he has spent more time learning from others’ experiences, has gone through his first heartbreak after Flatline decided that time spent with him was distracting her from her personal goals, and all of that has taught him to care and have some level of empathy. He may not be like Marinette and Jon, ready to do what is right solely because they blindly believe in the goodness of others, but he understands that even if he may not find value in someone, that does not mean their life is worthless. 

The first time Robin acknowledged that despite Ladybug’s lack of technical combat skills, she had plenty of other skills that other heroes would be envious of, Nightwing attempted to give him a “bear hug” and Superboy nearly fell from the sky. What Robin to this day doesn’t know about that night is that his comm was connected to Ladybug’s and the reason she fell off the roof was not the attacker’s sharp jab to her ribs, but rather the shock of Robin giving her any form of praise. From then on Marinette decided maybe Robin was capable of growing a heart, and while it may have started as one-sided conversations with her rambling on about herself and basic topics of conversation – how’s the weather in the Gotham? It’s been warm in Paris! Did you see the new Mecha Strike game launch? What’s your favorite dessert? –  eventually, Damian started warming up to her. 

By the time the youngest Wayne snaps out of his reverie, the bell has rung signaling the dismissal of his second-period and the start of the school’s 20-minute break. Fishing through his pockets, and quickly unlocking his phone he finds several missed messages from Marinette, Jon, and their group chat “Talk Shit Get Hit”. After skimming through their private messages, Damian bites the bullet and opens up “Talk Shit Get Hit” to begin tackling the growing number of messages. Scrolling to the top of the chain of unread messages he sends Jon spamming the chat with unintelligible keyboard smashes followed by “MARI HOW DID YOU GET US OUT OF LIZZIE-SITTING DUTIES???”, Damian swears that the capslock on Jon’s keyboards must be worn down with his overusage. He reacts to the message with a set of eye emojis because there are very few people Diana trusts with her fussy toddler and he knows for a fact that she’s in the midst of an investigation into a rapidly expanding crime syndicate. As he scrolls further he is dismayed to find out Marinette cashed in this free day in exchange for a date night babysitting gig in addition to normal babysitting duties. Damian loves Lizzie like a younger sister and of course, wants her to be in the care of someone befitting of her status. Still, he has been yelled at one too many times for taking her on patrol with him, and sometimes bringing a 3-foot-tall sidekick with a tutu (courtesy of Marinette) kills his intimidation factor. Once he makes it past a wall of crying emojis and gifs of betrayal from Jon, the chat goes back to its normal contents, filled with reels shared between Jon and Mari, and complaints about their teachers. Jon eventually asks Marinette what she has planned for tonight that is worth the extra babysitting duties, but Marinette declines to answer and instead tells him to be patient.

After school Damian carefully considers his outfit but sticks with his classic black turtleneck and a pair of khakis, Marinette will call him boring but what does she know? She used to have a crush on a guy who exclusively wore a striped shirt with an open button-up and bright orange Converses. Once they became comfortable with one another Marinette made it VERY well-known that while she wished his civilian wear had more diversity and color, she found his original Robin suit to be a “crime against fashion and most people’s eyeballs”. Stating that only traffic lights would appreciate sharing a color palette with him. Damian argued that it’s tradition, while Marinette replied with “It’s fugly and you know it. Y o u! ditched the design in the first place”. Rolling his eyes, he heads to the window and yells out “Jon! I am ready!” and with a flash of blue and red Jon shows up at his window clad in a red hoodie and blue jeans. The Super family really needs to consider their civilian “disguises”. 

Swooping Damian up into his arm Jon bolts out the window and into the sky towards Paris until they reach a familiar flowered rooftop. After two taps to the trap door beneath them, the door abruptly gave way and Damian was met with a loud POP and confetti raining down onto him. Quickly Marinette busted out the door cake in hand and in unison started singing with Jon. While it was not a rare occurrence for Marinette to provide them with sweets at her residence, what was on the cake was the strange part. It was a picture of one of his earlier Robin outfits? One that after many earfuls from Marinette knew to be her least favorite, why would she put it on a cake?? 

“Happy outfit death to you! Happy outfit death to you! You no longer look like a traffic light! Happy outfit death to you!” Out of seemingly thin air, Marinette pulled out a lighter and lit the top layer on fire revealing a picture of his new outfit underneath. “You do not know how relieved I am that I do not have to be with someone whose color palette matches a kindergarten classroom rug, and not a cute one”.

Damian with a puzzled expression questions her, “Is this something to be celebrated? Besides that I changed outfits months ago”. Marinette looked at him mouth agape. “Close your mouth you will catch flies at this rate”.

Almost as if rehearsed Jon and Marinette reply in unison “What are you my maman/ma”?

After clearing her throat Marinette went to explain, “There are plenty of things to celebrate for your outfit change! You’re finding out the type of Robin you’re going to be, and I personally believe that is a worthy cause for celebration. Besides, after Monarch’s downfall, I was really struggling to figure out what to do myself. My whole world felt like it splintered into pieces, but you and Jon were there to help me figure things out when the consequences of my actions™ struck. I want you to feel empowered too, even if you don’t need it the same way I did”. With a smile Marinette brought out some forks, “Now let’s dig in”! If it made him uncomfortable how quickly his friends stabbed his frosting face with their forks, he didn’t let it show.

[rutlancecf]

At first sight.(Fragment)

- Good night.- He heard a voice near the stairs of the living room.

He turned his head and what he found took his breath away. There was the prettiest girl he had seen so far, surrounded by several older people who spoke to her a few words, as well as caressed her head or pricked her cheeks. She was wearing a dress of green, yellow and red colors that made her stand out in the crowd, as well as her black hair was impeccably styled in a small ponytail. Suddenly, the girl turned to look at him and Jonathan could swear that everything was moving in slow motion, just as a song started playing out of nowhere, drowning out all other sounds.

Heaven.

I'm in heaven.

And my heart beats

so that I can hardly speak.

And I seem to find

the happiness I seek

when we're out together,

dancing cheek to cheek.

- Isn't Dami a very pretty girl?- The hand that ruffled his hair brought him out of his reverie.

- Dick!- He exclaimed in surprise. Then he tried to answer, hesitating a bit.- Ehm, yes. Do you know her?-

- Of course, little friend!- He squatted down and pointed to the little girl.- Damiana is my pretty baby sister, but we all call her Dami affectionately.-

- Dami.-

- That's right.- He confirmed and put a hand on his shoulder.- Doesn't she look very pretty in her dress? I bought it for her myself, although she told me over and over again that she didn't like it.-

- Yes, she looks very pretty.- He blushed slightly on his cheeks, smirking.

- Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!- He smiled and said in a low voice, giving him a little push.- Come on, go and greet her.-

- Yeah!-

He approached her, after she went to the table where the sandwiches and punch were. And without thinking about it, he took out the frog that he had inside his sack and extended it to her smiling.

- Do you want her?- He asked her and did not wait for her to answer him.- I found her in the garden of my house before coming to the party, my mom said that she was very ugly and to let her go because she was going to get dirty the suit, but it seemed to me that she was very lonely, so I put her inside my jacket and brought her with me.-

Perhaps it was the silence that stretched, or the look of revulsion Dami gave him, that told him that he had botched his chance to make a good first impression on the Wayne girl.

~What a fool I am! I forgot that girls don't like frogs! Surely she won't want to talk to me anymore! What am I going to do?~

Dami stepped forward, scowling, making little Kent break out in a cold sweat.

- You fool! - She yelled at him.- How do you think of bringing a frog? -

What happened next left the boy perplexed.

- Poor thing, she must be dying of thirst.- She said after taking the animal from his hands.

Rising up on her toes, the black-haired girl picked up the amphibian and dropped it into the punch bowl.

- Much better! She will no longer be thirsty.-

- EEEEEEEH?- Jonathan's eyes widened, unable to believe what he had just witnessed.- WHAT?-

- Listen, you...- Crossed her arms and narrowing the most beautiful green eyes Jon had seen so far, Damiana was interrupted by another scream.

- FOR GOD'S SAKE! THERE'S A FROG IN THE PUNCH!-

And while several people were choking on their drinks or whispering in not exactly low voices, Dami took Jon's hand and pulled him away from the table.

- Huh?-

- Don't stand around like a fool!- The girl scolded him, almost bursting out laughing at the mischief.- Run! Run!-

- Y-Yes.- With his heart beating fast, he smiled while once again he heard the song neutralizing everything, except Damiana's voice.

Heaven.

I'm in heaven.

And the cares that hung

around me through the week,

seem to vanish

like a gambler's lucky streak

when we're out together,

dancing cheek to cheek.

They both laughed out loud, running past their parents, who had already been talking for a while.