#Damian Wayne visits Jump for a business trip

[shakespeareallanpoe]

Celebrity Crush AU

idk why but the idea that in an alternate universe Raven somehow was never told Batman or Robin's secret identity and as a teen developed a not-so-slight crush on the very private, animal-loving billionaire Damian Wayne is almost as enticing as Robin KNOWING she has a lock screen of him and follows his socials and every so often cryptically dropping hints about his ideal gf which ofc is just him describing Raven.

Raven: *comes to training with a slight lovesick smile on her face*

Everyone else: WTF 😶

Robin, internally: Ah, I see she's seen my post about preferring bookworms for their inquisitive minds. Excellent. In two weeks I shall proceed to phase 2.

Alternatively,

Robin, painstakingly spending an hour crafting the perfect post for Raven to stumble on later: This is exactly how you flirt. Father simply has no idea what he is doing when it comes to women. Thank goodness I didn't get this from him.

[aingeal98]

Since I love using tumblr for batfam headcanons and plot ideas that I'm probably never going to develop fully, here's another one: Bruce offhandedly mentions one day that it would be nice if Cass bonded more with her two younger brothers. It's great that she's got that synergy going with Tim but he wants Duke to feel fully accepted into the family and Cass is currently closest to him, not to mention Damian could use all the good role models he could get. Cass being Cass is like challenge accepted old man and takes Duke and Damian off for a full day of sibling bonding

Things that happened during the next 24 hours:

-A brawl broke out on stage at Gotham theater during a Hamilton performance. Witnesses say the fight was started by an actor insulting the youngest of Bruce Wayne's children when he complained too loudly about the content of the play. The argument soon got heated with one actor throwing a prop button at Duke Thomas, Bruce Wayne's foster son. This caused his foster sister Cassandra to jump up on stage and initiate physical violence, with the youngest Wayne joining her and yelling about how the founding fathers were all pathetic racists. All three are now banned.

-Gotham Zoo saw its largest ever breakout with many of its endangered species vanishing. Witnesses say the animals were honest to god airlifted into a massive cargo plane by men in black clothing following the instructions of Damian Wayne, who claimed that they were being mistreated and deserved a conservation site that actually allowed them to thrive. He and two other Wayne children are now banned from the zoo.

-Talia Al Ghul made a brief detour to Gotham to pick up some animals at her son's request and bring them to a sanctuary that their family trusts.

-the batmobile got totalled

-the bat boat exploded

-Duke discovered a new power that let him temporarily transform his body into light to move at super fast speed.

-He did this running from Interpol after Cass crashed the batplane into the Atlantic ocean trying to take the boys to France. None of them are willing to explain to Bruce the reason they wanted to go to France.

The bat plane didn't explode but it did sink into the ocean. Atlantis is currently enjoying poking around the wreckage.

-Interpol did not recognise the trio as Waynes but recognised Duke as American. This led to them contacting the CIA who recognised Cass as an old urban legend. All three are now technically banned from France although they haven't been IDed so it's more like a "if you see someone matching this description call the police immediately." ban.

-Speaking of the police, Jim Gordon received a report that half the force in Gotham broke their legs that day. Through pure coincidence every single cop that mysteriously tripped or was injured by a mystery assailant was one who Jim knew was corrupt.

-Warehouses that were rumoured to belong to the Red Hood blew up

-Red Hood was seen shooting at some of the bat vigilantes and yelling at them to fuck off. He then yelled that he wasn't talking to the Signal, who was welcome to visit anytime as long as he didn't bring the other two.

-A warehouse in Bludhaven belonging to the Penguin blew up.

-Three Vegas casinos went out of business due to Bruce Wayne's daughter winning every round while accompanied by her two younger brothers. The casinos set their hired muscle on the siblings to try and get their money back. This did not end well for the hired muscle.

-Bruce Wayne decided to never, ever encourage Cass to bond with her siblings again.

[artxyra]

Desperate Shipping Calls for Desperate Measures

Pretending to like Adrien may have been the worst decision of her life.

—–

It started when their mothers, Sabine Cheng and Emilie Graham de Vanily, met when they attended university. They were roommates and best friends. They did everything together, from studying to going out to parties. It was all that mattered between the two. That was until they fell in love.

Sabine began dating the baker’s son, while Emilie found interest in a business mogul whose focus is fashion. The two couples slowly began doing everything together. Double dates were a common thing.

After graduation, the two couple went their separate ways. Gabriel went on to start his own fashion company while Emilie focused on her acting career. Tom and Sabine took their in-home bakery and turned it into a storefront. Yet, they still managed to make time for group events.

Everything was perfect for their little group until their businesses grew on international levels.

Sabine and Tom jumped to stardom after participating in a baking contest in England and joined other celebrities in the food industries, specifically the pastries.

The people loved when Emilie was on the big screen or stage, as Gabriel expanded on his fashion company, Gabriel Designs, despite its rocky startup.

Soon the family of twos welcomes their new members: Adrien and Marinette. Adrien was born several months before Marinette. Both heirs were smiling and babbling babies, filling the households with laughter and joy.

Growing up, the two would spend the day at each other’s homes when their parents were on business trips. They grew to see each other as brother and sister. Marinette had asked her parents about going to her big brother’s house, and when asked who was she talking about, with the brightest of smiles, she said Adrien. Sabine and Emilie cried together when they realized that their children had taken to calling each other siblings.

When Adrien and Marinette were five, their parents received an invitation to a Wayne Gala event in Gotham, New Jersey. It was their first time going to the United States.

Despite being strictly business, Sabine and Tom quickly became friends with a Mr. Bruce Wayne. Though to Marinette, it was an opportunity to gain new siblings. Dickie and Tim Tam slowly became frequently used names in her vocabulary. Sadly, Adrien felt jealous of the two and entered a competition regarding Marinette’s favorite brother.

All was fine until Mari met the latest addition to the Wayne family when she was close to ten. Damian Wayne.

He wasn’t like the others, and she had met plenty of the adopted and non-adopted Waynes over the years. He was rude, always looking like he was out to get the world. His posture was always tense, almost like nobility. However, what Damian never expected was her determination.  

She had the utmost pleasure in breaking through to the older boy. Her challenge every time she visited was to get him to laugh. She didn’t exceed.

When Adrien met the young Wayne, he screamed and hid behind Marinette, who (at the time) was taller than the two boys. Adrien hugged Mr. Kitten, his stuffed black cat, like a lifeline until Alfred had called the three kids for lunch. He swears that Damian could see through into his soul. Marinette believes that Adrien’s reaction was from Damian unknowingly placing his dominance.

Reaching their pre-teen and early teen years, Damian took a liking to Marinette and had developed a crush on her. His older siblings found it hilarious when they caught the apathetic teen lightly blushing at any mention of the Parisian girl. So, of course, they had a ball in making it their job to embarrass their young brother.

Unfortunately, a family loss disrupted the Agreste household. Emilie had fallen ill and suddenly disappeared from the face of the earth. Gabriel didn’t know how to deal with the loss.

So to prevent endangering his son’s lifestyle, he ended up giving the Dupain-Cheng household temporary custody of Adrien until he figured out his next move. However, the custody move didn’t sit well with members of Emilie’s family, despite being the best move for Adrien.

After the custody transition, that was the last time anyone had seen Gabriel Agreste in public. Thankfully, Adrien had plenty of surrogate siblings and family to help him through the loss of his mother, but he also ended up losing his father in the process.

Months before Adrien and Marinette entered 8th grade, Damian has worked up the courage to ask Marinette out on a date. His actions surprised everyone, as they thought he would have waited until they were in high school (lycée).

Once the shock wears off, Marinette smiles, wrapping her arms around the taller boy’s neck. Her boys had grown to be taller, even if it was by a couple of centimeters. Everyone around them suspects that they’ll be at least 5’8” to 6’2” while Marinette would grow to be Sabine’s height at best. Not that they would mention that in front of Marinette. The little lady has a unique way of turning her sweet words into threats.

Despite their ages, the media went wild, sending the couple celebratory announcements online the second a reporter reportedly leaked an intimated image to the press. No, it wasn’t something sexual; it was a photo taken out of context. Which, surprisingly, was photographed a week before Damian and Marinette made it official. The couple’s parents promise their kids a normal relationship thinking nothing of the media interference.

It was all fine and dandy until the first day of school. Marinette and Adrien received their Miraculous within the hour of each other. But before that, Marinette knew that this would be Adrien’s first time in a public school, so she thought of a harmless prank.

Adrien was to play the oblivious friend, using Chloé as his alibi. Marinette took on the role of the clumsy, babbling, do-gooder friend. It was supposed to be for laughs and last at best until the spring holiday.

However, not even a day after they started college, Marinette had become friends with the new girl, an aspiring journalist. She’ll quickly soon regret that as what she didn’t count for was Alya’s determination.

———

“I’m fine, Dami,” Marinette says to Damian over video chat. Her attention was nowhere on her computer screen but a mannequin with a work-in-progress outfit. Adrien, in the same room with her, was being no help.

Damian raises an eyebrow. Marinette scowls and states, “I’m serious. They cannot bring me down, especially after this week.”

“She’s lying.” Adrien sings from his position on the chaise. In his hand is a wrapped-up croissant. Marinette turns to the blonde model (he’s taking a bite out of his pastry) and glares at him. Adrien stops eating and stares back at her with a what expression. Marinette rolls her eyes and returns to her project.

“If you ever feel like your sanity is lost, I will gladly put a sword through her if she doesn’t stop.” Marinette turns to Damian with an eyebrow raised. Her lips purse together, she’s thinking.

“I didn’t know you like crazy. At this rate, my sanity will be gone before graduation. And, if you haven’t placed a sword through her, I’m sure Luka would.” Marinette pauses. “Though, not with a sword. Maybe a guitar string.”

“Lulu would rather give up his ability to speak, than lose a guitar string.” Adrien interrupts. Marinette ignores him and begins to stitch together pieces of fabric.

Damian quickly chuckles. The three return to what they were doing, each talking when bored or necessary.  

“Well, your lunch is ending soon, same time tonight, your time?” Marinette states, pulling her focus away from the outfit and onto the clock. On her face is a sad smile hidden by a soft smile on her face.

“Father will understand if I ditch the other half a day.” Adrien obnoxiously coughs in the background. Damian tsk.

“Dames…” Marinette turns to her computer.

Damian smiles fondly at her. The two share a chuckle.  “I’ll go, Angel.” Damian folded. “Are we still on for tomorrow’s date night?”

“I would be crazy if I said it wasn’t.” Marinette waves goodbye to the small screen. The screen goes black, signaling the end of the call.

“So, Maribug, what are we going to do about Alya?” Adrien asks; before Marinette could reply, both of their phones dings. Adrien looks down and sees the call-id, “It’s Nino; he’s asking if I want to hang out with him and Alya tomorrow.”

Marinette sighs and sends a quick reply. She doesn’t look up from her phone when she responds. “Alya texted me about wanting to hang out with her rather than Nino.”

A beat passed, and realization set in their minds.

Together they state, “She’s setting us up again.” Groans follow through.

—–

Two weeks of planning all come down to this.

It had to work; there was no way that it wouldn’t. Alya Cesaire, the Ladyblogger, was determined to make her favorite ship, Adrienette, a reality before the end of the school year, which was coming up fast. Ever since they met in college, Marinette, not once, managed to work up the confidence to ask out the blonde model.

And what kind of friend is she for not helping her best friend get the guy? A bad one. Considering this is why she is staging her latest plan for Operation Adrienette at the Place des Vosges.

Almost everyone –that was once a part of the akuma class– sits on the green pasture, waiting for information. Alya, however, stands on a makeshift podium front and center with Lila by her side. She points to the easel with a large poster board.

“Here’s the plan. We all know that graduation is coming up soon, and I tend to make it my legacy to ensure that Adrienette becomes a reality. I have done too much for it not to happen. They have ditched us for the last time, and I planned to end that this week.” Alya states, pretending to be heartbroken. She places her hand over her heart and shakes her head. Lila awkwardly pats on Alya’s back. She stops when Alya continues to talk.

Lila couldn’t help but notice that Chloé and Juleka were missing from the meeting, and she was 90% sure that it wasn’t by design.

When she came into their class, she didn’t want Adrienette to happen. Adrien was her best bet to gain attraction due to his connection to Gabriel Designs. She, of course, tried everything within her power to make Marinette look bad, but when she tried to get Marinette expelled from college, she found out there was more to the story than a simple crush.  

Adrien came up to her during their photoshoot and practically threatened her. The message was clear: stop messing with his sister or else. She got the picture well after that encounter. Since that encounter, she made a deal with the duo, learning that there was no romantic attraction between them– just mischief.

The reason for Lila being at the park is mainly for Alya’s sake. She could care less about the plan and would have preferred a spa day with her mother. That and the rest of them are still her puppets, so she must continue playing the supportive friend.

Alya mutters something under her breath before stating, “I’m still salty about the last plan.” That statement piques the interest of her audience.

“They were supposed to have a romantic time at the ice rink, and nothing came of it. All they did was skate around the rink for a couple of hours. The most they did as a couple was drinking hot chocolate. Drinking hot, mother-freaking, chocolate. The closest intimacy I saw was a kiss on the cheek.” Alya pauses, trying to recollect herself.

“This time– I’m planning a romantic dinner where Nino and I would ditch the two for another booth. That way they are forced to interact with each other.”

“What are we, we meaning you, going to do if that backfires?” Rose raised her hand, inputting her concerns.

“I– uh– we don’t expect it to.” Alya confidently states, slapping her presentation stick in her hand.

It was a Friday night– aka the very next day– when the plan commenced.

Adrien had agreed to meet up with Nino and Alya for whatever they had planned. He ended up dressing up at the request of Alya, as she was blowing up his phone under Nino’s contact name. Not that he minds, but after the third text, it was annoying.

When he appeared at the restaurant, Adrien had a look of disinterest. To which Alya ignores downgrading it to nerves.

Alya hangs off of Nino’s arms, smiling at the model. It was creeping him out, but Adrien didn’t want to seem rude, so he smiled back.

“Why are we so dressy? If this was meant to be a simple outing with friends?” He asks even though he knew the answer already.

“We’re waiting for Marinette. She’d promised me that she’ll be here in a moment.” Alya deflects the question, “Might I say, Adrikins, you look nice in that suit of yours.” She looks elsewhere, no doubt to find Marinette. “Ah, there she is. Marinette!” She waves down Marinette, who looks irritated more than anything.

Marinette walks over to the group.

Adrien gasps, causing Alya to smile smugly at Nino. Her plan is working. Nino continues to watch the two in wonder.

Adrien’s gasps were at what Marinette was wearing. She’s wearing a v-necked checkered red and black patterned T-shirt dress with Gotham’s vigilante Robin’s icon in the upper right corner and thick heel ankle boots.

“Hey gurl, glad you can join us.” Alya pulls away from Nino, giving the poor teen his arm back. Nino then formally greets Adrien with a side-bro hug and an awkward smile.

“It’s not like I had a choice, Alya,” Marinette murmurs, but Alya heard it anyway. The blogger pulls her best friend closer.

“Of course, you did. Look you’re already here, and let’s go get to our seats.” Alya pushes Marinette towards the door and gestures for Adrien and Nino to follow.

However, before the two reach the door, Alya whispers, “Now’s your chance. Go get your man, gurl.” To which Marinette stutters out of embarrassment.

Before they were seated, Marinette noticed the two-seat table. Like that didn’t raise any red flags about this evening. In all honesty, she thought it was a double date–one table and the four of them hanging out. Then again, she should have known better.

There were only two chairs. Alya pushes for Marinette and Adrien that take that table. All this despite their outcries. She and Nino grab another table on the opposite side of the restaurant.

From where Alya sat, Marinette and Adrien both looked very comfortable. That’s a great sign. When the waiter came over, that’s where everything slowly began to fall apart.

The waiter asked the brother-sister duo if they needed anything. Marinette asks for water, and Adrien states that he’s just a stand-in. The waiter didn’t question it and walked away to get Marinette’s drink.

Alya and Nino had ordered their meals, but Adrienette had not. Marinette’s calmly sipping her water all while making conversation with Adrien. Alya was slowly getting fed up with the lack of couple-ly actions between the two. She would have stalked over there had Nino not been holding her back.

At the peak of Alya’s frustration, it all came crashing down. A tall, tan, sleek dark-haired gentleman suddenly walks over to the table. He coughs into his fist. Adrien immediately gives up his seat, but instead, Marinette gets out of her seat to hug the man. Adrien smiles at the two.

Alya sits at her table flabbergasted. Marinette had the audacity to kiss the unknown male on the lips before wishing Adrien out.

Adrien had the nerve to turn to Alya, smirking. He winks at her before walking towards the entrance and out of the restaurant.

Marinette and the male happily held hands across the table and chatted. When the waiter returned a couple of minutes later, Marinette placed her order. The waiter wasn’t surprised to see the new face.

Alya watches as the couple happily eats, seething. Anger could not describe what she was feeling. Who was this guy, and how dare he hijack a date she’d been planning for weeks? Weeks! When Nino finally gave his okay, it was after Marinette and her mystery date had left the restaurant. He will never admit that his reasoning was because the guy screams dangerous. Alya wanted to scream and shout. Scream to the heavens to let out all the anguish she was suffering from Adrienette and scream at Marinette for daring to bring another guy in while she has a crush on Adrien.

She must break them up. Consequences be damned.

—–

Alya didn’t see Marinette or Adrien for the rest of the weekend. It was not because she was busy, no. But because when she tried to reach them, they ignored her. The Ladyblogger visited the patisserie only to discover that Marinette was not home. Where was she? It’s not like Marinette to go off the grid.

Alya was a crazy mess when she returned to the classroom that following Monday morning. She was surrounded by her very curious classmates wondering how the date went. Is Adrienette finally a couple? How did the date go? The pressuring amount of questions nearly caused Alya to have another breakdown.

Keeping her cool, to which Alya did a fantastic job. Or that was until she was just about to answer the questions when Marinette and Adrien walked through the doors. All coolness goes out the window.

“You, how could you? Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get you that date?” Alya shouts at the designer as if it;’s her fault for all her problems. She would have gotten into her face if it wasn’t for Lila holding her back.

Marinette raises an eyebrow; she quickly turns to Adrien, who shrugs and sits beside Nino.

“Well?” Marinette turns to Alya, who couldn’t get a read on the designer.

Marinette squares up to her former friend; sighing, Marinette shakes her head.

“I didn’t ask to be set up with Adrien, Alya. Nor did I have ever had a crush on him. At first, it was hilarious, but now… it’s impacting both our love life.” Marinette explains before taking her seat in the back.

“Love life? Marinette, you are destined to be with Adrien. Have been since the two of you first met in this classroom several years ago.” Alya screeches, but her cries go unheard by the two siblings.

“Maybe you should cool it, Alya. Class is about to start.” Lila states, tugging on her friend’s arm. Alya looks at the clock on the wall and scowls, cursing the bell.

The teacher walks in and demands the class to sit down. Alya turns to Marinette and mouths, “This is not over,” to which Marinette shrugs and absently sketches in her notebook.

Alya couldn’t get a one-on-one conversation with Marinette at the school. She, of course, is infuriated. So, she planned for another meeting in the Place des Vosges that following weekend. However, this time on her way to the park, she saw something she didn’t want to see.

Andre’s ice cream cart was in the area, and Marinette just so happens to be walking hand in hand with the same male from the failed date attempt. They were looking all lovey-dovey and stuff. What was worse was the ice cream flavors (colors). It practically matched Adrien’s from when they last had Andre’s ice cream as a group. Alya growls, her face turning red from the heat of her anger. That’s it; the gloves are on now.

“I have called you all here because it has come to my attention that all my hard work is going unnoticed. Marinette has had the audacity to be around another man knowing that Adrien is her forever. That ends today.” Alya states, standing in front of the remaining members of team Adrienette, practically the majority of her classmates. They whisper amongst themselves, unsure how to answer the reporter.  

Alya nods, knowing her plan is working, “Our job for the next couple of days is to take incriminated photos of Marinette. I need to gather as much evidence to break up our gurl and this supposed boyfriend of hers.”

There is a pause. The silent question for suggestions lingers amongst them.

“Oh, I’ve seen Marinette with these two men lately outside of school. I think there’s something going on between them. You don’t think she’s going something scandalous, do you?”  Lila lies through her teeth, but who was she to turn down a good opportunity for drama. Sure, she already knows the truth, but Alya didn’t know that.

“Someone that isn’t this suppose boyfriend of hers?” Alya pushes with a mischief glint in her eyes.  

Lila nods, still feigning innocents. It’s not like she’s hurting anyone. Though, she might be hurting herself in the long run once Marinette finds out what she did.

“Good. That is excellent news.” Alya clasps her hands.

———

It wasn’t excellent news. It wasn’t at all.

——–

The first attempt was a disaster in the making. Alya didn’t think it through for several reasons. A couple of days after the meeting, she and Nino had noticed that Marinette was spending more time with Marc. They hadn’t seen the boyfriend in a while, which to them was perfect.

Every day, Marinette met up with Marc during lunch. The two consistently talked, though Marinette was sketching something in her sketchbook. And whenever Alya gets near them, Marinette closes her sketchbook and dismisses her.

Since Nathaniel was the closest to Marc, she sent him to take the photos and investigate. Let’s just say the results were not in his favor.

It turns out that Marc was commissioning a scarf with a matching tablet cover for Nathaniel. Their anniversary was coming up. Marc wasn’t happy; he was furious when Nathaniel told him. Marinette was his friend; how dare he try and use him for something so pitiful.

It finally dawned on Alya that everyone in the school knew that Marc and Nathaniel were in an item. And since Marinette is a designer, she works with lots of people regardless of gender, so of course, she would hang around other males.

Realizing that she’ll have to be picky with her choices on ways to make Marinette look like a cheater, she had to dig deep. Luka? She’ll have to save him for the last resort. Alya still remembers the last conversation she and Marinette had over Luka. The latter was head over heels for the musician.  

Alya couldn’t have been more frustrated than she we tried to go through with her second attempt. For a week, Marinette was with her boyfriend and close friends. Weren’t they close friends?

Anyone around Alya could see the invisible tick marks across the reporter’s head.

“Alya? Are you okay?” Her teeth grind together at the question Marinette had asked her during class. It was no secret that her pencil broke into two. She smiles back at Marinette and asks: what her plans are for the weekend. To add salt to her aching mind, Marinette says, she was spending time with Adrien and Luka. Uh– what?

It was a lie.

With her phone in hand and her supporters behind her, Alya followed Marinette throughout Paris. Only to find out that Marinette was not spending any time with Adrien and Luka but with Chloé and Kagami instead. Sure, Marinette was also into girls, and it could have played well into her plan. But Alya feared Kagami putting a blade through her more.

Back to the planning board.

Alya lost count of how many attempts she had gone through before resorting to one of her last options–Luka Couffaine. He was perfect. Well, not perfect, but he and Marinette had chemistry. That has to count for something. Right?

Holding her head high, she approaches the one person she hasn’t seen during their group meetings. When was the last time the two of them spoke? It couldn’t have been that long ago. Could it?

“Hey, Juleka…” Her voice lingers, feigning innocence.  

“No.” Juleka didn’t even face her. Rude.

“C’mon, he’ll agree to do it if you’re the one asking. Please, Jules.”

Juleka huffs, rolling her eyes and placing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll see what I can do, but don’t blame me for the outcome. Also, don’t call me Jules.”

Alya smiles cheekily, not realizing the fault in her plan.

The next day, Juleka struts up to her and states, “Yeah…, I forgot to mention that Luka is in a committed relationship. Sorry.”

“What!” The reporter’s voice echoes in the school’s hallways. Her voice alone created an opening in the halls as she ran after Juleka once the shock wore off.

There had to be something better. Bigger. Yeah, something bigger that would break up the couple. It couldn’t be normal– it had to be perfect.

After everything she went through to stage Marinette as a cheater to her so-called boyfriend, Alya finally struck gold.

It was a victory that no one would have expected. That’s because it had happened randomly. On a whim, in fact. Nino had suggested that they go on a stress relief night stroll.

They had caught Marinette in the streets, leaving a building with two unknown men. The two men appeared older and more dangerous (well, one of them at least). The one with a white-streaked in his hair offered Marinette his jacket. She takes it.

Alya had to double-check with Nino to confirm that neither of them had ever seen the two males before in Paris. With a firm nod, the reporter knew she had the perfect story.

Grabbing her phone and opening the camera, she began to work her magic.

Instead of posting the images immediately, Alya followed the three, gathering as much incriminating evidence for her plan to come together.

Too bad her peers didn’t think the same. Anyone familiar with Marinette knew had seen the two males and Marinette from time to time. The two males were regulars at Marinette’s family bakery and have been for years. To them, the gossip from the akuma class meant very little.

Despite having several incriminating footage and photos, Alya favors the video where the three subjects are in the park throwing a frisbee. One of the males came up behind Marinette and spun her around before placing a kiss on her cheek. Marinette giggles, then return the gesture with a kiss on the cheek before grabbing the frisbee out of his hand and tossing it to the other.

Downloading the edited video, Alya knew this would be her masterpiece. She was ready to take on the world. All she needed was the perfect opportunity.  

She didn’t have to wait long.

Alya had caught Marinette and the alleged boyfriend sitting underneath a tree at Place des Vosges. Marinette was sitting between his legs, sketching something down in her sketchbook. The perfect couple’s picture.  

Alya ignores Nino’s disagreeing outcries to races across the street.

Approaching the couple confidently,  Alya states the following, “Your girlfriend here is a cheating bitch.”

Marinette stops sketching and turns to her boyfriend, then back to Alya. She doesn’t say a word, probably cussing out Alya in her head.

Alya freezes. She’s unsure what to think about the lack of emotions showing between the couple.

“What makes you think that of my beloved.” The male asks, raising an eyebrow.

Marinette made no moves to leave her spot, though she does start to pack up her things.

Refinding her confidence, Alya pulls a power move, “I got evidence.”

He didn’t seem convinced.“Pray tell.”

Alya digs into her purse, pulls out her phone, and touches the screen furiously.  

Finding what she was looking for, she held the phone to the boyfriend’s face.

“Do you mind if I–“

“Yes, everything in this fold proves my point.”

He takes his time examining the evidence. Leaving little to no facial expressions.

A minute passed. Then another. Maybe she can win this, and her Adrienette ship will be sailing by the end of the day.

A sigh exits his lips as he pushes the phone into Marinette’s hand. Her eyes widen.

Oh!

Marinette coughs, trying to hide her awkward snickering.

Another pregnant silence. The scrolling continues.  

“So that’s why they were here. I really need to place boundaries on those idiots.” He says thoughtfully.

“Don’t you dare.” Marinette counters, playfully hitting the male’s chest. “I actually enjoy spending time with them.”

Ah, what? Hundreds of questions began to arise within the blogger’s mind.

“Your poor skills in journalism, seemed to caught my Habibti with my idoitic older brothers. Those photos that you have of them are without consent. That video of them has poorly used VFX. I could press charges against you on their behalf.”

“I give credit where it’s due, Alya, this might be your best attempt yet.” Marinette states, standing up to pat the blogger on her back. “Did Lila put you up to this?”

“Wha–?” A squeak exits Alya’s lips.

“If Rossi did, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to cross a Wayne and Agreste.” The dark-haired male mutters.

“Damian…” Marinette sighs, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be too hard on her. Rossi’s just as much as a player in this little game of ours than most.”

“Lila? Game? Player?” Alya was losing every ounce of confidence she had.

“Hey Mars, look who I found.” Adrien hollers from afar.

“Dude…” Nino? How she could have forgotten her boyfriend. Alya scurries over to Nino to be in his arms. Maybe having his presence will save everything.

“Hey Nino, long time no see.” Marinette greets the DJ as Damian grunts sending Adrien a look of acknowledgment.

“What am I, chopped liver?” That voice was too familiar.

Not wanting to add fuel to this trainwreck, Alya refused to look up.

Her stubbornness got the best of her. She looked over and saw Adrien standing hand-in-hand with Luka. Since when were they that closed?

Adrien rests his head against Luka’s chest, giving Marinette a warm smile. There’s hope for her ship.

That ended with a single kiss. The blogger screams. How could all this go so wrong? Just yesterday, everything was like it was at the start of their 8th-grade year. And now, it was a loaded mess.

“Dude when did this happened?” Thank kwami for Nino.

Adrien rubs the back of his neck, sending Nino a sheepish smile.

“For a while now, but not as long as Marinette has been with Damian. Those two have been dating since Mars’s thirteenth birthday and been going strong ever since.” Marinette hums as Damian kisses her cheek. She’s practically glowing.  

“But…but,” Alya stutters. Her brain could not comprehend the situation.

Marinette steps in front of Alya and looks her dead in the eyes.  

“Alya, dating Adrien would be like dating my brother. Which practically it is, considering we’ve been friends since we were in diapers.” Marinette then adds more fuel to the fire, “You and the class would have noticed had you not been set on this Adrienette ship.”

Adrien also decided to add in his two cents. “Yeah, a simple search online and you would see photos of Mari and me at galas, movie premieres, fashion shows. She and Damian have been in news coverage from the first time they announce their relationship to their recent engagement announcement.” Marinette blushed at the thought of the now visible giant ring on her ring finger.

“Alya, in a different universe I would proudly be Adrien’s girlfriend,” There’s a pause, a false moment of hope, “But it’s not this universe.”

Her knees gave in. If it wasn’t for Nino, Alya would have hit the ground. She watches the nearly engaged couple walk out of the park and in the direction of the bakery. A string of unidentifiable words leaves her lips in mumbles.

“Better luck next time, Alya,” Adrien smiles before he and Luka follow the two, but not without waving goodbye to Nino.

Alya remained lost for words.

Her ship will never become canon. All her hard work was for nothing–a false dream. Breaking free of Nino’s grasp, she falls onto the green pastures.

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

Rewrite of Request #19. 

[yannowhatigiveup]

Day 3: Attention

Oops, I posted late. Sorry

Marinette walked down the hall to Damian's room, the door was open but she knocked anyway. She heard a faint "Come in, Angel." and walked into the room, shutting the door behind her. There gaze landed on her boyfriend, who was at his desk. He had been there for nearly three days straight, Marinette wasn't exactly sure if he had slept. The girl went over to the bed, sitting next to Alfred the cat.

"You're still not done with that?" She asked him and Alfred got comfortable on her lap.

"Unfortunately not, mon amour." Damian replied, looking over some cctv footage. A few days ago, Tim, Bruce and Barbara, had begun a case that they needed to get finished before Christmas. But he had an unexpected mishap which forced him to visit one of the branches of Wayne Enterprises, leaving the other two to work on it. What they didn't know was that Damian was helping as well, despite Bruce saying that he shouldn't get involved.

"Does Bruce know about this?" She already knew the answer, she didn't know why she even asked.

"Father is busy with his business trip, it's best that he remain undisturbed." The teen replied quickly, Marinette frowned to herself. She understood that he just wanted to prove that he could help, but he wasn't going the right way about it. In all honestly, he was becoming like her, always staying up late to finish a project while running on five cups of coffee. Actually, he was becoming like Tim. Marinette desperately wanted him to take a break and she had tried, but every attempt was a failure.

Marinette sighed, running her fingers through Alfred's fur. Then the cat stood up, jumped off of the bed and onto Damian's desk. The cat purred and the teen looked over at the feline, scratching his head. Alfred purred and jumped onto his owner's lap, ready to take a catnap. Damian paused, smiled at his pet's actions and continued on with his work. Marinette froze, an idea forming in her mind. She looked at the time, it was just past midday.

She stood up. "I'm going to get something to drink, you want anything?"

"I'm fine, Angel." Damian replied, flicking through some of the tabs he had.

"Okay then." Marinette went over to Damian's chair and hugged him from behind. "Don't take too long on this." She kissed his cheek and he grabbed her hand before she pulled away.

"I promise I'll finish this as soon as I can." Damian vowed, bringing her hand to his lips. Marinette smiled and left the room, going downstairs. Her plan was going to work.

~~~

Damian sighed, he hadn't expected for this case to impede his time with Marinette but since he had started it, he had to finish it. He wanted to prove to his family that he could be of use for these types of things, this case would be the perfect opportunity. However, he had underestimated how complex the whole thing would be, and he knew he was so close to finishing it as well. All he needed was the drug lord's real name and he would be done. The sound of a door opening caught his attention.

"Dami?" Damian felt his body relax at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. "I need your help with something."

He swerved around in his chair, safely setting Alfred the cat down on the floor and immediately standing up away from his work. Sure, it was important, but Marinette's importance was far beyond that of some silly case. "Of course Angel, what is it?"

"I need you to do something for me." She walked passed him, standing in a different part of the room. He move to stand next to her.

"Alright..." He sounded skeptical, but he was opposed just yet. "What do you need me to do."

Instead of answering, she took a step closer, closing the small gap between them. Her hands reached up to his shoulders, he saw her get onto the tips of her toes. Her face got dangerously close to his own. Damian gulped, curious as to what she would do next, when he was violently shoved onto the bed. He blinked, eyes wide. "Wh-"

"You wouldn't rest, so I'm forcing you to." Marinette smiled at her boyfriend, climbing onto the bed to lie down next to him. She rested her head on his chest, eyes closed, wrapping her arms around him. "If your wondering, I needed you so I could get comfortable. I'm tired."

Damian looked down at her and sighed. "Of course. Rest well, my love." He placed a kiss on her forehead, shifting his position so that both of them could be comfortable. Gently, he stroked his fingers through her hair, smiling down with his love-filled gaze. She was so stubborn, just as he was, it was one of the things that brought them together in a way. But she had him in mind, something that was of great honour to him. Damian always told himself the she was way out of his league, this was just one of the many examples. Taking her hand to his lips one more time, Damian let his head rest on the pillow, allowing sleep to take over.

[antarax]

𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

It's late at night when Damian makes a stop by your house with the intention to confess his feelings for you.

Damian Wayne x Black!Reader, gender neutral.

Words: 2,105

AN: Happy Valentine’s to all the beautiful black people in the fandom!! I dedicate this one to all of us, who rarely get any works that include us or are actually vague enough to. Hope you enjoy it 💞

It was a quiet, cold night in Gotham. Neon city lights blurred into your room as the muffled sounds of the videogame on the old TV kept you company, the blue hue of the fluorescent lights washing over your bedroom even through half-pulled curtains. 

The day had been a slow and uneventful one. For you, at least, after the hope of receiving someone's valentine had been completely blown off, the same energy manifesting itself in you as the night also dragged itself along. 

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of your window opening, having had no expectations of anything more for the day –that, and the fact that it was well into the night already. You saw Damian standing outside with his hand on the window sill, a bag in the other, Robin uniform dirty and tattered as his cape fluttered violently with the breeze. 

He seemed stuck in his place, as if he had been the one surprised, frowning like he hadn't expected you in your own room. 

The slight semblance of a smile grew on your face, "Well, come in," you said, pausing the game. 

It wasn't uncommon for Damian to stop by your building after a busy night, the moon shining beautifully in the sky and the clouds a beautiful swirl of the light as he came through your window expertly quiet. But, even then with the known comfortability and trust you two had managed to reach in your relationship, it also wasn't uncommon to feel like remnants of the younger, more insecure Damian still clung to him slightly. 

Slightly as in  heavily. 

You watched him as he moved into the small space and set down the bag on the floor, taking off his gloves and mask with the rough delicacy you associated with him. 

He stood as if he was tightly wound up, like perhaps he could breathe wrong, or whatever new, unspoken rule he'd created for himself plagued his mind now. 

It was a little funny. 

"I'm not going to eat you, you know?" 

Damian rolled his eyes, "I'm aware." 

"Doesn't look like it," You muttered, glancing down at the controller in your hands, "What's in the bag anyways?" 

"I— Things." 

You raised a brow. 

"Food, sweets. Drinks." 

"Really?" 

"Yes," Damian replied, sitting down and sagging against the wall underneath the windowsill, chest rising and falling slowly as he exhaled deeply. Damian grabbed the bag again, putting it down next to you, "They're yours." 

You set aside the controller and rummaged through the bag, the thoughts racing in your head. Damian knew you well and you him, your friendship spanning over a few years now. There had been a lot you'd trusted him with. Secrets, worries, embarrassing shit you'd done that still haunted you and Damian had been no different. He let you in on his bigger secret, how he carried the mantle of Robin every night. Some of his deepest remorses were ones that you had knowledge of; although never diving too deep in the murky waters of Damian’s life, you still valued the clear trust he had in you. 

And along all these moments, every opportunity you've had to know each other, slowly and softly peeling aside the layers covering the people you were, a warm intimacy rooted itself in your growing friendship. A comfortable sort of intimacy. 

Every once in a while you stopped by the manor on the quiet days where it was only Alfred and the animals. You helped Alfred in the kitchen whenever he was practicing for a new recipe or baking a dessert for the family later in the day. You spent hours with Damian in his room, where his cat Alfred would always curl up next to you on his bed as he worked on his art, walking around the manor or playing around with Titus and Batcow in the manor's backyard –which, really, was just an enormous open field that they were too humble to call so– and sometimes you'd even earn an invitation to dinner. 

As for you, Damian tended to visit at night more so than day, but there were moments where he would show up on a sunny afternoon when everyone else wasn't home, slumping down on your couch for an hour or two before going back to his own things. Sometimes he'd drop by books he'd seen at the library, a small trinket he'd bought at the store and various other paraphernalia that, somehow, you always ended up loving. 

Damian knew your taste well, and there was no doubt he'd spend countless amounts of time pondering over each of his gifts before they ever reached your hands. All things that while anyone else might have brushed over you appreciated immensely. 

"You know," you began as you leaned back into the foot of your bed, ripping off pieces from a napkin you'd taken out of the bag, buying time. Hesitating, "I actually— sort of, was hoping for a valentine this year." 

You gazed at Damian's eyes, your interest boring into them, digging as deep as you were allowed. They looked nervous, hilariously so. Almost like he'd been caught. But caught... doing what, exactly? 

Perhaps caught in the middle of staring back at you as he'd tend to do; how he'd tend to do and assumed you didn't notice. 

Or maybe caught when he would discreetly drop off something in your room or your locker after having seen it at the store or the cafeteria and knowing immediately you'd like it, always behind the guise of simple complacency. Caught, in his true intentions, what truly made him do all these otherwise insignificant things that were much too small even for somebody as detail-driven as Damian. 

Olive-colored eyes still shifted uncomfortably in front of you as the sole giveaway of the true nervousness Damian was drowning in, refusing to show anything more of himself, even when it mattered. 

Especially when it mattered. It was frustrating. 

"You were?" 

"Yeah," You shifted in your spot, "I was." 

No one could ever, ever know something about Damian that he didn't share. It's just not something you could do. Not when it came to him. Anybody who knew anything at all about who Damian Wayne is, at his core in existence, knows it only because he's allowed them to. 

And he'd allowed you to know this too, and yet now he was hesitating. 

"You wished to have... a valentine. Anyone?" 

"Anyone." 

"You could have, easily, if you wanted it," Damian rolled his eyes. 

"I could?" You smiled, and the twinkle in your eyes was nothing short of mischievous. 

"Yes." 

"Reeeally. How?" 

Damian slouched against the wall, "Well, you'd simply have to ask," he said it as if it had been an obvious fact, "I'm sure anyone at the academy would've said yes." 

Your smile widened as you raised your brows, "Oh?" 

Damian frowned, "You are making fun of me." 

"What do you mean? How." 

Damian crossed his arms as you laughed. 

"You think I'm making fun of you," you protested, "I'm not." 

"TT." 

"There's something you want to say, isn't there? Just spit it out, Damian." 

Damian's eyes lingered all over the room. His hands had started to sweat a while ago and by then, his heart had sped up so much he was sure it was making some attempt at breaking through and out of his chest. 

Originally, his plan had been to drop by and bring you a gift, but then he'd gotten nervous and internally malfunctioned, because he'd bought a double of everything so that you wouldn't assume it had been a gift and instead just him coming by to hang out like he always did. 

He had planned to come by, tell you he'd... harbored a few unwanted feelings towards you and hoped you would have been tired enough that you wouldn't have realized it, but clearly, his plan had flipped over backwards and blown up in his face. 

Damian took as deep a breath as possible with his collar putting him in a choke hold, as if trying to push out his words while simultaneously wanting to keep them buried the deepest he could. 

"I— hm," He stared intently at the floor, for the first time in a while feeling like the small child who would trip over his own emotions again, but he was resolved to tell you, "I like you. I suppose." 

It hadn't been surprising to Damian. More that it was hard to accept. He'd mulled over it for a long, long time. In fact, the reason he'd visited you tonight, made up his mind to tell you so, had been his ridiculously embarrassing performance. 

Being surprised by petty thieves and thrown out of the loop by measly codes, none of which happen, ever, not to him at least. Damian was far above such childish mistakes, at least so he thought until he started taking a closer look at his own thoughts and realized your eyes had gone from brown to 'beautiful pools of honey', your skin a beautiful, shining shade of brown. 

He was an artist, after all. He'd spent afternoons studying his environment, the shapes and colors, how everything fit in together; you were no stranger to his thoughts. 

Which of course, you wouldn't know. If you had, you would have taken the jump much earlier. You would have never acted based off of assumption alone, but having the confirmation, well. 

By now you had to contain your smile because surely, surely, your cheeks would be sore afterwards. 

"Wow," you raised your brows in obvious mocking, "Really?" 

Damian scrunched up his face in disgust, like he'd witnessed the most foul thing yet, crossing his arms tighter but refusing to meet your gaze as he turned to the wall. 

"You know, Damian." 

"Yes?" 

"The valentine I was hoping for this year… was yours. You could've easily made a card and thrown some glitter over it and that would be the end of that." 

"A card, with glitter?" Damian snapped his head at you, seeming almost bored as he spoke in a deadpan voice, "Is that how lowly you think of me?" 

At this you did laugh, almost too loudly for one in the morning, that you had to push both your hands against your mouth. 

Damian frowned, "Please do know that if I were to ever make something so miserable, it must be because I've been replaced. Which would not happen. Ever." 

You stood, shuffling over to Damian and sitting down next to him. 

He looked pretty underneath the moonlight coming through the window, the curls over his forehead looking soft and shiny. 

Damian looked right into your eyes, for the first time that night not looking away, he was trapped now. Not truly, he could leave, but did he want to? Not at all. 

Softly, Damian touched your hand, something perhaps akin to fear in his eyes as if he still expected rejection. 

"Damian?" 

"Hm?" 

"I'm going to kiss you." 

"Oh." 

"Unless you don’t want me to." 

"Please do. I mean—" 

It was a shy and quick kiss, but so, so exciting as Damian's grip tightened around your hand and you leaned into him. 

When you leaned away, it was with a mischievous glint in your eyes. 

"Please do—" 

Damian frowned again, clearly not amused. After a few seconds though, your laugh died out. Truth is, your stomach was churning. Because, while you were very much happy and excited, you were also incredibly nervous. 

Both of you were stitching your thoughts back together, seconds of silence passing by. You were still holding Damian's hand. 

He closed his eyes, frown deepening considerably and quickly before he spoke, vile spilling out of his mouth, "A card? With some glitter thrown over it?" 

He looked downright furious, disgusted even. 

"Seriously?" 

"It's not that big of a deal," You chuckled, "Get over it." 

"Hm." 

Damian looked out the window, and you followed, the moon standing beautifully in the middle of the sky. 

Damian sighed, "I have to go." 

"Oh... okay." 

He didn't move. Neither of you did. 

Damian gave you a quick kiss again, looking absolutely scandalized when he pulled back. You stared at each other in complete disbelief before he stood up and started putting his gloves on again. 

He pressed his hands onto the windowsill and took a deep breath.

Damian looked at you, tenderly, "Goodnight, Y/N." 

"Goodnight, Damian." You smiled. 

Damian gave you a small smile, "Hm." 

You watched as he jumped off, grappling to the nearest building and laughed when you saw him standing still before disappearing into the night. 

[unmaskedagain]

Spider Vs Bird

 I worked a long time on this fic. I really liked working on it though and I hope you enjoy it

 Peter met Marinette when they were six-years-old. She had been sent to camp in New York. She had been scared to be so far away from home, and while fluent in English spoke with a heavy accent that made other kids look at her funny.

           Peter had never been away from his parents for more than a few days, ever. He wasn’t happy. He was miserable in fact.  Peter had been sitting alone behind a tree, having escaped canoeing, face hid in his knees. His wanted nothing more than to go home. He sniffled.

“Don’t cry,” A soft voice said next to him. He looked up and saw a pretty bluenette with big blue eyes and a kind smile on her face looking at him. She looked about his age. “It’s okay. Do you miss home too?”

           Peter nodded, and tried to make it look like he was crying. The other boys could be really, really mean. “I want my pops and dad.”

“I miss my mama and papa too,” Marinette said. “I’m really far away from them.”

“Where are you from?” Peter ask curiously. He hadn’t met many people from different countries before and never a kid his own age.

           Marinette played with her hair, “France. Where are you from?”

“New York City,” Peter smiled. “It’s far but not as far as Paris. Do you miss it?”

“Yep; a whole a lot,” Marinette opened the care package from her Mommy and Daddy. It just made her miss them so much more. Her grandma Gina went to this camp when she was small, and so did her dad, so they sent her there too. “Chocolate, Vanilla, or Strawberry.”

           And just like any kid, Peter didn’t ask why she was asking. “I like vanilla.”

“Are you allergic to anything?”

“No.”

           Marinette nodded and pulled out two cupcakes from her care package. It had been sent overnight. “Here you go, have one.” She handed him a big vanilla cupcake.

Peter’s eyes went wide and he gave her a toothy grin that showed he was missing one of his front tenth. “Thank!” He bite into it. “This is really good,” he said with his mouth full.

“My parents made them,” Marinette smiled then bit into her own chocolate cupcake. “They’re bakers!”

           Peter blinked at her with wide-eyes, “That’s so cool! So they cake cookies and cake and like everything right? You must get to eat as much as you want. I wish my parents were bakers!”

           Marinette just laughed. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

           Steve and Tony would get letters from his son all about the new friend he made. And get a picture of their little boy with his arm around a blue-haired.

“Her name is Marinette,” Steve read the letter. “She’s French. Her parents are the best bakers in the world who send her weekly goodie packages. They have the coolest job ever!”

           Tony blinked, “We’re superheroes.”

           When they picked up Peter a month later from camp, he was ran up to him holding Marinette’s hand, “Dad, Pops; this is Marinette! She’s the best. She really smart and funny and cool. She’s my best friend ever! And-”

           Tony laughed, “Easy there, squirt. Take a breath. Hi Miss Marinette.”

           Marinette blushed but grinned big, “Hi, Mr. Stark, sir. Peter’s really nice. Like really nice. He even stopped a big kid from killing a poor little spider. He was really brave!”

           Peter grinned, “You’re really brave. You’re the one who pushed him when he pushed me the ground. You even made him apologize. It was awesome.” He told his parents. “Can I got to Marinette’s? Please. I want to see her bakery.  Pretty please.”

“Paris is a long ways away bud,” Steve teased. “You didn’t even want to leave for camp remember.”

“Not without your Ameri-bear,” Tony added with a chuckle. “You’ve been sleeping with that old teddy bear ever.”

           They stopped laughing when they saw Peter giving them a wide-eyed look, his mouth dropped opened, with his face a bright red. Before they knew it, Peter was shoving them towards the car, “Be right back, Mari.”

           Peter glared, “Don’t blow this for me.”

           Tony snorted, “Blow what? Do you even know what they means?”

“Yes,” Peter huffed indignantly, though it was a lie. “Marinette’s really, really nice. And smart. And funny. She doesn’t think I’m weird. Or too smart or anything. And she’s so pretty. Like really, really pretty.”

           Steve cooed, “Aww, you have a crush on Marinette.”

“NO!” Peter shouted. His face back to a bright shade of red.

           Tony smirked, “So I shouldn’t send out the wedding invitations then?”

           They were there for every milestone of Peter’s life; the day he was born, the day he crawled, his first word, his first steps, his first lab explosion, his first missing tooth, and his first day of school. Now they were baring witness to the first time Peter visibly looked to be contemplating murder. Unfortunately, it was at them.

“Mari’s parents are really cool,” Peter stated. “Just be cool like them.” Then he ran back to Marinette.

“I’m Tony Stark,” Tony said incredulously.

“I’m Captain America!” Steve said at the same time.

           Still, they ended up meeting the rest of the Dupain-Cheng family, and found them delightful.

           It was from that summer on that the Avengers got used to seeing Peter and Marinette running around the tower together. Peter also got used to be teased for his supposed crush on his best friend. Natasha ended up taking Marinette under wing and training her in combat and the art of spying.

           However, it was only two years later, when the Avengers responded to an intruder alert and found Marinette standing over a hogtied Nick Fury, with a fierce look on her face and Peter looking proud, that Tony said two magical words:

“I ship it.”

           Damian Wayne met Marinette when they were ten-years-old. Damian had only been living with his father for five years but still had trouble acting like a normal kid. The life of a league of shadows member was hard to break from; especially if it’s ingrained from a young age. He had been chastised more than a few times for leaving off on his own, especially in a place like Gotham.

           When Alfred informed them that an old friend and business associate was coming to visit with her granddaughter, a girl Damian’s age; it was to no one’s surprise when his father took him aside and made him promise to be polite.

           The woman Gina had showed up in the beginning of summer. She arrived on a motorcycle that had been so loud they heard as soon as she pulled up to the house. Alfred had answered the door with a chuckle.

“Penny!” The woman exclaimed and jumped at him with a hug. She had short silver, nearly white, hair and dressed mostly black and had a studded black leather jacket on and boots. “Ugh, still as boring as ever, I see,” Gina said once she pulled back from the hug.

“Gina,” Alfred smiled. “You haven’t change a bit.”

           Gina just laughed, and turned her attention to Bruce, “Brucie; I heard you took my advice to go exploring the world. How’d you like it?”

           Bruce smirked, “It was… educational.” He had known Gina since he was a boy, having spent a few summers with Tom, even gone to his and Sabine’s wedding. The woman hadn’t been to visit since Bruce adopted Tim and Cass. “You remember my boys?”

“Dick,” Gina said pulling the oldest Wayne boy into a tight hug. “You get more handsome every time I see. So sorry to hear you and Barbs broke up. I know some amazing girls I can introduce you to.”

           Dick just laughed, “I’m fine flying solo for now.”

“Jason,” Gina said crossing her arms, with a raised eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you since I let you steal my last motorcycle.”

           Jason smirked, “let me?” The only reason he’d happily come to the Manor was because Alfred told him Gina was on her way. She was the coolest lady he knew growing up.

“Oh please,” Gina waved him off. “You drove it to the Barnes and Nobel’s on 4th, and it sat there for like three hours. I have a tracker on my stuff, kid. I let you. Now give me a hug.” Jason laughed and hugged her.

           The same went for Tim and Cass. Cass excitedly told Gina in Chinese all about her adventures in Hong Kong. Tim told her about his trip around the world. Then finally it was Damian’s turn.

           Gina smiled softly at the youngest of Bruce’s kids, “And who’s this?”

           Bruce put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “This is Damian.”

“Nice to meet you, Damian,” Gina said.

           Damian nodded stiffly, “Pleasure.” He wore a black tailored dress pants and a high collard green turtle neck.

           Gina rolled her eyes, “God, Bruce, he’s nearly as uptight as you were at his age.”

“I was not uptight,” Bruce defended, despite knowing he was bratty little shit when he was Damian’s age.

           Alfred snorted but smiled, “And the young guest you brought with you.”

           Gina grinned and held out her hand to her granddaughter who had stayed close to the motorcycle, “She’s a bit a shy.” She told them. “This is Marinette.”

“Hi!” Marinette waved shyly, blushing a bit.

           The family cooed at the sight of the little blue-eyed, bluenette, in a baby blue shirt with a yellow happy face and dark jean short, with her hair in pigtails and big smile on her face. So innocent, so sweet. Bruce, of course, had been acquainted with Marinette. He had gone to the baby shower for her and stopped by the bakery whenever he was in Paris. The girl was the sweetest little thing.

           When Damian and Marinette got sent off to play together, only Alfred, Gina, and Bruce thought it was a good idea. Damian didn’t know why he was being punished. And certainly there were more fitting punishment than spending time with some little kid.

           He sent a cold glare at the bluenette, once they arrived in the entertainment room, “There are video games and movies over there,” Damian pointed to the TV. “Amuse yourself. Or perhaps you would prefer a coloring book and a teddy bear,” He said sarcastically.

           Marinette crossed her arms, “First of all, I would love a coloring book, thank you very much. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He snorted. “And Bruce said we should play together; get to know each other. Or do you frequently disobey an order?” If Damian was a rebel, Marinette needed to know. Because there was a fine line between rebel and troublemaker.

           Damian huffed, “Fine; let’s play a game then. How about… Mortal Kombat.” He sent her a cruel smirk. “Not the video game. Real life. It’s simple. We fight and the first person to die or cry,” He said with distaste. “Loses. Up for it?”

“What weapons do we get?” Marinette asked. Bucky and Natasha had taught her for the last four years on a variety of weapons. Though she knew it was only because of Steve’s doing that they hadn’t taught her how to use a gun yet. They even got a shield agent assigned to Paris to train her throughout the school year.

           Damian raised an eyebrow, curious. He had expected her to run screaming from the room in sheer terror, crying to her grandmother. “What do you prefer?”

“Bo staff.”

“Same,” Damian said. “Let’s take this to the backyard.”

           When Marinette yelled to her grandma that she and Damian were going to play in the backyard, Damian marveled that no one came out with questions filled with suspicious. Granted the first time Damian said he was going to go play in the backyard, he ended up in Watch Tower going over surveillance footage.

           Marinette and Damian stood ten feet apart on the grassy field, each held a long black bo staff. It was quiet. Damian had set an alarm on his phone to begin the fight. Marinette set hers to play music.

           When the loud beeping sounded and Carrie Underwood’s champion started playing, they charged at each other.

           It was a mix of attacks and dodges. Their staffs met; each putting their full force behind it.

“It is not wise to meet a Wayne in Battle,” Damian growled at her.

           Marinette rolled her eyes, “If all Waynes are as big of a jerk as you are, you must all be used to be called out to fight.”

           Damian attacks. The two kids stand in one place, trading feints, thrusts and parries with lightning speed, almost impossible to follow. The youngest Wayne was reluctant to admit, even to himself, that Marinette had no trouble matching him. “You know what you're doing, I'll give you that.”

“Not too bad yourself,” Marinette nodded.

           The two slow walked around the length of the imaginary circle. Until they were in the exact opposite of their initial positions.

“Your taste in music is terrible though,” Damian added on. Marinette let out an angry hiss like a cat and attacks,

           Their duel continued. Their staff flash and ring. Suddenly, Damian swung his staff, partially letting go. Marinette seeing the staff free sailing, ducked quickly. Not seeing Damian catch it at the last second, and then send a kick flying at her chest. Her weapon flew out of her hand. Marinette crashes to the ground, and with a quick swing her legs, sweeps Damian’s feet from under him, losing his weapon in the process.

           Marinette and Damian jumped up, right back in the fighting position. What happened next was a mix of punches and kicks, and headlocks. Until they found themselves once again across from each in their imaginary circle.

Marinette’s hair was a mess, pigtails having come lose. She was covered in welts and bruises from the staff. There was blood on her shirt and dripping her nose.  Damian didn’t look any better. His well-groomed look was gone. His turtleneck had torn. His lip was busted. There was bruising around his neck from when Marinette had wrapped her legs around it and held him in a chokehold, like Natasha had taught her, until he managed to maneuver out of it.

           Giggles burst from Marinette before she could stop them, “You look ridiculous,” She laughed.

“Shall I show you a mirror?” Damian said with a smirk. He chuckled.

           They both shook their heads, looked at each other again, and they each fell over laughing. They only stopped when the sound of applause reached their ears.

           Damian and Marinette looked up and saw the entire Wayne family and Gina watching them.

           Alfred nodded approvingly, “I see she takes after you Gina.”

“That she does,” Gina grinned. “You’re grandson could give a young you a run for your money.”

“How long after you been there?” Marinette squeaked.

           Bruce fought not to smile. “Just as the music started to play. We were going to invite you both in for ice cream.” He had been furious at first at his youngest child for deciding to spar with a civilian but the fury had faded as it became clear that Marinette could keep up with his son. There were times when he was sure one was trying to kill the other but they always held back; even if only just.

           He looked at Gina, “It’s nice to see Damian getting along so well with someone.” He would regret those words soon enough. Very soon.

           Damian and Marinette spent the next few days running after each other and trying to one up another in best surprise attacks. Bruce’s older kids took bets. Jason and Cass voted that Marinette would eventually win. Tim and Dick sided with Damian.

           One day, after lunch, Damian commented on his field trip his class was taking, “The zoo,” he wrinkled his nose. “It’s barbaric. Animals trapped in cages while less human beings gawk in amusement. There’s a new wolf exhibit my teacher is dying to see. It’s all terrible.”  

           Marinette agreed. While she liked the zoo, she always thought the animals looked really sad. She took a sip from her juice box, “So let’s do something about it.”

           That night, after midnight, the two kids climbed out of their windows, onto the roof, and quietly raced into the darkness. When they made it to the Zoo, they wasted no time in disabling the security cameras and breaking in the wolf exhibit. Damian, dressed in his the Robin costume he wasn’t supposed to have yet, managed to calm the wolf down as Marinette, dressed in mostly black with a red mask on, stole a truck (something she learned from Clint.) By the time security managed to get the cameras working again the kids and wolf were gone. All without a trace.

           The kids, and wolf, ditched the truck about a mile from the manor and raced home. They snuck back in through the tunnels of the Batcave that let the batmobile move securely without anyone seeing it.

           However, when they finally got to the Batcave, they were met with the exasperated looks of Batman and Alfred and the highly amused looks of Gina, Nightwing, Redhood, Blackbat, and Robin.

           Damian nodded slowly, not even bothering to try to hide the giant wolf, “Father, I decided that Marinette should stay for summer. She is much more pleasant than I originally thought. And don’t worry, Marinette figured out you were batman her third day here. She even found the cave all on her own.”

           Batman narrowed his eyes. He took of his cowl. He had been alerted that his son and Marinette were missing from their rooms just seconds after he was alerted about a break in at the zoo. He knew his son well. And it didn’t take a genius to be two and two together. “Grounded! One week.” He looked at Gina who nodded in agreement, though the smile was still on her face.

           The kids huffed but nodded.

“And wolf is going back!” That was met with loud protests.

           Marinette stayed at the Wayne Manor for another month. Not long after the grounding was over, Damian came into the living room where his father and siblings were and informed his father that he was leaving, “Alfred is taking Marinette and I to the movies. There is a showing of the new Little Mermaid movie she desires to see.”

           Bruce closed the book he was reading, “Very well. I’ll tag along. We can make a family day out of it.” Dick was the first to agree followed shortly by the others, who wanted to see the havoc Marinette and Damian tended to create.

           Damian visibly froze, “No, father.” He stated firmly. “I had… hoped it would be just Marinette and I. We can be trusted, I assure you.”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” Bruce started but Jason interrupted him.

“No! Way!” Jason yelled, his eyes wide with a sudden realization, and a grin his face. “You like her.”

           It was the entire room’s turn to freeze. All eyes on Damian who had blush slowly creeping onto his face. “Marinette has proven herself to be a strong and intelligent ally. She is worthy of my regard.”

           Jason shook his head, “No. You like her, like her.”

“I have come to value her friendship highly,” Damian said but the deepening redness of his face told a different story. He went to elementary school, he knew what like-like meant.

           Dick cooed, “Baby bird has a crush.”

“I do not!” Damian hissed.

           Cass snickered, “It is alright. Marinette is quite lovely.”

           Tim smirked, “And she has rather nice green eyes. A bit dull though.”

“Blue!” Damian corrected quickly. “She has marvelous blue eyes. They are not dull. They shine brighter than the sun. They sparkle when she laughs, you dolt.”

           Silence filled the room. Damian looked horrified at his words. Bruce looked at his young son with raise eyebrows and a small smile on his face.

“I am leaving now, father,” Damian stated. “I will return as soon as the movie ends provided we do not stop for frozen yogurt. Good day.” And then he swiftly left the room, leaving his siblings snickering in his wake.

           Bruce opened back up his book, “I ship it.”

           The declaration caused the room to fill with shouts.

           Marinette would spend half of every summer for the next few years in Gotham; training with Damian under the guidance of Batman himself. Eventually going onto meet the rest of the Justice League. She and Damian used the zeta beams to hang out as much as possible.

The other half of her summers, Marinette spent in New York City at Stark Tower with Peter and the rest of the avengers. Learning under the tutelage of The Black Widow and The Winter Soldier, two out of four of Peter’s godparents (the others being Rhodey and Pepper of course), while Peter learned under his parents.

Damian officially became Robin at 12. Peter became Spider-man at fourteen. And Marinette became Ladybug at 13. It was to no one’s surprise the two boys were the first ones she told about being a superhero. And it was not to her surprise when they couldn’t keep it from their families for long.

“Aww, look you two match,” Tony said upon seeing Marinette transform. “Couples costumes.” The genius would later admit he had that mouth webbing coming. He still ship Peter/Marinette so hard.

           Three weeks later, Bruce had said, “A little bright, isn’t it?”

“Do I even need to mention the first Robin costume?” Marinette snapped back. Though she was secretly glad that as soon as she saw the original Ladybug costume she had Tikki teach her out to change it. Gone was skintight onesie. Now she dressed in a more armored uniform. That was mostly black with bright red polka dots everywhere.

           Bruce smirked. He was proud of the girl who had become his son’s closest friend, and obvious crush. He really hoped his son would ask out Marinette soon.

           Then the Avengers and Justice League found out. Marinette found herself defending Paris with a league member or an Avenger for like six months before she finally told them where to shove it. She would call them if she needed them.  Though she didn’t mind Robin or Spiderman dropping into help every now and then when their secret identities were in town.

           Chat, who had grown become a brother to Marinette once their identities had been revealed to each other, had fanboy’d so hard the first time Robin came to help. And then again when Spiderman appeared, after catching Ladybug in a web after she’d been knocked from the top of the Eiffel tower. Then Marinette had to reveal that she knew the Avengers and the Justice league.

           It took Adrien five seconds with Peter Stark-Rogers to know he had a crush on Marinette. And he cheerfully told Peter, “I’ve got the god of destruction in my pocket. I’ll feed you to him if you hurt her.”

           It took Adrien three days to realize Damian Wayne liked Marinette. And he braced himself, held his ground, and told the teen, “You like Marinette. She’s my sister. I just want you to remember: Cats eat birds.”

           He thought it was really menacing until Damian sprayed him the face with a water bottle, “Bad kitty.”

           Adrien hissed.

           As good as Marinette’s superhero life was going, so was her fashion career. MDC was slowly become well known high-class designer and household name thanks to Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Natasha, and even Lex Luther wearing her clothes.

her normal life had gone in the opposite direction.

           Lila had come to class and lied her way to the top; she went on and on about all the celebrities she knew. She promised all the students great chances and opportunities. Only a few didn’t eat it all up. Marinette, Chloe, Nathaniel, and Adrien called out her lies relentlessly. This caused the class to think of them as jealous bullies and had them ostracized to the back at Lila’s subtle behest. Unfortunately for Lila, Adrien had been quick to join them. And nothing she, or anyone else in class, could say to convince the blond boy otherwise.

           Marinette had thought of most of the students as friends but hadn’t been too surprised when they turned against her. She had never been to close to any of apart from the ones who joined her in back. For a while she had considered that maybe Alya would become her best friend but decided against it once she learned just what type of journalist she was. The glasses-wearing girl was always out for the next big scoop and didn’t seem to care how she got it; even if it meant putting herself in danger.

           Alya had also been adamant for a long time that Ladybug and Chat Noir liked each other romantically despite both heroes denying it repeatedly. She only stopped when Chat Noir told Alya that Ladybug was his sister.

           When Lila came, like the rest of the class, Alya ate up her stories and promises of a future at famous newspapers like the Daily Planet or the Gotham Gazette.

           And when Marinette claimed Lila was lying, Alya was the first to accuse Marinette of being jealous. The girl never seemed to get the message that Marinette and Adrien didn’t like each other that way and only thought of each as siblings at best and best friends at worst. Alya didn’t listen or care. Whenever Lila gave a tear-filled eyes saying that Marinette was being oh so mean to her, Alya was the first to defend her new bestie. The rest of the class following suit.

           It didn’t take long for Marinette to be voted out of being class president. This made Fearsome four, as Nathanial had nicknamed them after he and Chloe were given permanent spots as heroes, snickered as Marinette had pulled several string to for the annual class trip; so much for the class staying at Stark Tower with the Avengers or visiting Gotham and staying in luxury hotels. Oh well.

           Once she wasn’t class president, all the little things that Marinette had done in addition to the positon had stopped as well. She stopped planning dances, fundraisers, and birthday parties (mostly because she was never invited to go to anyone’s in classes anymore.) No more free sweets from the bakery for anyone but her three friends. No free commissions. No babysitting. No banner designs. Nothing. Squat. Zero.

           This of course caused anger from the other students in class as they had gotten used to all the free Marinette provided and tasks she did.

           Alya huffed, “You’re just getting back us because we’re not your friends anymore.”

           To which Marinette replied coldly, “Your point being?”

           It was suffice to say when Marinette fifteenth birthday rolled around and Marinette’s mom forced her to give invitations to the entire class, the students were quick to rip up the invitations in front of her face.

           Lila smiled, “Sorry, Marinette. Everyone’s throwing a party for me that day. No one can come.”

“Thank god,” Marinette said to their shock because it was obvious the girl was sincerely relieved. “My mom forced me to invite you, and I had no idea how to politely tell you I didn’t really want you to come.”

           On the day of Marinette’s birthday, Saturday, while the class was enjoying their own party, Marinette just finished setting up a mock carnival with rides, games, and concession booths, and an area for bands to play.  Adrien had even gotten his dad, Nathalie, and Gorilla to come on the threat of shaving his head bald.

Then Marinette’s guests started to arrive. Marinette’s schoolmates, the ones she had started to befriend after being made an outcast in class arrived first; the drama club, the art club, the fashion club, cooking club, and the world Travelers’ club had turned out be made up of some great people.

Adrien, Chloe, and Nathaniel stayed close to Marinette side; each wearing an earpiece.

Jagged Stone in all his rock and roll glory arrived first. Clara Nightingale practically danced her way in. Lois and Clark and the rest of the Kents were a bit more subdued. Though Cat, Nadja, and Lois immediately located rivals and the three could be found gossiping and sharing stories with each other. The same could be said when Style Queen Audrey, Wilhelmina Slater, Gabriel Agreste, and Miranda Priestly. Then it was just a slew of people; from friendly neighbors Marinette grew up with to famous models and actors and chefs.

She immediately greeted Damian with a hug, and thanked him for the perfectly wrapped green present. A second later, Marinette did the same to Peter, and thanked him for the blue present.

The two boys eyed each other.

Marinette looked confused, “Damian I told you about Peter, right? I talked about him all the time. And the same for Damian, Peter.”

“You didn’t mention he was Peter Stark,” Damian stated.

“Peter Stark-Rogers,” Peter corrected. “And you’re Damian Wayne.”

And Marinette finally realized she had forgotten to do one major thing; tell the Avengers and the Justice League that Marinette worked with both of them. Or at the very least Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne who looked ready to bring out the big guns.

Both superhero teams were very much aware of the others superhero identities as the Avengers never hid theirs and Tony hacked into the Watch Tower.

Lex Luther and Oliver Queen, the third and fourth richest men in the world, looked highly amused. While Gabriel looked like Christmas had come early. He had no idea Miss Dupain. He knew allowing Adrien to befriend the girl was smart idea.

The other heroes subtly watched the two for any signs that a fight might break out. Bruce had never forgiven Tony for hacking into the watchtower and uncovering Batman identity.

“Brucie,” Tony grinned and held out his hand. “You’re looking great today. No idea you’d be here. Or that you knew Marinette.”

           Bruce shook his hand a bit too firmly, “Her grandmother is an old family friend. I was at her parents’ wedding. I was at their baby shower. I’ve known Marinette for years.”

“We met Marinette when she was five,” Tony said. “She and Peter met at camp. Aren’t they adorable together,” He nodded to the two.

           Bruce forced a grin on his face, “Not as cute as she and Damian. They’ve been nearly inseparable since they were ten. Wouldn’t be surprised if hear wedding bells in the future.”

“Of course you will,” Tony laughed. “I’m sure Marinette will invite to her and Peter’s wedding.”

           The two glared at each other.

           Their significant others just shook their heads. Selena, aka Catwoman, looked amused. While Steve looked so done with this world.

“As one of Peter’s godfather’s,” Bucky said. “Should I be offering to fight Damian’s godfather?” He joked.

           Clark glared, his eyes turning a bit red, “Anytime you want.”

           Rhodey slapped Bucky on the back, “That’s all you man.” He was not fighting Superman over a case of puppy love.

           Diana looked a bit confused, “Should I engage in mortal combat with Peter’s godmother then?”

           Pepper crossed her arms, feeling last of the extremis still pumping through her blood.

           Natasha’s eyes narrowed, “It’s not required. But I wouldn’t mind a friendly spar or two.”

“You are the Black Widow, yes?” Diana asked. “A most excellent fight it will be then.”

“Where is Shazaam?” Thor’s voice thundered. “I wish for a fight as well.”

           Billy Batson had never been so happy that he wasn’t in his superhero form before. Quietly, he made his way to the Ferris wheel. He was going to avoid the god of thunder for as long as he possibly could.

           The magic users found each and decided to compare their abilities. It didn’t go well. Clint got turned into a frog… again.

           When Fury arrived he eyed the superheroes that were there; avengers, justice league, and the ones (dare devil, Jessica Jones, the Xmen) who were mostly unaffiliated. And briefly wondered if the kid who had hogtied him was planning world domination. He wouldn’t doubt it.

           The rest of the part went really well. Chloe, Adrien, and Nathaniel watched the superheroes in attendance like hawks. And were forced to break up more than one fight, or arm wrestling match that got out of hand. It ended up trending on social media, as various celebrities had posted pictures of themselves at the party. And then suddenly the world was asking wanted to know just Who Marinette Dupain-Cheng was. Marinette took that moment to announce that she was MDC. Which blew up the story even more.

           The only downside was that Peter and Damian seemed to have entered into a competition of some sort, the same with their fathers.

           At the end of the party, when sayings the goodbyes, Marinette swore she distinctly heard, Tony hiss, “Spiderbug forever!”

“Daminette!” Bruce snarled back.

           And she had vocally asked why Bucky was giving Superman wary glances but no one would tell her. Adults were weird.

           Monday came and the entire school, and all of Paris was buzzing about Marinette’s party. When she got to class, she was met with unhappy faces of her ex-friends.

“They wouldn’t let us inside,” Alya was quick to complain the moment the bluenette stepped through the door.

“We even told them we knew you,” Nino frowned. “The Bouncers didn’t believe we were invited.”

           Marinette shrugged as she went to her seat between Adrien and Chloe, “its invitation only. What happened to your invitations?”

           All the students frowned. They had been told the same thing at the door. And had been miserable when they remembered they destroyed the invites. Even Lila had nearly shed real tears when she saw just who she had missed meeting for real.

           Alya crossed her arms, “We tried calling you. But you changed your number! How could you not tell your bestie you changed your number? When did you change your number?”

“When I realized you still had it.” It was a cold response. One that Damien would’ve been proud of. “And I’m not your bestie. We’re not friends, remember? Why did you even try to come to my party, you were too busy last I checked.”

“That’s before we saw how awesome your party was!” Kim said honestly. “Dude who knew you knew so many celebrities.”

“Prince Ali was there!” Rose said excitedly. “I really wanted to see him.”

“Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Lex Luther,” Max whined. “I was so close but so far.”

           That was pretty much how the rest of the morning went, with a side of her ex-friends trying to question Marinette about being MDC and all the celebrities she knew. Marinette didn’t answer a single question.

           Just before the lunch bell rang, there was a knock on the door, “Hello, I’m here to pick up Marinette for lunch,” Damian Wayne smiled charmingly as he walked in. “My father’s waiting.”

           The class gasped. Lila’s mouth dropped.

           A second later Peter Stark-Rogers walked in the classroom, “Marinette, you want to go to lunch,” He said excitedly. “Dad’s waiting outside.”

           Again the class’s mouth dropped.

           Outside of the school, Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark glared at each other.

           Marinette looked confusedly at her friends, “Sorry, I didn’t know you guys wanted to go to lunch. Or that you were still in town.” She told them. “It’s okay, though.” She said brightly. “You can join me and Roy.”

           As if on cue, Roy Queen walked into the classroom, a big smile on his smile, “Hey Mari, you read-Oh shit!” He said upon seeing Robin and Spiderman. The two heroes sent the Red Arrow twin glares.

           Two minutes later both Tony and Bruce’s phones pinged. They opened it and read the texts they got from their sons.

           They looked up, and met each other eyes. “We kill Oliver together,” Tony offered.

“Agreed.”

           The Green Arrow watched through binoculars from a safe distance, “Long Live Roynette!”

[alexiessan]

The brother you never asked for - One Shot

AO3

@neakco​ asked: "I saw an ask for prompts so I would like to request a sibling Jasonette where Jason is in Paris trying to win a bet with Dick over who can find the best pastries, which is how he finds/meets Marinette. Everything else is open to the freedom of your imagination."

Here is Jasonette Siblings :) 

@justafanwarrior​ @animegirlweeb​

Why was Jason running in the streets of Paris at seven in the evening again?

Ah, right. To win a bet against Dick.

The two oldest adopted children of Bruce Wayne had agreed to accompany their father on a business trip to the French capital. Damian still had school to attend and Tim was to manage the company while the CEO was away.

He didn’t really need any of his children to accompany him, but who would say no to a trip to Paris?

Bruce had a lot of meetings planned for the two weeks trip, and it took only two days for the two men to get bored. Paris wasn’t new for them and they’ve already seen all the touristic spots.

And so, they were just watching some movie in Richard’s hotel room when he had a craving for pastries.

“Let’s go to Ladurée! They have awesome macarons!” the oldest exclaimed, his mouth already watering at the thought of chocolate macaron.

Jason frowned. “Eh, really? It’s overpriced and overrated there.”

“But they are the best I’ve ever had.”

“That’s because you didn’t try to find the very best. It’s France, there are bakeries in almost every street. There must be one that makes better pastries than Ladurée.”

La maison Ladurée was a famous bakery in Paris, known for its macarons. Every tourist always ended up going there at one point or another during their stay in Paris.

While their macarons were good, it was too much of a tourist spot for Jason’s taste. There probably was a bakery out there that sold better macarons than the famous Maison Ladurée.

Urgh. Even the name sounded made him want to cringe. Snobbish much, huh?

“Then, let’s find it,” said Dick with a serious voice.

Jason looked away from the TV to face his brother. “Huh?”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Get your ass up this couch and let’s go find the best bakery in Paris!”

The second oldest of the Wayne siblings raised an eyebrow. “Do you realize how many bakeries there are in just Paris? We can’t possibly try them all.”

“You’re right. That’s why,” Dick paused, showing Jason his smartphone, “I’ve researched the best bakeries of Paris. I found two lists with a top ten of the best bakeries of Paris, and they don’t have one in common with the other!” he grinned, “so, I suggest we each take a list and try them all, and come back with a box of macarons from the one we thought was best!”

Jason looked at the list. If he tried them all and figured that the best one was one of the first he tried, it would mean going back there to buy a full box of macarons. It would be annoying to go back there again, but doable.

“What does the winner win?” he finally asked.

“Eh… Bragging rights?” at Jason’s expression, he tried again. “We’ll figure it out later.”

“Right. Then, may the best man win.”

They shook hands and were off in a matter of seconds.

This is how Jason found himself in front of the last bakery of the list — the one ranked second in the list, but it was the one the farthest from their hotel, and thus, the last one he tried — hoping it was closed yet. He really hoped this one would be the best because he wouldn’t have the time to go back to one of the other bakeries before closing time.

When he opened the door, he was met with a lot of pink. It was a cute and cozy bakery, making you want to find a seat, drink hot chocolate, and read next to the window while it was raining outside.

At the desk was a teenage girl around Damian’s age — sixteen, seventeen-year-old top — who looked visibly upset over something on her phone. When she heard him enter, she put the phone away, blinked several times to get rid of the tears that had gathered in her eyes, and smiled at him.

“Welcome to Tom et Sabine boulangerie pâtisserie! How can I help you?” she greeted him in French.

Jason made his way to the counter, looking over the different pastries. He glanced at the girl, patiently waiting for his order. She had black hair and blue eyes, half French and half Asian he guessed. She had a smile on her face, and not just a customer one, giving that she was visibly upset when he arrived, but a genuine one.

It made him want to ask her if he had to go and threaten someone, but he didn’t know the girl, and she didn’t know him, and what right did he have to ask?

“I’ll have a chocolate macaron, please,” he answered in French but with a heavy American accent.

She noticed and switched in English, which he was grateful for. He could speak French, but since he didn’t have the opportunity to practice it often, he was a bit rusty in the language.

“Of course, a big one or a small one?”

“A small one, please.”

She put the small macaron on a towel with a clamp and put it on the counter. “It will be one euro, please!”

He thanked her while paying and wasted no time in eating the small treat. The teen girl laughed when she saw him eat it in one bite.

“You know what?” he began after swallowing, deciding that this was the best one he had in his search. “I’ll take a whole box of these. I’ll even take two big ones!”

“Alright! That will be nine euros and fifty cents, please!” she said with a smile before preparing his order.

“Thanks again!” he said while handing her the money. “If the other pastries are as good as the macarons, you’ll see me again.”

She laughed. “I’m not exactly impartial, but the pastries are really, really good! So I guess I’ll see you again.”

He barked a laugh. “You can bet on it then!”

“Have a good night, sir!”

“Thanks!”

When he got back to the hotel room, Dick was already there with his own box of macarons, and they didn’t waist one more second before tasting the other’s finding.

Jason won, of course, and demanded fifty bucks as his reward.

And wasn’t it good to win a bet against his brother.

Just like he said he would, Jason came back to the bakery, with Dick with him. They tried all sorts of pastries, and even some quiches for lunch and everything was delicious. Dick made sure to note the name of the bakery somewhere on his phone so they could come back the next time they would come to Paris.

The teenage girl was still there, managing the desk and talking with the two of them when they stayed a bit longer to enjoy their food.

They learned that her name was Marinette and that she was seventeen — making her Damian’s age, just as Jason thought — and that she was the daughter of the owner. Since it was summer vacations, she helped her parents since they had more clients than ever thanks to tourism.

They learned that she was a fashion designer and that she learned English because of it. Since she wanted to start her own business one day, someone recommended that she learn English if she wanted it to be international. Speaking only one language wouldn’t do well, she explained.

While she was still in school, she had a small customer base already and did everything that needed to be done for it to be legal, and thus, was a freelance in fashion design. She was still in high school, entering her last year in September. She even expressed her desire to go to University in America, in a double major — fashion and business.

They visited the bakery every day for a week, learning to know each other a bit, but never once did she tell them anything that was upsetting her.

And Jason couldn’t help but wonder what could bring such a cheerful and positive girl like Marinette so close to tears.

It was on their last week in Paris that Jason found out.

He was on his way to the bakery to get his daily dose of pastries when he saw Marinette sitting on a bench in the park near her family’s business and home.

And she was crying.

He didn’t think about it as he made his way to Marinette and sat next to her.

“So, tell me, whose butt do I need to kick?”

She almost jumped, not having noticed him.

“God,” she breathed, “you scared me, don’t do that again.”

“My bad,” he apologized. “But tell me, what’s wrong?”

She let out a joyless laugh. “It’s okay, I don’t want to burden you with my teenage drama.”

He playfully elbowed her. “Now, now. I’ve been a teen too, you know. And I know all about teenage drama. And I know that it’s not just nothing to you, right now. Maybe, later on, you’ll think so, but it matters to you now, so it’s important, you understand?” she nodded. “Just because you’re a teenager, it doesn’t mean your problems are meaningless, alright? I know adults tend to downplay teenager’s problem, but not me.” he ruffled her hair. “Now, tell everything to your big brother.”

She laughed and shoved him playfully. “You’re not my brother!”

“Well, now I am! I’m the brother you never asked for but got anyway. Deal with it.”

She laughed again, and he felt like he succeeded a little in cheering her up. “Alright, ‘big brother’, I’ll talk.”

She took a deep breath before facing him.

“It’s my boyfriend. He canceled on me. Again.” she laughed. “I know I shouldn’t be upset to be stood up, and I wasn’t the first time. Or the second. Or the third. But I’ve lost count of the times he ditched me for his friends, or for an event that just happened. And I tried to be understanding at first. It’s just… I’m doing everything to make our relationship work. I plan dates, even double dates because I know how much he loves his friends — our friends. But it feels like it’s one sided,” she paused, taking another deep breath. “But I haven’t properly talked to him in months because he keeps standing me up. I just… Does he want to break up with me? Is that what’s he’s trying to do, but is too much of a coward to do it properly? I… I guess I’m just realizing now that we haven’t be fine for months now.”

Jason sighed. “I can’t tell you what he’s thinking, and what is his reasoning behind his behavior because I don’t know him, but I’ll tell you this: it takes all the people involved in a relationship for it to work. If the other doesn’t put any work in it, it can’t work. It can be fixed, however, but you already tried, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Then, since you already try to fix your relationship, you have to ask yourself this question: are you happy with him?”

Tears gathered again in her eyes and she shook her head. “No… No, Jason, I’m not happy anymore.”

He opened his arms, inviting her in a hug, and she immediately threw herself in her arms.

“Then, I think you know what to do.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Marinette stopped crying.

“I’m sorry, I barely know you and I just dumped all my problems on you.”

“Hey, when I said that I was now your brother, I meant it. I take my duties as a big brother very seriously.”

The fashion designer laughed. “What, you just picked people on the street and claimed they are now your sibling or something?”

“No, you’re just special.”

She laughed. “I’m nothing special, but thank you. For listening to me and offering me friendship. I really appreciate it.”

He patted her hair. “Anytime, chouquette.”

They exchanged numbers before parting ways, this time without any pastries with him.

The next morning, Jason received a text from Marinette, stating that she broke up with her boyfriend. He asked for details, and she explained that he has been oblivious to it all and didn’t understand why she was breaking up with him. She said that she gave up on explaining anything and that they were just over.

He and Dick spent the last week at the bakery, trying to cheer Marinette up, which was not as hard as he expected it to be. While Marinette was sad that her relationship was over, she was also relieved. She had been hurt too much, and it was a good thing that she wouldn’t be hurting anymore.

Their two weeks stay unfortunately came to an end, and it was time to say goodbye to Marinette.

“Say, what do you think about going to Gotham for university,” he asked her with a grin. “We could see each other much more then.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right. Going to the most dangerous city in America. No thanks, I think I’ll pass.”

He pouted. “But I would protect you.”

She laughed. “I have no doubt you would, but I think I’ll go to New York. I have an internship offer there than I can do alongside my studies,” she paused. “But hey, Gotham and New York are pretty close, no? We can still see each other.”

“One of my brothers is actually going to university in New York too next year! I’ll tell him to look after you!”

“What?! Come on Jason, I don’t need anyone looking after me!”

“Tutututu! Let your big brother handle it!”

“But you’re not my brother!”

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 9

Chapter 1 || Previous || Next

------

She opened the window and picked a pencil. With deadly precision she tossed it. The wooden tool sailed through the air until it hit the binoculars and broke one side of them. She huffed and closed the window before pulling the curtains closed. How rude.

Jason cursed under his breath. Any other day he would probably avoid the projectile, but it caught him completely by surprise. By all accounts, it was physically impossible to use a pencil with such precision and force to destroy military-grade night-vision binoculars. At least the memory card was safe so he could give it to replacement later on for analysis.

Still in bad mood after having his gear ruined, Jason zipped to Dupain-Cheng’s window and gave a light knock. No response. Another knock. Still no response. Finally, after the third knock, the blinders opened and the window itself followed, revealing a very angry girl. Jason finally had a chance to get a better look at her. She did, in fact, have blue hair and now that he’d seen it close, he would bet half his paycheque that it was somehow a natural color. The purple too. She must have had her hair dyed for the first day of work. Her eyes were another part that he memorized. They were blue and iridescent green at the same time, giving a slight unnatural aura. Or maybe it was just that she looked ready to murder him.

“Are you done staring?” She asked, clearly annoyed. “You are not my type and much too old. And the stalker routine is plain creepy. Get lost old guy.”

She was about to close the window when he started speaking.

“I actually came to apologize. I did not ‘stalk’ you, thank you very much. I was just checking on you, miss. You do realize that you single-handedly kicked Riddler’s ass and got quite a bit of publicity.”

“Suuure. You do that for every brave citizen?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and a small grin. “You would be really short-staffed. I hope that overgrown furry does pay you for the overtime.” Any traces of amusement disappeared from her face. “Now get lost before I sic Chloe on you. She recently started dating Damian Wayne and the two seem to bond over ruining people. I’m sure you would make a decent target.” Without further ado, Mari closed the window and put the blinders back in place, completely cutting him off. 

Jason didn’t protest. He was too busy processing the fact that Demon Spawn apparently started dating someone. Oh, he would have so much fun teasing the little menace. 

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

When the motorbike entered the Batcave, Jason expected to meet perhaps the Replacement or Demon Spawn. He definitely did not expect to see the entire family sans B and Alfred. 

“Do you want to perhaps explain why dad received an angry call about ‘some idiot in red bucket’ stalking her through the window?” Barbara asked. frowning deeply. 

“Or at least why were you stalking her?” Dick added.

“Or where you hid my coffee?” Tim joined.

“Timothy!” Several of them shouted.

“What? It’s important!”

“Back to the matter at hand.” Dick turned back to Jason. “What exactly were you thinking?!” He screamed.

“Geez. You thought about joining some opera?”

“Tt. Answer the question.” Damian interrupted.

“That reminds me. Did you know Demon Spawn got himself a girlfriend?” Jason asked, trying to deflect. He really did not like how they jumped at him.

“Not… important.” Cass stared daggers at him. “Talk.”

“Fine!” he threw hands in the air. “I followed a hunch. And I was right. She is a meta!” He procured his destroyed binoculars. “There is no human way to destroy military-grade equipment like that with just a pencil.”

Tim picked it up and quickly tossed it onto the table nearby. A blue light scanned the products and the bat-computer started to display the scan plus introductory analysis.

“Well, he is right. There is no way that a simple pencil could destroy it.” He pressed some buttons and recording from the last seconds of the item’s life played. They could clearly see her throw a pencil at it and then everything went black. “Or I was wrong.” Tim started to do a series of calculations. 

“Bucket-head might be onto something. With her muscle mass, it would be impossible to throw a pen with enough force. Actually, it’s almost impossible to make that throw. Not with human muscle density…”

Barbara rolled over to him and the two started to work side by side. “But that’s also not probable since the body is not…” 

“She would probably…” 

“Plant fibers have a similar structure, but she would…” 

“Maybe… Unless she is not strong and instead…”

“Um… earth to nerd corner. Can you explain?”

“Jason might have hit the bullseye.” Tim grinned and several groans could’ve been heard. “She is definitely a meta. It still doesn’t explain why you stalked her.”

“Is that not reason enough?” Red Hood asked. He immediately regretted it when Duke stared daggers at him. 

“You do realize, that metahumans are not as rare as it was believed at the beginning?” Tim asked.

“What?”

“Roughly ten percent of humans are born with dormant meta-gene and the number is increasing each year. And about one in twenty people have an active meta-gene. They just don’t go around wrecking everything or don a cape and run around beating people.” Tim spoke in a matter-of-factly tone. 

“What?”

“Yeah. Eidetic memory, or perfect recall for our uneducated bucket-head,” Tim snickered while Jason grumbled.

“I hate that name.”

“I think it will stay for a while.” Stephanie was smiling. “She does have a way with nicknames. First an overgrown furry, then red Buckethead…” She was on the verge of laughing. “I wonder what she does next?”

“As I was saying,” Tim regained the control of the conversation, “eidetic memory is actually one of the earliest forms of registered active meta-ability.”

“What?”

“The gene tends to activate under extreme duress, but, as we learned, the definition of extreme duress varies from person to person.”

“So what? A guy afraid of failing an exam might accidentally unlock super memory?” Jason dismissed it.

“More like if someone lived in years under pressure and is about to crack.” Dick pointed. “I mean there was even this large awareness campaign about four years ago led by Beast Boy. Where were you?”

“Dead.” Jason deadpanned. “I was dead.”

“Oh… I guess you didn’t see Garfield’s movies then?” Steph asked, being the first to break through the heavy atmosphere.

“She is still a meta.” Jason tried to fight, but his arguments were wavering. 

“Which changes nothing. You will go to her tomorrow and apologize.” Tim said categorically. 

“Ugh! Fine. But I got one more interesting fact: Demon Spawn got himself a girlfriend.” He grinned and turned to Damian. Everyone followed his gaze.

“Tt. I have no idea what you are talking about Todd.” 

“That blonde! Charlie saw you two sitting and eating pastries together! She is the new intern!” Dick had a big fat smile on his face and his eyes were almost glittering. “Who is she? How did you two meet?”

“Blonde?” Tim suddenly paled considerably. “There is only one blonde intern. Please tell me you aren’t dating Chloe Bourgeoise of all people!” He squeaked.

Damian wanted to deny it further, but seeing the Replacement’s reaction he changed his mind. The grin that formed on his face was borderline malicious before turning back to the emotionless mask he wore every day. “Yes. She finally admitted that I was not at fault for the cake incident. She is actually tolerable now.” 

“What cake incident?” Steph asked, smelling some juicy story about her ex. That kind of story was the best.

“Tt. When we were at this gala in Paris two years ago, Replacement attacked me and we fell into the birthday cake.”

“It doesn’t sound…” Dick started, but Damian interrupted him.

“The cake had six levels and was about as tall as I am now. Mayor Bourgeoise was not happy that we ruined his precious princess’s birthday.”

“So that’s why we no longer go to Paris?”

“Tt. No. That’s because Jason almost trashed the Louvre.” 

“Right…” Tim mumbled while his eyes closed. In just a moment, he was snoring away on the chair.

“Damn. I thought it would work faster.” Barbara complained while peeling the near-invisible sticker away from his neck. 

-----

Thursday actually passed without any trouble for Marinette. The class finally got it through their collective single brain cell that she had the power to end their trip with two words. She was slowly getting the grip on the work and after some talk with Penny, where the woman practically forced Mari to listen to some additional advice. She was actually offended that the girl didn’t call her immediately. 

She did have to practically drag her barely conscious boss to a meeting in the afternoon, but he didn’t put up much of a fight after she gave him a Tikki Special Coffee. The small goddess giggled inside her pocket the entire time as the boy begged on his knees.

After work, she and Chloe went to the Gotham Zoological Garden. At first, she wanted to go to the Botanic Garden first, but their class was supposed to visit there after work, so the girls went to Zoo instead. Gotham had a much broader collection of birds than Paris did. And the less chance of running into their classmates, the better.

“...He did what?” Chloe asked louder than necessary, but nobody paid the two girls in smart outfits any attention.

“Yeah. But don’t worry. I gave him a piece of my mind.” Mari dismissed it.

“It’s still creepy.”

“I know. That’s why I sicced the police at him.”

“That’s my girl!” 

“Well, I threatened to send you and Damian after him, but I decided it would be too cruel.” She smiled. “Besides, I’ve seen that Red Buckethead is trending already.” She pulled out her phone and showed a post there was a picture of Red Hood next to a reversed red bucket.

FashionMari @QueenGoldie Someone in a red bucket was stalking me. I was torn between calling the police and criticizing their fashion choice. In the end, I did both. 

“Only you Goldie. Only you…”

--------

Friday was press conference day. For once, Mari woke up earlier and got dressed in record time. Chloe watched from the side-lines as the girl moved around like a tornado, preparing everything and triple-checking all arrangements. She changed outfits four times before finally the blonde grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to sit down. 

“Goldie! You know I love you and I would kill for you,” She started, “but if you don’t calm down I will tie you up and leave you here for the day.”

“But…!” Bluenette tried to protest, but Chloe cut her off.

“No buts. We are only sixteen. I for one came here to learn a bit and maybe meet someone. You are supposed to be learning. Nobody said anything about getting a full-time job.”

“The deal…”

“So what if they fire you?” Chloe raised her hands over her head. “Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! You have Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeoise fighting over who will get you while Jagged Stone is willing to fly over half the world just to give your references in person. You run a very successful flower shop and even more successful boutique.”

“But…” She tried to muster a weak protest, but Chloe’s angry gaze made her wither. 

“I will not let you run yourself dry!” The blonde stated firmly. “So either you take a step back and breathe or I will call your uncle.”

“Not uncle Jagged! he already banned me from drinking coffee!”

“So you will behave?” Chloe asked with a smirk. 

“Fiiiinneee!” Mari couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Queenie. I needed this. I’m glad I have you as my friend. And sister.” 

“Well of course you needed me! Everyone needs me!” She huffed before her expression became more gentle and she pulled Mari into a hug. 

Downstairs the class was waiting for them. Probably they finally gathered the courage to confront her about Alya’s fate. The girl shouldn’t have lied while filing for promotion. Mari and Chloe stormed past them not even sparing them a glance. Outside, Adrien was already waiting inside the limousine with Gerard at the driver’s seat. 

“I’m glad your driver is finally here.”

“Me too!” The blond boy was practically beaming. “I’m free from Lila’s clutches.”

“Could you drop us at… No. 2 Twine Street?” Mari asked the gorilla, who only grunted in response.

“Um… We should be going to Wayne Tower.”

“Nope.” Mari popped the ‘p’. “You,” she pointed at Adrien, “are an intern in PR. I asked for you to be present at the press conference to help move stuff around and so on.” 

“And me?” Chloe asked. “If you expect me to…” 

“You’re there to support your boyfriend. He was the one that practically demanded that I get you there. He hates publicity.”

“Oh… Good then. Let’s go.”

“Boyfriend?” Adrien asked curiously. “You mean Wayne?”

“Yeah. Apparently Chloe found herself a partner in scheming.”

“I bet that their dates are filled with planning to take over the world.”

“We could’ve taken the world over by lunch if we wanted.” Chloe looked almost offended. “The question is what way would be the most suitable one.” 

All three of them broke into laughter as the car rode through the city of crime.

----

About fifteen minutes before the press conference was scheduled to start, Tim Drake was still not there. None of the Waynes were there in fact. She sent about fifteen angry messages to Mr. Drake and he was still not here, which only fueled her stress and anger. 

The press had no idea so far and they were eagerly awaiting whatever news the company wanted to present. She bit her lower lips. Chloe was on the phone, trying to reach her boyfriend.

“If that idiot doesn’t get here in the next ten minutes, I’m going to consider stabbing him.” 

“Damian?!” Chloe shouted into her phone. 

“Tt. What do you want?”

“First of all, that’s not how you talk to your girlfriend. Second of all, where in the world is your excuse of a brother?! Mari is an inch from going ballistic!”

“Tt. He’s asleep.” Damian answered in an impassionate tone.

Mari leaped over and wrestled the phone from Chloe. “You go to him right this moment or I swear to all that’s holy and…”

“I get it.” He interrupted her, showing signs of irritation. There were some static and the camera blurred for a moment from the fast motion. When it returned, she saw barely awake Tim Drake wearing blue onesies. 

“wah…”

“Get yourself cleaned up and into a suit in the next three minutes!” She shouted. God bless the soundproof backstage.

“Um… But I will never make…”

“I’m certain you have a great webcam somewhere in this big mansion of yours. Set it in the library and call me in the next few minutes. I so hope you were not supposed to be the model because gods help me…” She took a look at his terrified face. “Of course you were…” 

“In my defense…”

“Shut up. Get going!” She hanged up and turned to Adrien and Chloe, who were looking at her with a mixture of fear and awe. “What are you waiting for?!” She tossed a package to the boy. “You get dressed in the new product.” She pushed him outside and into the janitor’s closet on the other side. “And you’re coming with me!” She dragged Chloe toward the main room. The blonde was sent to the technics room to get the feed started while Mari stepped on the scene. The chatter died quickly and all reporters turned to her.

“Hi. Please forgive us for the slight delay. We have minor technical difficulties that are being solved as we speak. In the meantime, you are free to take the seats. The conference is about to start.” 

Behind her, a screen slowly descended. She saw Adrien leaning from the doors leading backstage and smiling at her. 

“Without further ado, I present you Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”

The image of the teen with black hair appeared on the screen and he waved everyone. He was holding a red cup of coffee with black polka dots, the same Tikki summoned for him the first time. 

Satisfied with herself, Marinette allowed herself a moment of rest. The conference was going well and after a minute of silence for the dead in the recent attack, the presentation began. Adrien was a natural model so it all went great. Wayne Tech in co-operation with Gabriel brand was introducing a new line of ‘smart’ fabric that could withstand medium stress and was almost impossible to dirty or stain. She had to admit it was quite amazing. Apparently, it was partially how Mr. Agreste got her class internship. Granted, Adrien was not supposed to be the model but you don’t look a gifted horse in the mouth. 

Everything was going great until the doors to the room were kicked open and several goons barged in, followed by none other than Two-face. Everyone immediately fell onto the floor. Mari couldn’t help but sigh exasperatedly. Why did it have to go wrong at every turn?

Ignoring the terrified stares, she stormed toward the intruders. “Excuse me, sir?” She asked with an emotionless face.

“What?” The man looked clearly irritated.

“I don’t see your name on the guest list. Did you remember to call in advance?”

“Of course not! Do I look like…” The criminal was clearly angry. 

“Then I apologize, but I must ask you to leave now.” 

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Two-face pulled his gun.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you are not on on the list, I can’t let you stay.” She said in an emotionless voice. Mari was honestly too tired to care at this point. Maybe at least the evening would be better.

“I’m not sure you get the situation, miss. I’m not here for the interviews. Everyone pull out your wallets and drop them in the sacks!” He shouted while his men started to walk around.

“Hm… That won’t do.” She said. After muttering something under her breath, Mari tossed her clipboard. The spinning board hit one of the mooks in the head, knocking him cold, before bouncing and hitting the next one. After that, it returned to her hand. 

That was enough for Two-Face. He aimed his gun at her, but she moved faster than he anticipated. Within seconds, she grabbed his wrist and pushed it up so he was aiming at the ceiling. She squeezed it hard enough to make him drop the gun right into her other waiting hand. The girl let go of his wrist and disassembled the gun into pieces in what could become record time. 

Now irritated, Mari grabbed Two-face by his tie and pulled him down until they were at the same eye-level. 

“I was trying to do it peacefully sir. I am now ordering you to leave. Otherwise, I will actually have to hurt you.” She leaned closer until she was able to whisper. “And don’t make mistakes, Dent. I can and will hurt you.” For a moment her eyes lost the blue coloring and became entirely iridescent green, glowing slightly. 

Harvey Dent rarely felt fear. His life was more often than not guided by the toss of a coin. Now though, he stared in the eyes of Poison Ivy, except ten times scarier. He was already afraid of that woman after she almost fed him to her ‘precious’.

“I… I am deeply sorry madame.” He spoke carefully. “Men! We are moving out. Leave the bags!” And with that, they were all gone. 

Most of the reporters gave Mari big applause. There was only one angry old man that stared daggers at the girl. 

“You let that scum go away!” He shouted. “He was a criminal.”

“Sir. You are free to go after him if that’s your wish. I’m at work and my job description never included chasing after criminals.”

“But… But…” 

“Anyway, we were in the middle of the press conference if I’m not mistaken.”

-------

NEXT

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU, part 2

masterpost     next

*****

As the plane leaves Paris, Marinette can just make out the small dots of brightly colored heroes on a rooftop, letting their temporary Ladybug get used to the ins and outs of the suit. In Marinette’s purse are Kaalki and Trixx, and Adrien and Chloé are in the seats around her, moved to first class by Chloé’s father’s decree. Gotham is hours away, and then minutes, and then they are there, with the entire vacation that Marinette planned out stretching ahead of them.

Except that with each hour in Gotham, she feels more and more restless instead of relaxed. She could blame the sleepless nights worrying over her Maman being Ladybug back in Paris, as Marinette keeps the LadyBugOut app open and watching, or she could blame Lila and her stubborn plans to make Marinette miserable, even here on the other side of an ocean- or even the fact that she can’t really do much design work here besides drawing, all of her nervous energy contained and balled up instead of poured into her most recent project.

When she sees him for the first time, the class is loading up on a bus outside a museum, and he brushes against her on the sidewalk the way people do when the streets are busy.

Except each point of contact between their skin feels like a livewire, and he jolts with it as much as she does, holding the hand that had brushed her arm like he’d been wounded.

Marinette is frozen, but Chloé pulls her onto the bus, and all she gets from her soulmate is a bewildered stare from dark green eyes.

The bus jumps into traffic and he’s gone and it’s too late.

Marinette feels drained and overflowing, empty and inexplicably full and her arm tingles. She doesn’t know how, when she has never seen his face before and certainly wasn’t able to check his name, but she knows it was him.

And her soulmate is gone.

*****

Damian has been filled with restless, relentless energy for the past week. His stoic demeanor cracks with occasional fidgeting, he is quicker than ever to snap on patrol and the lesser villains and thugs spread about that Robin is particularly not happy and perfectly willing to take it out on whatever criminals he can find as he prowls about the rooftops.

He starts walking the streets whenever he can, with school on break, no important cases, no work to be done he just prowls about in plain daylight, thanking once again that Bruce has chosen for all of his children to be kept out of any sort of limelight.

No one recognizes him, with his hair let loose and more mundane clothing on. He’s outside the Museum when he sees a bus loading up with students his age. He pays it no attention, brushes past them, and then has his whole body tense as what feels like electricity shoots through him from the hand that had just touched the tourists; he spins around, cradling his hand in the other and eyes desperately scanning the crowd.

He sees her even as a pushy blonde yanks her into the bus, her wide blue eyes trained on him.

He knows it’s her. He can’t stop staring, even through the dingy bus windows as they pull away, and he’s forced to look back at something that isn’t the bus, already lost in traffic.

She’d looked so- shocked. He flexed his hand, phantom echoes of that lightning warming his veins. For the moment they’d been in front of each other like that, all of the driving force behind his restlessness had drifted away, untethered. Now it ties itself back to him so tightly it is constricting, the manic need to move, to find her.

He has to find her.

*****

Marinette feels calm sweep over her, and she turns to Chloé in the seat beside her and breathes, “I think that was my soulmate.”

Chloé’s words cut off. “Nette, you’d better be fucking joking.”

“I don’t know, I just- he brushed against me, I didn’t even see him, but it literally felt like electricity, and then he turned and looked at me as you pulled me away and I- it’s him. I don’t know how I know, I just-“

She’s on the brink of panic. Chloé takes her hands and digs her nails into the skin, the sharp pinpricks of pain grounding. “Listen to me, Nette. We’ll find him. If I have to derail this whole fucking trip and blow off Bruce Wayne himself I will.”

Marinette makes a sudden mental leap. “Oh. Shit.”

She pulls down the edge of her shirt, leaning into the corner so no one inside or outside will see her slip the shoulder all the way off to reveal the name “Damian Wayne.”

“Oh,” Chloé echoes. “Shit.”

*****

Damian goes to a public library, rents out seven different computers and then steals someone else’s as they stand to go to the restroom or hunt down a book or something.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng” yields far more than he ever expected it to as an internet search. The same eyes he’d just been so fixated by stare out from every page, from articles about her successes in quite a few fashion contests with relatively small payouts but many big names attached to them. Stories about community events organized by her, her association with Jagged Stone painstakingly detailed by hardcore fans, delving into the speculation that she could be the elusive MDC who is now Jagged’s only trusted designer, occasionally loaned out to his friends and fellow musicians.

He finds the website for her school, Françoise DuPont, and reads the small article of congratulations for the class that won a trip to Wayne Enterprises in Gotham. He crosses directly to the Wayne Enterprises website and finds the mentions of both the contest and the winners from France who were scheduled to be in Gotham for three weeks, culminating in an event hosted by Bruce Wayne to award the class.

The class picture is sweet, and he spots her so easily, her smile sunny and warm. He closes it all out and returns the computer to its original user, and he starts walking the long miles back to the Manor from where he’d wandered today.

He knew he couldn’t do anymore searching on his own without being discovered by his family. So he must bring one of his family members in on this, hopefully one able to stave off the rest of his nosy siblings.

He could always ask Alfred, but it feels far too much like taking the easy way out. Instead, he takes an abnormal route to swing by one of the two rooms he has almost never visited. He was almost proud of himself for making the obvious choice, especially because he knew that none of the others would ever think he would willingly go to him for help.

Drake looks up from his desk when he knocks on the open door.

“I need your assistance,” Damian says, and his adopted brother’s mouth drops open.

*****

taglist

@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @alenee13 @rumbelle18

[uwuderes]

PlayDate

Ive been working on this for a while and yes I aged him up can't have a 12 year old doing stuff he shouldn't ^^´. Also its my first smut so please bare with me if its bad or anything!

⚠Warnings⚠: Masturbation, Dubcon

{You call me on the telephone, you feel so far away

You tell me to come over, there are some games you want to play}

You and Damian were very close friends to say you were very different from one another. Damian being the son of the prestigious Bruce Wayne while you were only a middle-class child with no real status anywhere.

Damian was troubled, it was something you knew very well. No matter what people said you always wanted to be there to help him. You knew Damian for the person he was, everyone just had to give him a second chance.

When you both were younger, each of you could be found at each other's homes, your parents grew more and more fond of the boy each visit, while you never really met Bruce but Alfred seemed pleased that you'd give the boy company which was good enough for you.

So when you called him asking him to come over one day just for the fun of it, he happily accepted, at least that what you thought his sarcastic remarks meant. It was the first time you talked to him in a while and you were ecstatic.

Damian was often busy these days. His father took him out on "trips" which in your case were far too often. But it wasn't your job to judge him or his father's choices, You just chalked it up to something that rich people do.

{I'm walking to your house, nobody's home

Just me and you and you and me alone}

Once Damian got your call he was in euphoria. For once he had an excuse to leave the mansion, not like he was going to ask to leave in the first place.

Another reason he was so happy about the call was that it was from you. You wanted him to come over. It only fed the sick messed up the obsession with you. At this particular moment, he was having a crisis over not seeing you for too long.

Being Robin wasn't easy, and it took up most of his time. His time that could be spent with you. He'd get on his knees and worship you, that's just how amazing you were in his eyes.

Damian opened his bedroom window making sure to lock the door before jumping out into the grass. He then set out on foot, making his way over to your house.

It was nearly night by the time he arrived knocking on your apartment door. His eyes lit up as he saw your (s/c) body open up the door. Bright (e/c) eyes staring right into his emerald green ones, glimmering in admiration.

"Oh my god, you look like a mess! Come in come in!" You beamed brightly. Damian smiled walking through your door into the small apartment. (Y/N) followed quickly behind closing the door. "What happened?!?"

"I snuck out. It's gonna be a while before they realize I'm gone." Damian looked around seeing how much the cramped apartment had changed. Which wasn't much. "You know you could always live with me, this place is shit..."

"You know I can't do that. My parents need my help and I want to be there to help them."

Oh right, them.

"Your lost. But anyways where are they?" Damian asked turning around to look at (Y/N). She smiled walking over to him.

"They are both at work! Meaning that we have my little den of a home all to ourselves! Plus we are 18 now I'm pretty sure we can take care of ourselves!"

Damian smiled at those words, you were alone... With him...

Oh was he going to have some fun with you...

{We're just playing hide and seek

It's getting hard to breathe under the sheets with you

I don't want to play any games

I'm tired of always chasing, chasing after you}

You smiled glancing at Damian's attempts at playing Mario Kart. "Are you sure you got this? You choose the hardest track in the game." You chuckled. Damian only huffed before falling off the track once more.

He then threw the controller on the bed angrily. "Why is it so hard?!?" He yelled aggravated. You laughed pausing the game.

"You have to choose an easier track! You went straight for Rainbow Road!" You laughed out underneath your covers. For some reason, your room decided to be freezing cold today. Damian looked back at you before moving up and getting underneath the blanket himself. Which didn't phase you? I mean its cold he just wants some warmth too.

Silence surrounded you two as he reached over to pause the game. Finally reached over to you hugging you closer to him. "Thanks for inviting me over... I missed this you know... Just being around you."

You looked up at him smiling faintly. "Its no problem really. I just thought we should spend more time together like the old days... Before you became too busy to even come over ya know..." You sadly looked away.

Damian sighed. "I'm never going to let that happen again alright?"

"You aren't??? Thank you Damian for e-" Your phone started to go off interrupting you the midway. The cheesy ringtone was accompanied by the bright 'Mom' popping up on your screen. "I'm sorry let me take this, I'll be right back alright?"

Damian angrily huffed out letting go of you. They always ruined everything for you two. He wished they were gone.

{I don't give a fuck about you anyways

Whoever said I gave a shit about you?

You never share your toys or communicate

I guess I'm just a play date to you}

Damian got even pissier after the door was closed. But he'd never let you see that side of him. He couldn't scare you away he was this close to getting you

Getting up from his resting position on the bed, Damian started to look around your room. On your dresser seeing a bunch of collectibles and as he liked to call them "girl things" really just your makeup.

He picked up a perfume bottle and sprayed himself breathing in the scent. Damian must have been in heaven. He smelled like you... Every time he breathed in his nostrils filled with the scent of you.

He raised his shirt upwards breathing in the sweet smell of you. He practically basked in it. After smelling his shirt longer than needed he kept looking around.

Soon, He came across your dirty laundry a wicked smile coming across his face. He pulled out a pair of your panties. Lacey and all... He felt himself drool slightly before sitting down on you bed falling back. Everything around him smelt like you. He was going insane by it all.

Damian blushed red as he looked down seeing a prominent erection. His breath picking up as he unbuttoned his jeans quickly pulling them off along with his boxers. He needed release, right now. He grabbed his cock stroking it slowly all while smelling your panties, getting himself off.

He picked up the sound of your voice the call must've been taking longer than expected. It didn't matter to him, visions of you moaning his name and scratching his tanned skin as he pounded faster into you filled his mind.

Falling on your bed, your scent surrounded him only clouding his mind even more. His actions guided him to a euphoric release. He couldn't take it anymore, he needed the real thing.

Damian needed you.

{Ring around the rosy I never know, I never know what you need Ring around the rosy, I want to give you, want to give you What you need}

You walked back into your room seeing Damian passed out on your bed. You smiled sitting down next to him stroking his hair. He must've been exhausted, you thought. He must never get a break to sit down and be a normal teen.

His breathing was steady as he cuddled into the caress of your hand. He turned over wrapping his arm around your legs pulling you close. Maybe he was trying to fall asleep?? Yeah thats it...

"(Y/N)..." Damian mumbled pulling you to a position in which he spooned you. "Come sleep with me... I'm tired...."

You nodded laying down and starting to close your eyes. You were tired to be honest and just needed some rest.

It'd been around 5 minutes and you were tucked in and almost asleep. Until one of Damians hands started to rub your waist playing with your shirt. His hand trailed lower and all you could do was stare forward wide eyed.

Damian started to plant kisses on your neck sucking lightly on the (skin tone) skin. His fingers trailed and worked your bottom lips slightly over your tights. "Be good for me baby alright?" Damian mumbled into you ear biting it afterwards.

"P-Please stop..." You stuttered out. Damian shushed you pulling down your leggings and panties. Abruptly he pulled the covers off you seeing everything he worked so hard to get. He moved to where he sat on top of you staring into your eyes. He smiled lightly before kissing you licking your bottom lip. You didn't kiss him back... You didnt want this he was your friend and nothing more. He growled and pulled at your hair causing you to gasp and open your mouth only for Damian to slip his tongue in your mouth.

All the while his fingers trailed lower and lower moving to your clit. He rubbed slowly causing you to moan in his mouth. Damian pulled away a string of saliva connecting your mouths. He grabbed your shirt stopping the actions that took place on the lower half of your body. He ripped it in half throwing the tattered shirt across the room.

"Baby your so beautiful." He mumbled kissing down your neck once more, stopping at times to suck hickeys onto your body. He unhooked your bra and continued to kiss lower. He looked down at your soaked pussy smiling wickedly. "You wanted this... Of course you did. And I'm going to be the first one to pop that oh so delicate cherry of yours." You opened your mouth to protest but Damian was quick to latch his mouth onto you, fingering you all the while.

You moaned out eyes rolling in the back of your head, this feeling was foreign to you and you loved it. You moaned out, Damian taking that as encouragement to go faster. He groaned out smiling as you were a mess in front of him.

"Your about to cum... Do it baby come all over my face make a mess of yourself." Damian growled into your clit loving everything you did. You gasped releasing everything you had left, and came on Damians tongue and fell back. He lapped at your cum soaked pussy leaning up and kissing you harshly.

"You liked that didn't you..." He asked rubbing your cheek fondly. You didn't respond exhausted. You instead passed out tired. He smiled licking his lips. He was going to have to build you up to doing everything with him, but he had enough for the day. He looked at your phone as it buzzed to life seeing your parents texting you.

So they are going to be gone for 2 weeks... He was going to have all the time in the world...

{You know I give a fuck about you every day Guess it's time that I tell you the truth If I share my toys, will you let me stay? Don't want to leave this play date with you}

[soulmate-game]

IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT YOU GUYS HAVE ADOPTED ME. THIS IS MY REBELLION (thanks)

Now, a proper introduction to this story:

—*—*—*—*—*

“I do not see why we all had to come,” Damian groused, hands shoved into his pockets. Bruce had decided to set up a new branch of Wayne Enterprises in Paris, and apparently that required him and all his sons to come with him on a weeklong trip to scout out the perfect location from a set of possibilities and start networking. Selina and the girls had decided to allow all the boys the much needed vacation, taking over Gotham-sitting in their absence. There were the Zeta Tubes in Paris if all else failed anyway.

(The girls only made this deal with the agreement that they would get their own, twice as long vacation to some tropical island once they got back).

Bruce straightened out his suit. “This trip serves two purposes at once, Damian,” he started to tell his youngest in what all his sons dubbed the Lecture Voice. “Obviously, the public reason is setting up WE’s new headquarters here. The real reason, however, is that Diana is bad at keeping secrets for long periods of time.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jason asked, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he still had absolutely no idea how he managed to get roped into this shit. He didn’t want to be in Paris, let alone on a trip alone with his ‘family.’

Bruce hummed for a moment, looking around to make sure nobody was listening to the foreigners speaking in soft English. Nobody was. They continued walking down the street, but Bruce was careful to keep his voice low regardless. “Clark mentioned something about Lois wanting to visit a reporter friend of hers here in Paris, and Diana immediately changed the subject. What with her having worked at the Louvre in the past, Clark had wanted her feedback on the best places to take Lois to eat. Diana nearly exploded from how badly she was trying to steer the conversation as far away from Paris as possible.”

“You think she’s hiding something from the League?” Tim asked, eyebrows furrowed. He was the least upset about this whole thing, since he would have been forced to come on the trip anyway as WE’s COO. “That doesn’t seem like her thing.”

“It isn’t,” Bruce agreed. “Unless she felt honor bound to keep a secret. And if Diana of all people feels honor bound to keep a secret…”

“Then it’s big,” Dick finished with a nod. “She probably has a contact or friend here who convinced her to keep something away from the League. So you brought us all here to figure it out, then?”

“I had Barbara look into things on the Computer, but she didn’t turn up as much as we expected. Apparently something is messing with the electronic signals leaving Paris, hardly any information leaves this city on any electronic waves at all unless it’s specifically meant to, like business emails or political business. Local shows and news, any small time websites or blogs, all of those sorts of things are suddenly mysteriously inaccessible anywhere outside of city limits. Even social media posts.”

Tim frowned. That wasn’t… good.

Their conversation was interrupted by an explosion, followed by the collapse of the Eiffel Tower and the ringing of alarm bells.

“AKUMA ALERT. AKUMA ALERT. EVACUATE TO DESIGNATED SHELTERS. AKUMA ALERT.”

The group of civilian-dressed heroes tensed, looking around to see that the majority of locals seemed rather calm about the whole thing. They were brisk and efficient in evacuating, but not overly panicked. Bruce decided that was a good enough reason to tap a native’s shoulder and ask what was going on. Luckily, he and all his sons were fluent in French so none of them would be left confused.

The citizen they had pulled aside, a blond that Bruce belatedly realized was the mayor’s daughter, blinked up at them as if surprised to be interrupted. Then realization came over her face, making her relax slightly.

“Oh! You are the Waynes, correct? Daddy told me you all would be visiting from Gotham this week,” she turned her head over her shoulder to survey the chaos around them. “This is an Akuma attack. It’s the result of Paris’s own resident nut job super villain. Since you will all be here for the next few days, it’s important for you to know,” she put her hands on her hips and stared the group down as if all of them weren’t half a foot taller than her and much more well built, and ignoring the fact that everyone else around them was fleeing to safety. “Keep your emotions in check. HawkMoth, the villain behind this whole disaster, takes advantage of people’s negative emotions to turn them into temporary super powered villains called Akumas. If you get too angry or sad or even scared, you’re vulnerable to him.”

“Attacks like this happen almost every day, at this point. It’s been going on for three years now. But you shouldn’t have to worry— right on time,” Chloè Bourgeois suddenly smiled smugly as a red and black figure could be seen running across rooftops in a blur. “That’s our primary superhero, Ladybug. Her partner Chat Noir shouldn’t be far behind. As long as we go to a shelter, everything should be fine. The closest one is this way,” she told them, starting to lead the group away.

“Are you not at all worried about the Eiffel Tower?” Dick asked, disbelief clear in his tone even as he and his family followed the teenager. “Isn’t that a massive source of tourism for this place?”

Chloè snorted, waving her hand dismissively. “Please. The Eiffel Tower gets destroyed every Tuesday, practically. The news station gets ransacked almost every Thursday, and for some reason the Louvre only gets attacked every other Saturday or so. The Seine gets decent action too. Everything will go back to normal as soon as the Akuma is defeated.”

“Normal?” Jason interjected, eyebrows furrowed. “How can the Eiffel Tower suddenly come back from being rubble?”

Chloé laughed, very out of place considering the emptying streets. “That’s because of Ladybug. Her power reverses all the damage from an Akuma attack, as if it never happened in the first place. If we’re caught outside and flattened by a thrown car or giant falling rock? Poof, brought back to life without any injuries once Ladybug beats the Akuma. Drown during an attack? Poof, brought back. Beheaded by a maniac Akuma after revenge? Poof, head back on,” the heiress explained rather crassly.

Her examples were making the men behind her grimmer and grimmer. They came to the girl far too easily to just be made up scenarios.

“Watch out!” An unfamiliar voice called out, a red figure suddenly landing right in front of them before a resounding explosion rocked the whole street. Chloé shrieked, covering her head with her hands. The Waynes braced themselves and did their best to stay upright, getting right back up as quickly as possible when that failed.

When the dust cleared, it revealed the woman they had briefly caught a glimpse at before. Ladybug. True to form, she was dressed in red with black spots, though it looked as if her skin tight uniform wouldn’t offer much protection. In front of her was a slightly transparent pink shield which—oh. Nope. That was a shield she made by swinging a yo-yo.

An honest-to-Batman YO-YO was her main weapon, and it apparently could create magical shields to deflect explosives.

“Chloe! What have I told you about getting to a shelter as soon as possible?” The heroine shouted at the blonde heiress, who just pointed at the men she had been leading.

“I was! But I ran into tourists who had no idea what to do, I was trying to get all of us to a shelter!” The blond defended herself, before her eyes widened and her pointing finger moved. “Behind you!”

Ladybug turned a bit, but didn’t seem surprised at all when a black blur came out of seemingly nowhere and knocked into the floating villain dressed in gaudy oranges and yellows, knocking the Akuma’s aim off track. The explosion that the villain had meant for Ladybug and the civilians she was protecting hit the side of the road instead, hurting nothing but concrete.

“You were almost late, Chaton,” Ladybug called to the figure dressed in black, her voice teasing and eyes amused. The figure batted the Akuma away on buy time before jogging over, revealing a blond boy in a distressingly leather costume that was far too similar to Catwoman’s for any of the Gotham males to be comfortable with.

“Not my fault you took off ahead of me, Milady!” He shot right back, just as teasingly.

“Graaaaaah!” The Akuma, Explosion, pushed himself back up to his feet and glared at the heroes. “Die, die, die! You want to laugh at me, you want to say how I’ve ‘blown up,’ I’ll blow YOU up! See how you like it!”

“Their dialogue never gets any better,” Chaton, who the Gotham boys guessed was the Chat Noir that Chloé has mentioned, quipped as he spun a bo staff in his hands lazily. “Milady?”

Ladybug nodded. “The Akuma is in their belt. We’re gonna have to get up close for this one,” she remarked, getting her yo-yo ready to call on Lucky Charm. But, before she got a chance to, a blur ran out from behind her and tackled the super villain. “No!”

Ladybug immediately ran over, not caring that the green eyed boy was an amazing fighter and managed to grapple the Akuma to the ground in seconds. Power flowed into the Akuma’s gloved hands, and Ladybug was barely able to pull the civilian away before he got blasted.

“Don’t tackle a magically powered villain, what are you thinking?!” She yelled at him, grabbing the boy into a princess hold and jumping back as Explosion tried to hit them. She ignored the boy’s protests and attempts to escape her grip, dodging around every punch and kick. Her eyes strayed to the side, and the heroine suddenly smirked.

“Chat noir! Now!”

Her partner lunged, using Explosion’s distraction to use Cataclysm on the guy’s belt. Ladybug released Damian’s legs so she could purify the butterfly, one-handedly swinging her yo-yo with barely any effort. After a few seconds the cure was cast, and the damage reversed. The red clad heroine looked over at her partner and Chloé, her mouth straightening into a frown.

“Chloé, can you get the victim to calm down and try to sort out the whole issue surrounding the video that was posted without his consent? Chat, go ahead and go. I got this sorted out.”

Ladybug didn’t wait for a response, turning her head to lock gazes with Bruce, who was clearly the oldest of her group of tourists and the one in charge. “Follow me, monsieur,” she said curtly, turning and half-dragging Damian with her by the arm. She waited until they reached an alleyway that would keep any of them from being easily noticed. She didn’t want anyone to catch this confrontation on camera.

“I understand you are new to Paris,” she said softly, her voice hard as she released her hold on the teen and swept her eyes over everyone he was with. “But this is not a game. You do not tackle an Akuma unless you have a nearly indestructible suit on and the powers to combat one, do you understand me?”

“I thought you could bring the dead back to life?” Another male said, his blue eyes sharp her his fluffy black hair. “Tim Drake, by the way.”

Ladybug nodded. “I can. But that doesn’t mean I want anyone injured or dead if I can help it. X-rays have shown that even the Cure leaves a few residual marks. If someone drowns and is brought back, their lungs are weaker than before. If someone was smashed by rubble, their x-rays show evidence of the breaks even if they are healed far better than normal time and medical procedures can accomplish. Phantom pains, aches, the damage done by death doesn’t go away just because magic fixed it. Little things remain, even if your memory of the death doesn’t,” she explained sharply. She turned to the green-eyed boy again, making mutual eye contact for the first time.

“Paris is my city. I don’t care how good you are at fighting, you cannot run into a battle like that again. I asked for heroes and vigilantes to be distracted or entirely sent away from coming here to avoid this exact situation and having to fight Akumas I might not be able to handle, and I am not above using my influence to get you deported for the same reasons. Am I understood?”

The boy opened his mouth, but couldn’t get a word out before him and Ladybug’s worlds shifted. Their eye contact sparked something, sending electricity through their bodies and making both of them blink and gasp.

Their point of view was cut in half. Damian found himself staring at Ladybug, but he could also see what could only be Ladybug’s point of view as she stared right back at him.

He raised one eyebrow slowly. Figures his soulmate would be a hero. He couldn’t see how a relationship with a civilian would work for him, though he hardly gave thought to relationships in general. From both her lecture and the way she handled the fight, he knew her to be experienced and professional. The way she held herself alone was enough to garner a spark of respect from him. The fact that the Wayne name didn’t seem to mean much of anything to her also helped.

And not just anybody could grab hold of him that easily and tote him around as he tried to escape their grip.

With a smirk, he held out his hand. Ladybug clearly had no idea that he was a vigilante as well, and he was going to have fun with that.

“My name is Damian Wayne, and apparently Paris is going to become an important city for me as well if you’re my soulmate. I promise not to interfere without your permission from here on.”

Ladybug just swallowed, her eyes wide and… scared? She took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

If she didn’t already know that running away would mean he would find out her identity, she would have. But since they could see from each other’s point of view, that was not a good idea.

A few beeps sounded from her earrings, making Ladybug bite her lip.

“Okay. Here’s what’s gonna happen,” she said, ignoring the incredulous stares they were getting from Damian’s family. “I’m gonna go on the other side of this door,” she pointed to the door that she knew was unlocked and a safe place to detransform. “And then we are going to meditate until we can find a way to undo… this,” she gestured to her eyes, indicating the point of view issue.

“And then we can meet on the rooftops tonight, right?” Damian tried, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Ladybug glared at him, knowing what he was doing. He could obviously read that she was going to run away the moment she got the chance, her concern over her identity overruling her desire to know her soulmate. He was trying to make sure she didn’t.

“Fine,” she bit out reluctantly, opening the door in the alleyway and entering the fire exit it led to. She shut the door, allowing herself to detransform. Tikki remained dutifully out of eyeshot. “Meditate. Now,” she barked to the other side of the door.

Kwami, what is my luck?

—*—*—*—*—*

“I hate you so much,” Marinette growled, pouting as she buried her face into Damian’s shoulder. Her boyfriend, her soulmate, just chuckled as he returned her hug. “You were Robin this whole time?”

“Yes, Habibiti,” he said with amusement lacing his tone. It had taken two months and a Wayne-funded weekend trip to Gotham City (for only Marinette) for the girl to put together her boyfriend’s identity.

He had figured out her’s after two weeks.

“In my defense, I didn’t meet Robin until last night and I figured out it was you as soon as I got some sleep,” she defended herself.

“Maybe you would have put it together immediately if you hadn’t stayed up for the past thirty-six hours on a commission,” Damian gently scolded, earning a snort from his girlfriend.

“I’ll sleep when I die. Speaking of die. You owe me a lot of fabric and good food to apologize for keeping this secret before I kill you. I know you only did it to mess with me.”

Damian just laughed, unrepentant. It was true.

“I’ll ask Pennyworth to make your favorites.”

“You better.”

—*—*—*—*—*

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Long Time, No See - fic

Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne Summary: Damian was out of the life. He was free. He was a civilian. But he was still Dick’s little brother, and he had to warn him about an old enemy anyway. Had to keep him safe, no matter what. No matter how much had changed. A/N: I was really into some recent hcs about Damian going on the straight and narrow civilian path, so decided to write about it. Damian’s 25/26. Owns and runs an animal shelter/rescue/adoption center. Is probably one of those ones that keeps in touch with all adopters and gets updates on the animals. He still interacts with the family, but as hinted, not very often. Still attends the occasional W.E. gala and visits Gotham when necessary. Dick ends up staying for a few days, and Damian fixes his injuries, shows him around town, and scolds him for being old and still making terrible life choices.

~~

Dick felt butterflies in his stomach as he turned onto the quiet street, and almost laughed out loud.

He’d been face to face with death a million times, and he’d never felt this nervous.

He could see families through windows. Curled up on sofas watching TV. The glow of fire pits in backyards. Some outdoor cats lurking on front porches and in bushes. It was a nice place. A sweet little niche in the corner of the world.

The reason they all put the masks and capes on, no matter where they were.

He was almost to his destination – a house around the middle of the street – when he realized: all of those outdoor cats? They were now following him. More joining the mob the more homes he passed.

Dick did laugh now – because of course. Of course.

As he slowed in front of the house, the cats swarmed around him like a current. Some greeting him, others warning him. All of them clamoring onto the darkened front porch.

Dick only rolled his eyes, shook his head as he took off his helmet.

He stared up at the house. A modest two-storey with a single garage. Meticulously cared for flower bushes weaved around a front porch and down a walkway. Beautiful here at this late hour, he only imagined how lovely it was in the daytime.

Those butterflies fluttered again.

“I wish you would have called first.”

Dick nearly fell off his bike at the sound. Looked back to the front porch to find a young man standing there now. Donning sweatpants and a hoodie. Tussled black hair over top a pair of dark, thick-rimmed glasses. Brown, Dick thought, though couldn’t be sure from so far away.

The cats were all talking to him now, and a wave of a group purr echoed through the neighborhood as they all tried to rub against the man’s legs simultaneously. Silhouettes of dogs and other cats appeared in the now dimly lit windows.

Damian always was a fan of his furry friends.

“Sure you’re out of the game, kiddo?” Dick asked, ignoring the tightening of his chest as he dismounted his bike. Made sure his mask was still tight to his eyes, in case of nosey neighbors. “Only your dad can do that weird magic appearing trick so well anymore.”

“Old habits die hard.” Damian shrugged. He glanced down at the army of cats at his feet. “He’s fine, little ones. A friend, I promise.”

The cats seemed to take his word, and just as quickly as their mob appeared, they were gone. Disappeared back into the night like their wild ancestors.

“Well?” Damian asked, almost annoyed. “Are you coming in? In case you haven’t noticed, Nightwing, it’s cold out tonight.”

“Sorry, sorry. Just…” Dick looked around as he walked up the door. Followed the concrete path instead of walking through the grass. “Admiring. Nice place.”

“I’m aware.” Damian hummed, stepping back to let Dick into the house first, before following and closing the door behind them. Dick heard the distinctive click of a heavy lock. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, and maybe a glass of water, if you can.” Dick glanced back at him. Damian’s glasses weren’t brown – they were blue. A baby blue, like his own uniform. The frames brightened his teal eyes. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“I told you to stop calling me kiddo.” Damian sighed, passing him. The gang of animals Dick had seen in the front window appeared now. Half of them stayed to inspect Dick, the other half followed their dad. “And take that stupid mask off. Remember the rules – when you are here, you are my brother, not a vigilante.”

“Right, right…” Dick hummed, tugging at the mask, looking around the foyer as Damian vanished into the kitchen. There were photos all along the walls. Mostly of his animals. He could see a wall in another room covered in photos, some overlapping. Above the photos was the words Successful Adoptions, in pastel spring colors.

But still. Littered among the photos of animals were some of his family, friends. Damian and Tim at a gala the year prior. Damian, Jason and Barbara at a bar. Him and both his parents at some point when he was in college.

The biggest picture of people was Damian squished between Maya Ducard and Jonathan Kent. Colin Wilkes was clinging to all three of them from behind. Damian’s birthday last year, he thought. Or maybe some awards ceremony over the holidays. He couldn’t remember.

(In fact, he’d never known. Saw the photo on someone’s social media, and just never asked.)

Those butterflies swirled again. Sadder, this time. None of the photos – sans the one with his friends – had been recent.

One of the dogs at his feet huffed, and pushed him forward. Down the hall towards the kitchen.

And as he entered the room he saw it – there, on the fridge. It was covered in photos, similar to the Successful Adoptions wall.

Of him.

Him and Damian when Damian was only a child. When Damian was a teenager. Another photo of when Damian was in college, when Dick surprised him on his birthday, then another when Dick and Cassandra showed up to his graduation. At galas, in diners, at the manor, in the hospital. Almost every moment they shared together outside of the capes, for as long as they’d known each other. Displayed in a collage for all to see.

Damian was standing at the counter next to it, fixing up two cups with a large yawn. Dick blinked, and without thinking: “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

Damian shrugged. “If we’re being literal, it was Spooky jumping off the bed that woke me.”

“…Spooky?” Dick asked.

Damian turned, eyes sweeping over the animals. Pointed to a white, medium-sized dog. Part Bull Terrier at least, if Dick had to guess. She stared up at him with a big grin, and happily wagging tail.

“She likes to sit by the window at night sometimes, and is very protective of the house during the vulnerable hours. I’ve woken up to her practically glowing in moonlight, like a ghost.” Damian explained. Then a light chuckle. “I’ve also woken up to her standing over my face, watching me with that smile of hers. She has, admittedly, scared the living daylights out of me a time or two.”

“So.” Dick smiled, leaning down to pet the sweet girl. “Spooky.”

“And of course, when one of them gets up, the rest stir in some way or another too, so.” Damian sighed, but it was fond as he continued the original conversation. He poured liquid into both cups. “As you can imagine, it’s a bit of a free-for-all when that happens, and almost impossible to remain asleep then. Sugar?”

“Only a little.” Dick hummed. Damian added the flavoring, stirred both mugs. He then picked them both up, turned towards Dick and nodded to the nearby room. Dick went there, sitting in one of the recliners, cats already swarming the chair’s arms and back. Spooky jumped up and settled into his lap, tail wagging all the way.

“So,” Damian hummed, handing the mug to Dick before moving over to a nearby loveseat. More cats and dogs jumped up to join him. Anyone who couldn’t fit jumped onto a couch across the room. “What can I do for you?”

“What,” Dick sipped his tea. It was perfect. Just how he liked it. “I can’t just visit my little brother whenever I want?”

“You may, though you never do. The last time you visited for no reason was eighteen months ago, and it turned out at the end of that trip you had only shown up to rid my house of trackers and cameras set up by the Justice League and your Titan friends.” Damian only sounded a little bitter, but was too good at hiding his emotions, even now, to be anything less than professional. “But, that’s more often than Mother or Father, so I guess that counts for something. Now, what do you need?”

Now the butterflies in his stomach were downright stabbing him.

“I…I’m sorry, Damian. I hadn’t realized it was that long.” Dick muttered guiltily. “Soon, okay? I’ll come visit for no reason other than to see and catch up with you soon.”

“No need to apologize. I’ve been busy as well.” Damian shrugged again, in that noncommittal way that Dick hated. He was hiding himself, like he used to. “Though…your answer suggests what I already know. You’re here for a reason.”

Dick smiled, though it was sad. “You think I’d show up in the middle of the night and wake you up without one?”

Damian took a drink of his tea, studying Dick’s face from behind his glasses. Slowly he lowered his mug, and reached out to pet the nearest cat.

“What’s wrong, Grayson?” Damian asked softly. “Are you alright? Is the family alright?”

“Yeah, I just…” Dick inhaled, looked down. Spooky looked up at him, face gentle and encouraging. “Damian, I think…”

“Grayson, you know you can tell me.” Damian pushed. “You can tell me anything.”

“The Court of Owls is back.” Dick blurted out. “And they’ve put a hit out on you.”

Damian paused. “…Well good luck to them. Robin hasn’t been around in yea-”

“Not Robin. You.” Dick reiterated. “They publically attacked your father at a gala. Demanded he join their ranks or suffer the worst of consequences. He said no, so they said they were going to find you instead.”

“And do what?”

“Take you hostage. Torture you. Kill you.” Dick listed off. He swallowed the lump in his throat, knew Damian saw it. “I’d…rather not get into the details of what they said.”

“Hm.” Damian looked into his cup. “Well, they’d have to find me first. And that’s not exactly an easy task for those outside whom I personally give the information to, as you know.”

“Still. Damian, it’s the Court. They’re good at this kind of stuff.” Dick redirected. One of the cats sitting on the back of the chair put their paw comfortingly on his shoulder. “Or have you forgotten about when you were a kid?”

Damian didn’t answer.

“Because I haven’t.” Dick murmured. “I still think about it every day, how they tried to take you.”

“They didn’t try to take me, I went freely.” Damian defended.

“To save me. And they knew that. They humoured you to try to take you from me. Take you from Bruce.” Dick countered harshly. “And I swore on my life that day, I would do anything to make sure they never touched you again. That still stands now.”

Damian snorted, though Dick noticed the flustered blush rolling up his cheeks. “Grayson, I can take care of myself. You know that too.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. You have this whole family of so-called superheroes, you think we’d be able to actually protect you so you didn’t have to take care of yourself.” Dick pushed. “Besides, you said you were done. You said you wanted to be a civilian and civilian only. You know if the Court comes here and you defend yourself, you can’t be that. You won’t be able to stay. You’d have to pick up and move. Start all over. “

That seemed to make Damian pause.

“I saw that wall in your, what was it, your office? Of the animals you helped get adopted. The ones you saved and gave families.” Dick mentioned. “You attempt to take care of the Court yourself, you’re going to lose all that.”

Damian looked at one of the dogs on his lap.

“And I don’t want you to lose anything.” Dick whispered. “Damian, I don’t want to lose you again. Not to the Court. Not to anything.”

Damian blinked, then smiled, tilting his head to the side as he looked back up. “Grayson.”

“What.”

“I’ve forgotten how sentimental you are.”

“What, so I love you and want you safe. Sue me.” Dick pouted, scratching Spooky behind her ear. “Just…the Court is coming after you. I wanted you to know.”

“And I appreciate that, Grayson. Truly.” Damian kept his warm smile. Dick found himself wanting to return it, but also punch it off his smug face. “…Was Father ever going to tell me?”

“I don’t know. He went off to kick the Court’s ass himself before we were able to talk about it.” Dick murmured. Remembered the tea in his hands. Took another swig. “But even if we had, I would have insisted on coming myself.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my brother.” Dick reminded. “And…I miss you like crazy.”

“You wouldn’t miss me if we corresponded more often.” Damian tried. And ever trying to appease, murmured: “I…do the video-calling thing now. The girls at the shelter taught me how. Said it was good for meetings and conference calls. Maya and Jonathan enjoy using it quite frequently now.” He paused thoughtfully. “There’s also texting. I’ve gotten better at that too. I can respond within the hour now.”

“Impressive.” Dick laughed. Stared at Damian for a moment more, as Damian glanced back to a cat that wanted his attention. Pursed his lips and made sweet little noises at it, eliciting soft purrs, and kneading paws against his sweatshirt. Damian smiled, closing his eyes when the cat pushed their faces together.

But more than that – he could see, easily, that there was less tension in Damian’s shoulders. Less stress lines at his eyes than when he was ten, or fifteen even. His hair was a mess, and Dick remembered a time when he wouldn’t leave his room – not for anything – before being dressed to a T, with immaculate clothing, and hair slicked back, not a lock out of place. God, he was sitting here in sweatpants. A hoodie, colorful and boasting the stylized logo for the center he ran. Dick didn’t think Damian even knew what fashionable hoodies were, let alone would ever wear one. Before, he’d only wear solid colors. No words, no art. Tasteless, he would have said all those years ago. Clothing for slobs and degenerates and Drake.

“…Have I ever mentioned how proud of you I am?” Dick whispered, without really meaning to. Kind of a thought that was accidentally voiced.

Damian glanced up, a soft smile for the cat still on his face. “For what?”

“For what.” Dick snorted, looking down at Spooky. “For what, he asks.”

“I’m serious!”

“For everything, Damian.” Dick laughed incredulously. “For the person you grew up to be. How you…how you actually got out. Left the vigilante life and stayed out of it. For keeping yourself safe. For…for finding what you love and doing it, and letting yourself be happy. Hell, I’ve heard you’re like, the most popular guy in this sleepy town. I’ve heard you’re even dating. Going on dates. That’s incredible.”

Damian just watched him.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to leave being Nightwing or Batman or whoever. I tried a few times, but. Always got sucked back in.” Dick shook his head wistfully. “Everyone is proud of you. Bruce brags to the League all the time. Tim laments that he isn’t as strong-willed as you are. On the bad days, Jason always says he’s just gonna give it all up and come live in your garage.”

“Well, he wouldn’t need to do that. He could stay in the spare bedroom, if he wished.” Damian mumbled, almost grumpily. “…Any of you could, really. I don’t know why you all keep yourselves away.”

“Me, because I’m an idiot, and didn’t realize I was. Everyone else…if I had to guess it’d be to keep you safe. I think everyone’s afraid that if we show up back in your life too much, we’ll bring all our demons and enemies with us and they’ll try to hurt you. And the last thing we want to do, like I mentioned, is make you uproot yourself, or give up the life that you’ve found, or drag you back into vigilantism.” Dick explained. Damian lowered his eyes, twisted his lips in thought. “…Damian?”

“You said I was happy, and I am, but.” Damian sighed. “I miss you. I miss my family.”

“And I promise, we all miss you too. Every last one of us.” Dick swore. “But you know us, Damian. You know we’re all shit at this kind of thing. Seems emotional constipation is a genetic trait.”

“Despite the fact none of us are genetically related?” Damian glanced up, smirked at his own barb.

“Exactly. Nurture over nature, or whatever that garbage is.” Dick chuckled. “But I swear on my life, as soon as I get back I’ll get everyone to work on that. Especially the communication thing.”

“Oh?” Damian asked. “And…when are you going back to Gotham?”

“Well. I delivered my message. The Court is coming after you, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, as will Bruce and the rest of the family.” Dick sighed, leaning forward to put his half-drank tea on the coffee table. “So…now, I guess. Be back in Gotham in a few hours.”

Damian took another sip of his own tea. Smacked his lips as he gently pushed his animals off his lap, and placed his own tea on the table. “Mm. No you’re not.”

“Uh…what?”

“You’re not leaving now. Just because I’m out of the game doesn’t mean I’m any less talented than five years ago. I can see the bags under your eyes. The haphazardly treated injuries under your uniform. Not to mention…” Damian paused, took Dick in one more time. “You look sad.”

“Well, my baby brother’s in danger and it’s either my fault or our dad’s, so.” Dick tried to smile, but it came out heartbroken. Tired. Because he knew he never had to lie to Damian. “Do you blame me?”

“You’d kill me if I said I blamed myself more, so I won’t say anything.” Damian quickly spun away. Spooky jumped from Dick’s lap to chase after her guardian. “You’re staying the night at least. I’ll go set up that spare room I mentioned for you.”

“Damian, you don’t have-”

“I want to.” Damian cut off, then glanced over his shoulder. “Now finish your tea.”

Dick listened for a moment, as Damian and his animal army went upstairs. Heard the opening and closing of doors, the shuffling of sheets, quiet thumps. Water running out of a faucet. After a moment, he heard orders to “get off the bed, Reginald, this is for our guest.” A salty meow followed, then, “Well, we’ll ask Grayson if you can sleep with him in a minute. For now, off.”

Dick smiled, and more or less chugged the rest of his drink, then made his way up the stairs. Watched Damian finish preparing his bed, and all the animals desperate to jump up and roll around in those blankets.

Those butterflies flew again, but this time…nicely. Happily. And Dick’s soul felt lighter for it.

Damian completed his task as he made it to the top of the landing, and turned towards him. He opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t get the chance, before Dick was enveloping him in his arms, holding him as tight as he could.

“I love you, kiddo.” He whispered adoringly, apologetically. Damian froze for a moment, then gently returned the embrace. “I love you so much.”

“I know you do.” Damian returned warmly, before pulling back. “Now come on, you’re exhausted.”

Damian motioned to the room. Dick walked past him, pulling at the top half of his uniform.

“…If you don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow,” Damian started slowly, as Dick flopped onto the mattress. It was like a goddamn cloud. He might never move again. Though he did, to look back at Damian. “There’s a nice little café downtown. We could get breakfast. And I could…show you the adoption center.”

“Where you work? The place you built with your bare hands and grew from the ground up? Where you save animals from neglect and abuse and give them the chance at health and happiness and everything they might not’ve gotten otherwise?” Dick asked cheekily. “Damian, I’d be absolutely honored to go see it.”

Dick could see the blush on Damian’s face almost immediately. Smiled, but didn’t say anything about it.

“…Good. That’s settled then. The water you asked for earlier is on the nightstand, should you still want it.” Damian mumbled, clearly trying to make a hasty retreat. “Sleep well, Grayson.” And he was about to go back to his room, when he paused mid-turn. “Oh, yes, I forgot to ask. Would you mind if Reginald-”

“Whatever animal wants to sleep in here is free to do so.” Dick spread his arms dramatically across the sheets, like a sacrifice. “The more the merrier.”

Damian laughed, then addressed the group around them. “Go ahead.”

Dick was immediately swarmed with dogs and cats alike, though knew he’d barely made a dent in the mob. Most of the animals were still going with their dad back to his room, sweet little Spooky included.

As soon as the animals were settled, he glanced back to the door once more time. Found Damian still standing there, like a father putting his child to bed. And he smiled, tears welling in his exhausted eyes as he tried to push the fear the Court’s threats down. Tried to revel in the moment of seeing Damian again. Happy and healthy and after so long.

“Damian-”

“I know, Grayson.” Damian hummed softly. Smiled when he pushed his glasses up his face, as he grabbed the room’s door and began to swing it closed. “And I love you, too.”

[artxyra]

Hi, could you please write a miraculous ladybug salt with Damianette where Marinette and Damian have been dating since before the show starts. Alya believes Marinette has a crush on Adrian even though Marinette is in a relationship with Damian. Alya then tries to break Damianette up in order to get adrianette together. Also Marinette and Adrian met when they were younger due to the dupain-cheng and Wayne's being friends and the Argeste and Wayne's being business friends. Maybe make it Class salt

Pretending to like Adrien may have been the worst decision of her life. Of course, Adrien agreed to it wanting to pretend to be the oblivious just a friend kind of guy. Marinette and Adrien shared laughs at the thought of their classmates trying to get them together not knowing the extent of their relationship prior to meet them.

Let’s rewind a bit.

It started with Sabine and Emilie went to University to together. They were roommates and the bests of friends. From there, Sabine went into dating the baker’s son while Emilie touch interest in a fashion mogul. Everything was perfect for their little group until business started to grow on international levels. Sabine and Tom jumped to stardom after participating in a baking contest in English and became one of Europe’s celebrities in the food industry. Emilie had grown to be loved on the big screen as Gabriel expanded on the family business taking on building the biggest fashion empire in Paris.

Soon the family of twos welcomes new members: Adrien and Marinette.

The children would send the day at each other’s home when their parents were on business trips. They grew to love each other as brothers and sisters. It was Marinette who asked her parents to send her to big brother's house to show him something she had made. Sabine and Emilie cried together when they realize that their children had taken to calling each other siblings.

When Adrien and Marinette were five, the family was welcomed to a Wayne Gala. Sabine and Tom were quick to become friends with a certain Mr. Wayne. Marinette had expanded who siblings to include Dickie and Tim Tam. Adrien was jealous of the competition regarding Mari’s favorite brother.

All was perfect until Mari meet the latest addition to the Wayne family around the age of ten.  Damian Wayne.

He wasn’t like the others, and she had met plenty of the adopted and non-adopted Wayne over the years. He was rude, always looking like he was out to get the world. She at the utmost pleasure in breaking through to the older boy. Her challenge every time she visits was to get him to laugh. She didn’t exceed.

 When Adrien went the young Wayne, he screamed and hid behind Marinette, who at the time was taller than the two boys. Adrien hugged Mr. Kitten, his stuff black cat, like a lifeline until Alfred had called the three kids for lunch.

As they have gotten older, Damian took a liking to Marinette and had developed a crush on her. His older siblings found it hilarious when they found the demon lightly brushing at any mention of the Parisian girl.

Unfortunately, a loss entered the Agreste household. Emilie had fallen sick and had disappeared from the face of the earth. Gabriel didn’t know how to deal with the loss, he ended up giving the Dupain-Cheng temporary custody of his son until he figures out his next move. That was the last time anyone had seen M. Agreste in public. Adrien plenty of surrogate siblings to help him through the loss of his mother, but he also ended up losing his father in the process.

Months before they were to enter college, Damian had asked Marinette on a date. Marinette smiles and wrapped her arms the taller boy’s neck. Her boys had grown to be taller than the girl even if it was by a couple of centimeters. Everyone around them suspects that they’ll be at least 5’9” to 6” while Marinette would grow to be Sabine’s height at best.

Celebrations were made at the announcement of the Dupain-Cheng heiress and Wayne heir becoming a couple. Their parents promise their kids a normal relationship despite media interference. The Dupain-Cheng moved into their smaller bakery as it had an apartment upstairs. The perfect front and it was close to the school that they were sending Marinette to for college.

It was all fine and dandy until Marinette and Adrien received their miraculous. Not even a day after they started college. Marinette had taken a liking to the reporter, but she quickly realizes that she is determined, and that kind of determination can last for a long time.

“I’m fine, Dami,” Marinette says to Damian over video chat. She was working on a commission for a client and Adrien was being no help despite being in the same room with her. Damian raises an eyebrow. “I’m serious, they cannot bring me down.”

“She’s lying.” Adrien sings from his position on the chaise. Marinette turns to the blonde model and glares at him.

“Stay sane, Angel. I’m sure she’ll come to her senses.”

“I doubt it, we’re about to graduate lycée and she's still headset of getting Adrien and me together. I’m pretty sure Luka would hate that.” Marinette begins to stitch together the pieces of fabric in front of her.   

“In that case, I will gladly put a sword through her if she doesn’t stop.” Marinette smiles and laughs at the thought of Damian putting a sword through Alya.

“Well your lunch is ending soon, we’ll talk later?” Marinette says pulling her focus away from the outfit and to the clock.

“Father will understand if I ditch the other half a day.”

“Dami…”

“I’ll go Angel.” Damian folded. “Are you still on for date night tomorrow?”

“I would be crazy if I said it wasn’t.” Marinette waves goodbye to the small screen. The screen goes black signaling the end of the call.

“So, what are we going to do about Alya?” Adrien asks and before Marinette could reply, both of their phones go off. “It’s Nino. Asking if I want to hang out with him and Alya.”

Marinette sighs and sends a quick reply. “Alya texted me about wanting to hang out with her rather than Nino.”

A beat past. “She’s setting us up again.” Groans follow through.

With Alya, she is determined, to get Adrienette together by the end of the school year. This was their final year and Marinette never once managed to work up the confidence to ask the blonde model out.

Today, she was staging an “Operation Adrienette” at the Place des Vosges. Everyone that is a part of the akuma class was there. Alya, standing front and center with Lila, points to the easel with a large poster board.

“Here’s the plan. We all know that graduation is coming up soon, and I tend to make it my legacy to ensure Adrienette becomes canon. They have ditched us for the last time and I planned to end that this week.” Alya states pretending to be heartbroken.

Lila couldn’t help but notice how Chloe and Juleka were missing from the meeting. She doesn’t want Adrienette to happen but when she tried to get Marinette expelled in college, during a photoshoot Adrien had to threaten for her to back off and stop messing with his sister. Their other brothers wouldn’t like that. Since that encounter, she made a deal with the duo and learned very quickly how there was no romantic attraction between them, just mischief. The reason for Lila being her is because Alya and the rest of them are still her puppets and she has to play the supportive friend.

“I’m still salty about the last plan. They were supposed to have a romantic time at the ice rink, and nothing came of it. This time I’m planning a romantic dinner where Nino and I would ditch the two for another booth. That way they are forced to interact with each other.”

“What are we going to do if that backfires?” Rose raised her hand inputting her concerns.

“We don’t expect it to.” Alya confidently states.

It was Friday night when the plan went into fruition. Adrien had agreed to meet up with Nino and Alya for whatever they have planned. He ended up dressing up at the request Alya of blowing up his phone under Nino’s contact name.

Alya was hanging off Nino’s arms smiling at the model. It was creeping him out.

“So why am I here?” He finally asks even though he knew the answer already.

“We’re waiting for Marinette; she’d promised that she’ll be here in a moment.” Alya deflects the question, she looks elsewhere, no doubt to find Marinette. “There she is.”

Marinette walks over to the group. Adrien gasps causing Alya and Nino to smugly smile at each other. Marinette was wearing a red and black T-shirt dress with the icon of Robin in the center.

“Hey gurl, glad you can join us.” Alya pulls away from Nino, giving the poor teen his arm back and formerly greets Adrien.

“Not like a had a choice, Alya.” Marinette murmurs under her breath.

“Of course, you did, look you’re already here and let’s go get to our seats.” Alya pushes Marinette towards the door and gestures for Adrien and Nino to follow.

Before they were event seated, Marinette notices the two-seat table. Like that didn’t raise any red flags about this evening. Adrien and Marinette took to the table first while Alya made up an excuse for her and Nino. They took the seats on the opposite side of the restaurant to spy on the couple.

Marinette stares down at Adrien both looking very comfortable with one another. The waiter came to their table asking if they need anything to which Marinette orders water and Adrien saying that he’s just a stand-in. The waiter didn’t question it.

Alya and Nino had ordered their meals and she was getting fed up with the lack of communication between the two. She would have stalked over there if it hadn’t been for Nino holding her back.

Just then, a tall, sleek dark hair, gentlemen walk over to the table. Adrien immediately gives up his seat to the gentlemen, but Marinette got out from her seat to hug the man. Alya was in shock. Marinette even gave the male a kiss on the lips before wishing Adrien out.

Adrien had the nerve to turn to Alya and smirk before walking back to the entrance and out of the restaurant. Marinette and the male happy hold hands across the table and chatted. When the waiter had returned with Marinette’s glass of water, he doesn’t seem surprised to see the new face. Instead, he takes their order and doesn’t return until the order is ready.

Alya watch as the couple happily eat. Anger could not describe what she was feeling. Who was this gut and how dare he hijacks a date she had been planning for weeks? When Nino finally gave his okay, it was after Marinette and her mystery date disappeared out of the restaurant. Alya wanted to scream and shout. Scream to the heavens to let out all the anguish she was suffering from Adrienette and shout at Marinette for daring to bring another dude in while she has a crush on Adrien.

She must break them up. If that is the last thing she does.

Alya didn’t see Marinette nor Adrien for the rest of the weekend. She tried to go to the bakery, but the girl’s parents informed her that Marinette was not home. Everything was a mess.

When she returned to the classroom that following Monday, the class was all wondering how the date went. Did they finally get together? Alya was near a breakdown.

“You, how could you. Do you have any idea what I had to go through?” Alya shouts at the teen at fault for all her problems.

“Look Alya, I didn’t ask to be set up with Adrien. At first, it was hilarious but now it’s affecting both our love life.” Marinette counters taking her seat in the back. Adrien enters the classroom not long after she sat down.

“Excuse you, but you are destined to be with Adrien.” Alya screeches but her cries go unheard by the two siblings.

The teacher walks in and demands the class to sit down. Alya turns to Marinette and mouths, “This is not over” to which Marinette raises an eyebrow.

Another meeting in the Place des Vosges.

“I have called you all here to take incriminated photos of Marinette. I need to gather as much evidence to break up Mari and this supposed boyfriend of hers. Any suggestions?” Alya asks standing in front of the remains of the class that supports her.

“Oh, I’ve been seeing Marinette a lot lately with these two boys. They’re clearly more than a thing.” Lila lies through her teeth. She already knows that wasn’t the truth but Alya didn’t know that.

“Someone that wasn’t her boyfriend?” Alya raises an eyebrow. Lila nods. “Good, that is excellent news.”

It wasn’t excellent news.

The first attempt was a fail. Marinette was hanging out with Nathaniel and they all knew he was in a relationship with Marc. Apparently, the artist was commissioning a scarf as an anniversary gift.

The second attempt was also a fail. Marinette was with this boyfriend of hers getting ice cream together. They were having a romantic evening.

The third attempt was nearly a success until Juleka rained on their parade saying that Luka was in a happy relationship with some dude and Marinette and he was just friends.

It wasn’t until they were on the fourth attempt that they struck gold. Marinette was spending time with two unknown boys. The designer was out and about in the park throwing frisbees. One of the guys picked her up and spun her around before placing a kiss on her cheek. The class cheered at the thought of finally getting Marinette and Adrien together.

Alya was waiting for the opportunity. She didn’t have to wait long. Marinette and the dude were sitting underneath the tree at Place des Vosges.

“Your girlfriend here is a cheating bitch.” Alya states confidently.

Marinette turns to her boyfriend then back to Alya.

“What makes you think that of my beloved.” The guy asks raising an eyebrow. Marinette was still in his lap.

“I got evidence.”

“Pray tell.”

Alya pulls out a stack of photos. She gave them to the boy who examines the photos. He hid his smirk in Marinette’s neck who was hiding her laughter.

“So that’s why they were here. I really need to place boundaries on those idiots.” He says thoughtfully.

“Don’t you dare.” Marinette counters playfully hitting the male’s chest.

“It seems that you have caught my beloved with my imbecile’s brothers. Those photos that you have of them are without consent. I could press charges against you on their behalf.”

Alya was losing every ounce of confidence she had.

Adding oil to the fuel, Adrien walks over to them hand-in-hand with Luka. He greets them and kisses Luka’s lips. Alya wanted to scream. How could all this go so wrong?

“If you need any indication as to how long I’ve been with Marinette, we have been together since she turned thirteen.” He states kissing Marinette’s cheek in the process.

“But…but,” Alya stutters her brain could not comprehend the situation.

“Alya, dating Adrien would be like dating my brother. We’ve been friends since we were in diapers.” Marinette then adds more fuel to the fire, “You and the class would have noticed had you not been set on this Adrienette ship.”

“Yeah, a simple search online and you would see photos of Mari and me at galas, movie premieres, fashion shows. She and Damian have been in news coverage from the first time they announce their relationship to the recent engagement announcement.” Marinette blush at the thought of the giant ring on her ring finger.

“Alya, in a different universe I would proudly be Adrien’s girlfriend but it’s not this universe.”

“Let’s go, future Mrs. Wayne.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Mr. Wayne.”

Marinette and Damian walk out of the park and head to the bakery.

“Better luck next time Alya,” Adrien smiles before he and Luka follows the two.

Alya was lost for words, she would never get her ship canon. She fell on the green pastures and contemplate life decisions.   

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[vampykitty-kun]

Bloodlust - Ch 3

Previous Chapters: - 1 - 2 -

Rating: M

Characters/Pairing: Jason/Tim. Vicki Vale, Tam Fox, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Damian Wayne.

Notes: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pre-reboot canon compliant, Vampires, Mildly Dubious Consent, Blood and Injury, Blood Drinking, Stalking, References to Illness, Fear of Discovery. Original prompt requested by ss-penguin in Ch 1.

Word Count: 1849

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The so called fits of pit rage? A theory. One Bruce had been so very, very wrong about… the man hadn’t even been close.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He awoke in a heap upon the rooftop with the cowl back upon his head covering his face. His head throbbed dully and the previously dislocated shoulder ached something fierce. But all things considered, he was fine. A quick glance down into the alley confirmed that the GCPD had already come through the area and had hauled away the thugs, none the wiser that he had been unconscious up above.

Small miracles he supposed...

It was with great effort that he hauled himself home and slow going without use of his grapple line. But he managed it and stumbled through his window practically on auto pilot before stripping on the way to his bathroom.

No one ever visited that was in the know let alone normal civilians. He figured his gear could wait until morning, and if by some chance it was this lax in security that got him outed, well, then it was clearly meant to be.

As he lay plastered against the shower wall with the hot water streaming over his throbbing shoulder he began to genuinely rethink about hanging up the cowl for good. At least then chances of assault happening within his home were raised. Not the healthiest of thoughts he supposed, but maybe then he at least wouldn't end up laying motionless and defenseless on any more random rooftops.

He ended up face down on his bed, sprawled out on top of his blankets, not caring if his hair got the pillows damp. It was a miracle in itself that he had managed to slip a pair of boxers on before crashing all together.

He might have slept deeply... but the nightmares had him waking just as exhausted the following day.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He could not be certain whether he was just being paranoid or if there really was something just very off from then on out. Having been a member of the Bat-team for so long he was hyper aware of his surroundings, and he just could not shake the feeling of being watched. Whether Jason was following through with his threat of “we'll see” or it was a figment of his imagination expecting Jason to be watching him, he didn't know. Regardless it had him twitchy, and by the third day he was so exhausted and on edge that he really couldn't be blamed for over reacting- at least by those in the know.

The general Gotham population? Well there he wasn't so lucky...

He had forgotten all about Vicki Vale and her pursuit of making his life public knowledge, and miserable.

Tim had felt someone come up behind him just barely twenty feet from Wayne Tower's entrance, had seen the faintest bit of brisk movement out of the corner of his vision, and while absolutely shocked that this was happening to him on a public street in broad daylight with a massive crowd, he had jumped and swung without first seeing.

His fist had hit the cameraman right in the jaw with a sickening crunch- dislocated no doubt, and he had gaped in horror at the sight of the man screaming as knelt on the ground clutching his face, camera busted on the cement at his side. Vale was in an equal state of shock behind the man, eyes wide and unable to fully process what had just happened, until of course she had managed to shake it off faster than him. She dialed 9-1-1 while he stood there sputtering, and by the time she had hung up he was babbling his utmost apology, vibrating as he dropped his remaining crutch and sat on his knees beside the man.

“I am so unbelievably sorry, I didn't know, honest, I just heard someone run up behind me and I panicked, trust me, I did not intend to punch you as a camera man, I meant to punch a stalker-” at this Vicki suddenly smirked, tilted her head back slightly, and he blanched further “n-not that I have a stalker, I'm just a bit jumpy, and I'm....I'm just really, really sorry. I'll pay your entire medical bill- and for your camera... I'm so sorry...” He groaned, running a hand down his face in mortification.

Of all the things to happen the last thing he needed was this.

He supposed he should be grateful that he had not punched Vale in the face instead. Riots could have broken out, and the Wayne lawyers would be even more heavily burdened than they were probably about to be.

Bruce was going to kill him.

Or, well... stare at him judgmentally, probably secretly wondering if he had done it on purpose. Because he was different now in his eyes, questionable, untrustworthy...

Tim felt sick.

Vale on the other hand looked far too happy for the current situation which didn't bode well for him.

“Oh it's no problem Mr. Wayne, I know you didn't mean to go after my camera man, you are not at all like the every day celebrity. You don't get drunk, or aggressive, or vengeful and get violent with us...” she nodded, and despite himself all he could do was blink. “No, otherwise you would have started swinging during or after prior stories. The worst you give, dear Timothy, is a glare. Just like Bruce.”

Tim swallowed roughly and gave a curt nod. To his relief the sirens were approaching. Any second now they would come to load the poor man up and he would be able to make his escape.

He could deal with the lawyers later...

“I- It really was a mistake, Ms. Vale. I've just had a really stressful month, and not much sleep... deadlines you know...”

He could tell she didn't believe him in the slightest as she grinned at him.

“Oh, I'm sure...”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

When Tim had finally managed to make it into Wayne Tower, he was ashamed to admit that he spaced out almost the entirety of the business meeting, and Tam- bless her heart, managed to give him enough of a lead for him to comment towards the end and wrap things up awkwardly, even despite her cold shoulder.

The trip home was strenuous, having wrenched his injured shoulder in the reporter scuffle, and by the time he finally managed to get through his front door he whipped the crutches across the room in a fit of frustration, and didn't even bother heading for the shower. He threw on a pot of tea, spent the entirety of the time it took to boil banging his head on the side of the fridge, muttering to himself about how stupid he had been, and when he finally made his way to the couch he collapsed in the corner of it a sprawl of loose limbs.

What had become of his life?

Who had he pissed off to get to this point?

Tim was tired of the pressure, of the stress, of the fatigue... he was tired of being criticized and judged by those he called family and friends. He regretted ever committing to the crutches. Some days it was quite honestly too hard to act- pretend.

These days all he seemed to do was pretend.

Despite the tea he still managed to pass out on the couch.

He skipped patrol that night.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Tim awoke with a start, having manged at some point during the night to make it into his bedroom, saving him even more cramped muscles, and flailed his good arm around desperately searching for the source of the incessant ringing that had startled him awake.

His heart felt like it was trying to beat right out of his chest as his slid his thumb across the screen, and slurring he plastered the phone against his ear. He was never so grateful for blackout curtains than he was on this morning.

“ e'llo?” He grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You punched a reporter?!” To Tim's surprise it was Dick's voice on the other end of the line.

But even more so-

“I- What?” he stumbled over his words, sitting up abruptly- which turned out to be a bad idea as dizziness washed over him from moving too quickly so soon after waking.

“It's all over the TV Tim. You punched a reporter. Or at least the guy holding the camera. It's all over the news. They have you on camera- at least until it hit the pavement, and then the video cuts out.”

He whined and let his head fall back against the headboard.

“Oh my god, I can't believe I held out hope that the footage died with the camera...” he groaned. “In my defense I didn't know I was hitting a reporter, I just knew someone was following me, heard them coming up behind me, and thought I was about to get jumped.”

“In broad daylight? In a crowd?”

“I was tired and hadn't had enough coffee yet...” he muttered.

“Your only saving grace is that Vale went on to say that, not that it stopped her from making the story obviously, but on the plus side they are not pressing charges. Alfred's already gone through the motions of paying the medical costs and replacing the poor guy's equipment. You really clocked him good. Someone's going to be eating through a straw the next few weeks...”

“Oh my god, Dick, why...”

“Exactly what I want to know, why?” The man probed, and suddenly Tim wanted to just smother himself in his pillows, because he knew what was coming. “Are you being stalked? Because Vicki went into detail about how you had been afraid recently, weren't sleeping, and had been jumpy- causing you to over-react when they approached you.”

And yes, hadn't that been a stupid case of rambling for the record books...

“No, Dick, I was flustered and freaking out because I punched a civilian and trying to come up with some excuse that didn't lead to several months of sitting in court with lawyers.”

“Well, it did work.” The man laughed.

“Except now I'm yet again I'm poor Tim Drake-Wayne worried for his life, while I'm still in crutches from the last time, and the last thing I need is pity or for Wayne Enterprises to get all flustered and start trying to demand I have a body guard because they don't know.”

Dick sighed.

“Bruce can handle that. If he doesn't get a body guard after all the stuff that's happened to him rather than 'Batman', they sure can't try and force one on you. It'll work out, you'll see. But only if you're sure you're not being stalked- it's okay to be embarrassed Tim, but Bruce has had his fair share of crazies try and follow him around,  it's nothing to be ashamed of if something is up.” He chirped lightly.

Tim only glared at the dark ceiling.

“I'm hanging up now.”

There was only laughter as he tapped his screen. Then only silence once more.

He wasn't getting out of bed...

[lusilly]

the ship we sail

Happy Nabil Day! I was hoping I’d finish this in time.

When Damian is 19, he graduates Princeton with a double major in Architecture and Finance, his father permits him to return to his regular nighttime activities, and he takes a trip to Europe, to meet up with his ex-girlfriend and his former teammate (the one who shot him in the back).

Obviously tucked neatly in between Restoration and Fiat iusticia. I took inspiration from the unfinished story of Damian traveling around Europe with Dick and Jay, since SO much has changed by then I couldn’t possibly hope to recover that fic lmao.

title taken from a metasciences song on this mix           

           Damian was working in his room, his wide artist’s desk covered with massive sketching paper on which he meticulously measured corners and bisected lines, working on his revised draft of the proposed Martha Wayne Building. In his ears were tucked small earbuds, bouncing a relaxing indie playlist directly against his eardrums.

           The curtains were drawn, blocking out the fading evening sun. From his door came a gentle knock. So absorbed in his music and his work, Damian did not notice immediately; the knock paused, then came once again, louder now. If Damian noticed, he did not answer. Another, longer pause: and then the doorknob twisted and the door swung open. At the threshold, Damian’s father knocked once more against the open door, then called, “Damian.”

           At the sound of his name, Damian immediately stopped and twisted around in his seat. Looking at his father, he pulled the earbuds out and asked, “What?”

           “Do you have a minute?”

           A hint of suspicion entered Damian’s face. “Why?” he asked.

           Bruce gave a shrug, entering the room. “I need a reason to have a conversation with my son?”

           It looked like Damian had a response to this, but he held his tongue. Setting aside the mechanical pencil in his hand, he gestured towards his bed, offering his father a seat. Bruce obliged, leaving the door open.

           There was a small silence between them, as Damian turned in his seat to face his father. It wasn’t exactly awkward; the past year had been a long and difficult one, and there had been growing pains of the variety they both had once thought they’d overcome. And yet grown they had, and come out the other side intact and, Bruce was certain, although Damian might agree – both better for it.

           Hands clasped before him, Bruce leaned forward, locking eyes with his son. For not the first time Damian wondered at how clear and harsh his father’s irises were, the steely blue of the sky during a clear winter day in Gotham. Damian had not inherited his father’s eyes: his were an earthy dark brown, darker even than his mother’s. He did not know where his dark eyes came from; his grandfather too had Talia's honey-hazel eyes. He could only assume the black of his eyes came from his mother’s mother. He would never know.

           To Damian’s absolute surprise, Bruce led with this: “You���ve done very well this past year, Damian. I’m very proud of you. I hope you know that.”

           Damian’s eyebrows shot upwards. He halfway glanced around him, as if checking to make sure that the rest of the family wasn’t lurking in the corners of his room, waiting to jump out and shout, Surprise!

           Graciously, Bruce gave a little nod and admitted, “You had a rough start. But we made it through. I’m very impressed at how hard you’ve been working at school this past semester – your symposium was extraordinary. I had no idea how much time and effort you’d been putting into your project.”

           “It’s a thesis,” corrected Damian. “Not a project.”

           “Your thesis,” agreed Bruce, bowing his head in apology. “Listen, Damian. My point is, I believe it’s time to put your regular patrol back on the table.”

           Bruce had expected Damian to light up at the opportunity; on the contrary, his son just eyed him warily. “On the table,” echoed Damian. “What does that mean?”

           “It means I don’t expect you to resume your old schedule and duties all at once,” Bruce answered. “You’re out of practice.”

           “Whose fault is that?”

           “Yours,” answered Bruce calmly, with no malice in his voice. “But you’ve served your penance, and you’ve proved to me how responsible you can be. You deserve it.”

           Damian still only watched his father, a slight frown on his brow. He tapped his left index finger against his desk, in bursts of threes. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three.

           “You really trust me with this?” asked Damian. “You’re prepared to allow me to return to Robin?”

           “Knowing you,” sighed Bruce, “I expect you never really left.” He gave his son a furtive little smile. “But yes. It’s time. Of course I trust you.”

           “Even after everything I did?”

           “Even after all of that. You aren’t the first of us to make a mistake, Damian.”

           “It was a lot of mistakes.”

           Bruce watched his son, though kept the smile on his face. “Why does it feel like you’re trying to make a fight out of this?”

           Damian’s jaw clenched as he stared at his father blankly, as if looking straight past him. Then he let out a long breath and turned back to the designs before him, fiddling with the side of the paper. “I don’t know. It’s been a long time without it.”

           “Almost a year.”

           “I applied to grad school,” said Damian, suddenly. He glanced at his father. “And I got in.”

           Taken aback, Bruce blinked at his son. He had not known this. “Oh,” he said. “Congratulations. Where?”

           “UCLA.”

           Los Angeles. Far away from dark, dingy Gotham. For some reason, there was a sharp, piercing pain deep in Bruce’s chest.

           All the same, Bruce managed to ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Damian shrugged. “Does Alfred know?” Damian shook his head. “For an MBA?”

           “MFA.”

           Art. This was a lot to take in at once. Bruce took a deep breath, and sat up straight, blinking at the ground. Then he looked up at his son. “Are you going to go?”

           Damian watched his father. That look of almost-boredom had returned to his expression. He gave a noncommittal half-shrug, then shook his head. “No,” he said, looking back at the designs on his desk. “Probably not.”

           Quickly, genuinely, Bruce said, “If you want it, you should go. Of course you should go.”

           “I don’t really want to,” said Damian, taking up his pencil again, tracing down a line. “I just thought I’d apply, in case my career as Robin was over and I had to find something else to live for.” He glanced up at his father and saw how this troubled him, so he added, “I'm joking. I wouldn’t be your son if I didn’t have contingencies upon contingencies. This was just one of them.”

           Bruce was unsure about the direction of this conversation. “So…you do want to return to Robin.”

           “I do, yes,” answered Damian smartly, as if this were a business negotiation. “Although I think you’re right. It would be unwise to jump back into it completely. I’d like to ease my way back in.”

           “Of course. I can ask Dick to visit, if you’d like to having him patrol with you when I can’t.”

           “No, it’s fine. Ellen and her team are good enough, and Tim’s in town if we need him.”

           Damian resumed sketching at his desk. Somehow Bruce didn’t feel like this conversation was over.

           In gray early morning, when the Batman returned from patrol and retired to bed, Bruce had sometimes lain awake and allowed his mind to wander. This was when he allowed time for his most acute fears to enter his mind, those he could not admit in the daytime nor on the job. When Damian was fourteen, and his OCD was beginning to manifest in compulsions and imagined and real violence, Bruce had spent many dawns wondering what treatment might do to his son. He had steeled himself for the possibility that with medication and counselling, Damian might not want to return to Robin. It wasn’t the first time it had occurred to Bruce that being Robin might be bad for a child, but Damian had always slipped into the role so easily, as if he had been waiting his whole life for the mantle.

           In the end, treatment had only made Damian more ready and capable to take on his work as Robin – it had allowed him to connect in meaningful ways with the Titans, particularly with one young Iris West. Even though it had been over a year since the end of their relationship and the dissolution of the Titans, it was still clear to Bruce that Damian missed them terribly. He missed friendship, connection; intimacy. All these things from which the Batman had for so many years had forbidden himself.

           “Damian,” said Bruce. “Listen to me.”

           Damian paused in his sketching to glance at his father.

           Very seriously, very clearly, Bruce told his son: “You should know that you don’t have to go back to Robin. You never have to, if you don’t want to.”

           “Of course I want to,” said Damian, annoyance flickering across his face.

           “All I’m saying,” Bruce continued, “is that this doesn’t have to be forever. You don’t owe anything to me, and you certainly don’t owe anything to this city.”

           Damian stared at Bruce for one moment. His jaw jumped slightly, then he turned back to the desk before him, then once more turned around to address Bruce. “How can you say that to me?” he asked, though it was with half-hearted venom, as if the words tasted bitter in his mouth. “My whole life I’ve been trained for one thing, and now you’re telling me all that was purposeless?”

           Taken aback, Bruce began, “That’s not what I said.”

           Shaking his head, Damian turned back to his work, though he did not once more place pencil against paper. Bruce reached out and put a hand on his son’s shoulder.  “It’s all right, son. I hope you know that I value your happiness and health over anything else you could be for me. Batman and Robin, the Cave, all of that? It doesn’t matter. Not compared to you.”

           “Yes it does,” Damian murmured. Bruce didn’t argue with him.

            After another moment of silence, Damian spoke once more.

           “I’d like to go abroad,” he said.

           Bruce raised an eyebrow.

           “Not permanently,” he added, glancing at his father. “Not – as Robin. Which I do want. I do. But if you really do trust me, then I think I should be able to spend some time…alone. Away from Gotham.”

           Bruce considered this. “Where abroad?”

           Damian answered immediately. “London.”

           London, where he could explore the English moors of part of his childhood. London, where Damian had been handed off to Bruce by Talia in the first place. Bruce felt a dull ache in his stomach.

           “Fine,” said Bruce. “You can take the jet. Or fly commercial if you like. I don’t mind either way.” He paused, then added, “I have just one request.”

           Damian nodded anxiously at his father.

           With a wry little smile, Bruce said, “You must stay for your graduation first.” Damian started to make a face, and Bruce continued, “No, no. You’ve spent three years at Princeton, you’ve put so much work into this degree – degrees, I mean – and I won’t let you walk away from it without being properly honored.”

           With a roll of his eyes, Damian argued, “It’s just a ceremony. It’ll be boring – if you’re coming there’ll be paparazzi, it’ll be awful-”

           “It will be very nice,” said Bruce firmly. “I look forward to it.”

           Patting his son on the shoulder, Bruce got to his feet.

           “I’m very proud of you, Damian,” he said. “And I love you very much.”

           Damian just kind of shrugged him off. Bruce waited expectantly.

           When Damian noticed, he let out a loud breath. “I love you too,” he muttered, like chewing glass. “Will you leave me alone to do my work now?”

—

           Damian graduated on a warm, clear day in June; he wore his gown over a three-piece suit, stole and cords draped around his neck. Bruce Wayne and his family had special VIP seats, and they cheered for Damian when he crossed the stage to receive his diploma.

           Because Damian did not like paparazzi, and because he had made no friends at Princeton with whom he’d like to share any final moments together at university, they left the event quickly. By nightfall Damian had one single small bag packed. Alfred drove him to the airport, and gave him a hug before he passed through security. Damian reluctantly returned the embrace, feeling slightly awkward when Alfred squeezed his arm and told him, “You cannot know how proud you have made this old man, Master Damian.”

           He flew business class into London Heathrow, then drove into the heart of London to take up residence in a Penthouse flat Bruce kept on reserve as a safehouse there. It was empty and cold. There was a master bedroom, and then a smaller bedroom off the kitchen. Damian left his small suitcase in the smaller bedroom, but did not unpack.

           The last time he’d been in London had been spent mostly ushering him around in tunnels beneath the city, only to release him onto the docks to meet his father for the first time. After the dissolution of the Titans, his father had brought him back to England on his request, but they had spent two days and a night there only, just enough time for Damian to visit the compound where he was raised, then leave and promise himself never to return.

           Damian spent his day in London, lingering in the pews of St. Paul’s. The gigantic structure was familiar to him somehow, old and dignified. As he sat on the bare wooden pew, staring up at the stained glass before him, he thought his mother must’ve taken him here before. He was sure of it.

           Before the sun had fully risen come the next morning, Damian took a taxi all the way out to London Gatwick airport, where he boarded a plane with a fake British passport (although technically he was born on British soil, and he had considered before filing for dual citizenship). He flew economy, sitting in the window seat of a row filled by an elderly couple speaking rapidly in Hungarian. Damian had been taught the language years ago, but was not overly familiar with it: he spent the flight listening to the old couple intently, puzzling together the syntax and the vocabulary from context. When the plane landed, before he disembarked, Damian turned to the older couple and said, “Remélem szép napod van.”

           The first thing Damian did in Budapest was buy a burner phone and send a text to a number he had already memorized. After that, he went to his hotel and checked in under an assumed name. It was a good hotel, though not of the grandiose sort his father always picked, and it was more secure than a safehouse, anyhow – depending on from whom you wanted security.

           June is burning hot in Budapest, and Damian shed his jacket before venturing out once more into the city. He rolled up the sleeves of his nice button-up shirt as he walked, eyes obscured by gold-rimmed sunglasses. Regretfully, he wished he’d thought to bring his water bottle with him – he so hated buying plastic disposable water bottles, no matter how thirsty the searing sun shining relentlessly down from the bright blue sky made him.

           He crossed a bridge to the eastern side of the city, Pest, then turned immediately to descend a flight of worn stone steps leading down to the bank of the River Danube. The river was low today, and a muddy green. He sat alongside the bank, hanging his legs off the edge. His toes very nearly breached the surface of the water.

           Taking the burner phone out of his pocket, he sent another text to that same mysterious number. Then he placed the phone down on the stone bank beside him, and leaned back at his hands, watching the sun glitter across the Danube.

           She appeared beside him like a cool breeze on the hot summer day; one moment she was not there, and then suddenly appeared a body by his side, her red hair fluttering slightly in the gust that heralded her arrival.

           Iris West sat close enough on the edge of the bank that her leg brushed against his, and Damian could not help the pang of something in his chest, as if his heart skipped a beat. She smiled at him. They had not seen one another in over a year, since Damian walked away from the Titans, and from her. Even now, Damian could not say exactly why he had left: he had been scared, and hurt, and these vulnerabilities had been too painful to touch, much less admit to the girl he loved.

           The word turned over and over again in Damian’s mind in the few seconds that she smiled at him, before any words passed either of their lips. Loved. I loved you.

           It felt like an eternity ago.

           “Hey,” she said.

           He realized he hadn’t returned her smile, but knew that it would look even more forced if he tried now. “Hello,” he answered. “Where’s Lian?”

           “She’s on her way,” said Iris, nodding up towards the bridge. “She said I should probably run ahead, so you and I could get over the whole awkward-exes thing before she gets here.”

           “Ah,” said Damian. “That’s wise.”

           “Yeah,” said Iris.

           There was a pause. It was, in fact, awkward.

           “So,” began Iris, “is that not going to happen, or…?”

           Despite himself, Damian felt a small flicker of anger; this was easy for her, obviously. She had spent the year or so in the arms of someone else, exploring a new world, with no one to stop her or punish her as he had been punished. He knew precisely how petty it was, but it wasn’t fair.

           It hurt Damian, to still have that anger in him, that bitterness and resentment, after all the time and effort he’d put into purging it from his mind and soul. He was better now, he was sure of it: he had worked so hard, paid his price, completed his penance. And yet.

           Damian turned his body to face her, but did not quite catch her eye. “Lian told me this had to do with business.”

           Iris’s face didn’t fall, which Damian admired. “It does. But one doesn’t do business with one’s ex-girlfriend without feeling a little weird about it, so let’s air out some dirty laundry before my current girlfriend gets here, OK?”

           Abruptly, Damian asked, “You’re still seeing Lian?”

           “Yes,” said Iris.

           Glumly, Damian looked out at the water. “I was half hoping you’d lie to me.”

           “I told myself I wouldn’t,” answered Iris, watching him. “Lian said it was fine, but I respect you too much to do that to you.”

           “You shouldn’t,” said Damian bitterly. “I don’t deserve it.”

           Iris put a hand on Damian’s arm. “Yes, you do. But don’t expect me to try and console you too hard, you’re gonna have to find another significant other to take care of that one.”

           “I’m trying this new thing,” remarked Damian, forced levity in his voice. “It’s called, being alone.”

           “Oh? You sure that’s new, Damian? Because you always gave me the impression that was your default state of being. All dark and broody, you get it from your dad, I bet.” Her dark eyes watched him intently, with a gaze half-human, almost reptilian in focus. For one moment, consumed by her gaze, Damian thought about telling her everything: about the club, about the women and men whose names he didn’t know, about Colin, about Nell. About being banned from his role as Robin for almost a year now, a refusal of the identity he sometimes thought defined him more than being himself did.

           Iris reached up and cupped his face in one hand, brushing her thumb across his cheek.

           “I missed you,” she said.

           Damian couldn’t pull his eyes away from hers. She was mesmerizing: he had forgotten, almost, the electricity of her touch, how she always seemed crackling with energy and power, even when she sat calmly beside him on the bank of a river. The thought occurred to him to lean over and kiss her, but the moment it rose it twisted and squirmed in his stomach, making him feel ill.

           She removed her hand, and before Damian could say anything else, the burner phone on the stone on the other side of him flew in a wide arc across the water, then sunk into the depths. Pulse skyrocketing with adrenaline, Damian whipped around, ready to fight, instinctually dropping into a defensive stance in front of Iris – and then he stopped.

           “Oh,” he said.

           “Calm the fuck down, Bruce Lee,” Lian said, rolling her eyes at Damian. “You had to get rid of that burner sometime, didn’t you?” Ignoring Damian, who still stood, Lian lowering herself to sit on the bank, leaving room for Damian between herself and Iris. For a moment, she massaged the toe which had kicked the phone, then she dropped her legs. Significantly shorter than either Iris or Damian, Lian’s feet didn’t even come close to touching the water. She swung them up and down against the stone, like a kid in a high chair. To Iris, she asked, “Are you guys done, or is this going to continue to be uncomfortable for all of us? Because, honestly, if it’s the latter option I might as well just drown myself right now-”

           “Just as tactful as ever I see, Lian,” said Damian, slowly lowering himself to sit between the two girls.

           “And you’re just as annoying as ever,” she replied sharply, pinching at the sleeve of his fancy dress shirt. “Is it possible for you to just like, chill out and wear a t-shirt for once in your goddamn life?”

           “I think you look good,” added Iris.

           “I mean, you look good,” continued Lian pointedly, “but that shirt is way too expensive to sweat right through. Why don’t we go find someplace to eat?”

           Gesturing at the empty riverbank around them, Damian asked, “Didn’t you want somewhere clandestine?”

           “Yeah, but that was before I realized you were going to die of heatstroke. Come on,” she said, getting to her feet, then offering a hand to Damian. When Damian looked unconvinced, she waved her hand impatiently at him. “Come on, it’s not like anyone genuinely followed you all the way out here to Budapest. Who gives that much of a shit about a kid who isn’t even Robin anymore?”

           Something stabbed through Damian’s heart, constricting his lungs with iron wires. In disbelief, he glanced around at Iris, who offered him an apologetic smile. “We might have been…keeping tabs on you.”

           “I happen to have a contact with insider knowledge about your whole family,” said Lian, causing Damian’s head to snap around to look at her once again. She grinned at him. “I know all your secrets, little bird.”

           “She’s kidding,” said Iris, over his shoulder. “Every once in a while Dick tells stuff to her dad, and her dad tells her. Like, I heard you graduated college! Congrats!”

           Numbly, Damian answered, “Thanks.”

           After a moment’s uncertain pause, Iris got to her feet, and with Lian’s help they managed to tug Damian upright. “C’mon,” said Iris, leading the way. “We passed this yummy place earlier, it smelled so good…”

           It was a small café, and they slid into a booth in a corner. Damian sat with his back against the wall, so he could keep his eyes on both entrances to the place. Iris sat next to him, and Lian across from them both. Iris ordered appetizers as soon as they sat down, starting with an order of calamari and prosciutto e melone.

           After the waiter went away, Damian looked at Lian and asked, “So would you like to tell me, finally, why this isn’t a conversation we could’ve had within the borders of the United States?”

           “Mostly ‘cause I figured you could use a break,” answered Lian, with a shrug. “Isn’t good for a young kid like yourself to be stuck inside that shithole of a city for too long.”

           “Young kid,” repeated Damian, with just a hint of venom. “I’m older than you are.”

           Lian didn’t protest, but replied, “Barely. Anyhow, Iris and I have been busy taking down big crime rings all over Europe, and we didn’t exactly have time for a trip back home just to talk with you.”

           “Iris is a,” began Damian, but the waiter appeared again, bringing the calamari and prosciutto-wrapped cantaloupe. He waited until the server was once more gone, then lowered his voice and restarted. “Iris is a speedster, and you’re trying to tell me you didn’t have time to come back?”

           Lian’s half-smile didn’t falter. “Not if we were only coming to see you, no.”

           This did not hurt, because Damian had preemptively steeled himself against Lian’s harshness, and also because it was almost like some kind of a relief to have someone here with him who didn’t put up with any of his whining. And not in a patronizing way, like his father – but just because she didn’t care. It would be nice, Damian thought, it would be a blessing, if he could learn from Lian how to care less.

           “You two haven’t seen your parents in over a year,” Damian said, leaning back slightly in his seat. Beside him, Iris dipped the calamari generously into the tartar sauce she had requested. “You wouldn’t return home to reassure them you’re safe?”

           “My mom and dad actually visited us a couple months ago,” Iris piped up, holding a calamari ring in hand; then she paused, made a face, and corrected, “Well, not at the same time – my mom flew in for a few days in Paris, but my dad visited when we were in Berlin.”

           Damian glanced at Iris, then his gaze flickered back to Lian, who said nothing. He knew for a fact that Lian had not seen her father since they left. She had not seen anyone, really, since the disaster with the Titans the previous year.

           He wondered if she felt guilt, like he did. After all, he may have been the one to trigger the psychic control in Iris’s mind, but Lian had been the one to implant it in Iris’s head in the first place. And last time he and Lian had seen each other, she’d poisoned him, dislocated his jaw, broke three ribs, and shot him in the back.

           So: yeah, a normal person should be feeling a little bit of guilt, even if she had been mind-controlled by her assassin mother at the time. Damian figured Lian was just good at hiding it which, again, was another thing to begrudgingly admire her for.

           “Why me?” asked Damian, his voice low. “What could I possibly do for you that you couldn’t get more easily from someone else?”

           “It’s not a matter of ease,” answered Lian coolly. “You’re here right now not because you’re the only one who can help us, but you are the only one who’ll keep his mouth shut about it.”

           Damian’s pulse quickened slightly. His first thought was that they were about to ask him to join them, to utilize the skills he’d been taught for years now to repress. In that split second, he made his decision: Yes. I would kill for them.

           Then, disgusted at himself, he immediately drove that thought from his brain.

           “Damian,” said Iris, nudging him, holding up a piece of cantaloupe. “You want some?”

           Barely glancing at her, Damian replied, “I can’t, I’m vegetarian.”

           “I know,” replied Iris, with a dopey grin. “I took the prosciutto off. Seriously, Damian? We dated for two years and you think I don’t remember you don’t eat meat?”

           She held the cantaloupe up to his face, as if to pop it into his mouth; he plucked it out of his fingers, then said to Lian, “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

           Taking a calamari ring off the plate, Lian replied bluntly, “I need fifteen thousand dollars and enough weaponry to pass as a small arms trafficker.”

           Damian watched Lian as she popped the calamari into her mouth. He, too, took a thoughtful bite of his cantaloupe. Iris said, “Do either of you want the spaghetti? I kind of do but I also kind of want the schnitzel. You can get the spaghetti with a mushroom sauce, Damian, no meat.” Neither Damian nor Lian replied.

           Iris’s gaze flickered from her girlfriend to her ex, and then she added, “It’s for a good thing, y’know. We wouldn’t be asking for it if it wasn’t.”

           Sharply, Damian said, “I know.”

           “Then what’s the problem?” asked Lian, leaning in across the table. Clearly she and Iris had been staying in sunny regions, for Lian’s skin was deeply tanned such that she was within a shade or two of Damian’s own coloring, which had darkened over the past few months as he spent more time outside tending to his garden, and less time in uniform in the dark. “If you trust us, a loan and some tech shouldn’t be a problem.”

           Staring at her, Damian asked, “Is it really a loan, Lian?”

           Almost before Damian had finished answering his question, Iris nudged him in the ribs and offered, “It could be if you wanted, though I know you’re more generous than that.”

           “With a billionaire daddy like yours,” Lian added wryly, “it’d be pretty selfish not to be.”

           “If you wanted a grant from my father, there actually exists an organization for that,” Damian said curtly. “I’m sure Batman, Incorporated would be happy to help you with your missions.”

           “Sure,” said Lian. “But we didn’t go to Batman Inc., now, did we? We came to you.”

           “Why?” demanded Damian, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. “It’s not like you don’t-”

           The waiter returned again, this time asking for entrees. Lian got a hamburger; Iris ordered the schnitzel. Damian got the mushroom linguine, and a Manhattan.

           Voice lowered once more, Damian leaned forward, pointing an accusatory finger at Lian. “You don’t need money,” he whispered. “You’ve got the entire Queen fortune behind you if you wanted, I don’t know why you think you have the right to drag me out here-”

           Rolling her eyes, Lian began, “Oh, my God, Damian, I didn’t drag you out here, I sent you one goddamn text. Besides, obviously this is the sort of money I can’t ask my dad for, but I’d hoped you’d be tactful enough not to point that out. I already feel bad enough about leaving him as is.”

           “You could always go back,” suggested Damian, feeling cold and angry inside for reasons he could not accurately define. “You could, oh, I don’t know, go back to being a regular fucking nineteen-year-old instead of backpacking around Europe under the guise of crime fighting.”

           Coolly, Lian correctly, “I’m eighteen.”

           “Oh, don’t be condescending,” sighed Iris, reaching out to paw at Damian, pull him back across the table so he no longer leaned threateningly towards Lian. “All of us needed a break after what happened with the Titans, you know that. We’re just using our break to do some good.”

           This struck at Damian’s heart, as if deliberate. “As opposed to me,” he shot back at her, “who spent the past year feeling sorry for myself, is that what you’re trying to say?”

           “No,” said Iris, placing a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “No, of course not-”

           Flinching violently away from her touch, Damian continued heatedly, “I didn’t ask for this, you know. I never asked to be Robin and I certainly never asked to quit. So you don’t get to sit there and judge me, Lian, pretend like you’re doing the world some great service while I sit at home and twiddle my thumbs – you don’t fool me. This isn’t about saving the world. It’s about indulging yourself.”

           “Maybe it is,” answered Lian, her eyes glinting, knife-like, but she goaded him no further. If Damian realized that him speaking loudly and openly about his dual life as Robin was the most unsettling thing about this conversation so far, he made no indication of it.

           There was a moment’s uncomfortable silence, then Iris leaned back in her seat and sighed, “That’s a little bit unfair. Pretty much all we ever did with the Titans was self-indulgent bullshit.”

           Lian added, “Except for trying to kill each other, that is.”

           “Nobody ended up dead,” Iris pointed out, with a nod towards Lian. “So it’s fine.”

           Damian turned to Iris and, pitilessly, he said: “Your brother is in a coma, Irey. He’s on life support. It’s – fine?”

           All warmth immediately evaporated from Iris’s expression. She looked, suddenly, steely and frightening, so quickly and completely that it made her smile seem so insincere.

           Lian glared at Damian.

           Quietly, she told him, “I’ve been tracking my mother for eight months now. We’re almost there, but I can’t get to the finish line alone. I need your help, and I’m not too proud to ask for it.”

           “Yeah, right,” Damian shot back derisively. “As if you would’ve ever come to me, had Iris not been here with you.”

           “Don’t flatter yourself,” said Iris shortly. “I didn’t want to call you.”

           This hurt Damian, and he suspected that she intended it to do so.

           Food arrived. It smelled delicious, and none of them spoke any more than a mumbled, “Thank you,” to the server until their meals were distributed.

           Lian dragged a French fry through ketchup as Iris cut into her schnitzel. Damian did not touch his food; he could not, he felt ill. Passing through time zones had caused him to sleep at odd hours, and somewhere along the way he had missed a dose of medication.  He could not stand the idea of eating. Any other symptoms, for the moment he buried them deep, refusing to feel their familiar sting.

           Tightly, as the girls ate, Damian said: “So you’ve tipped your hand. You need money and resources to go after Cheshire. Is that it?”

           “Ding-ding-ding,” said Lian, hardly looking up at him. “No shit, Sherlock.”

           “You could’ve led with that.”

           “What, and stir up your own assassin-based mommy issues? No thanks.”

           This felt like a lie, but Damian couldn’t tell. “Fifteen thousand dollars,” he said.

           With an exaggerated shrug, Lian said, “That’s nothing. A drop in the pond for the Waynes.”

           Or the al Ghuls. Perhaps out of spite for Lian’s crack about mommy issues, Damian’s mind went immediately to the offshore account his mother had opened for him last year, when he turned eighteen. He had never touched a cent of that money, ashamed and angry at his mother for it. But…there was no sense in leaving a growing bank account there to rot.

           “And weaponry?”

           “Basic stuff,” added Iris. “Nothing too fancy. We could probably buy our own with a little more money, but that leaves a paper trail, so. You know.”

           “Ironic,” said Damian, his dark eyes focused on Lian, who ate her food methodically, without looking at him. “That a girl named Arsenal would be looking to fill up her stock.”

           “I have enough of what I have,” said Lian. “What we’re looking for isn’t tasers and boxing-glove arrows, Damian, it’s firearms. Real stuff. The kind of things we’re not allowed to use in our line of work.”

           “So, what, you’re racketeering like Red Hood now?”

           “We just need enough to front, it’s not like we need to make a profit on this.”

           Clearly troubled, Damian muttered, “Certainly if it’s not a fucking loan, anyway.”

           There was a silence. It was cool inside the restaurant, despite the windows thrown open to allow fresh air flowing through the small space. The place was entirely lit by natural light which spilled in from the windows, with high ceilings and a wrought iron spiral staircase up into a concealed second floor. Lian and Iris had checked the place out earlier, searched for bugs, set up dampeners. It was safe to speak here. Damian did not know this, and yet he had been the most reckless of the three of them in their conversation, paying no regard to keeping secrets he had been raised to treasure above all else. Vaguely, Lian wondered if this was because he had been out of uniform for so long, or if there was something else going on, something that had changed Damian more than she knew.

           He tapped his fingers against the dark wood of the table. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three.

           The girls ate in silence. Damian’s Manhattan rested sadly before his plate, untouched.

           “I’ll do it,” he said.

           Lian stopped. She exchanged a glance with Iris, then looked back at Damian warily.

           He held up one finger. “On one condition.”

           While Lian made a face, Iris nodded. “OK,” she said. “OK, what’s that?”

           For a long moment Damian said nothing. He placed both of his hands on the flat of the table, then curled them both into fists, as if gathering up the courage to hit something.

           Then he said, “Don’t contact me. Don’t talk to me, don’t call me or ask me to fly across an ocean to see you. We don’t make this,” he gestured between the three of them, at their food, “a thing that happens anymore. You don’t tell me what you’re doing, whose contracts you’re taking, what missions you’ve completed. I don’t want to know any of it, and I don’t want to hear from you.” He cast a look, almost apologetic, Iris’s way. “Either of you. It’s time – it’s time I moved forward. No. It’s time I moved on.”

           Damian did not know this, because the only way he had learned to protect his heart was to pretend he could not tell what others felt, how badly he could hurt them, but he had misjudged, terribly, how much he meant to both of the women beside him. And yet there was no safe way to tell him otherwise. They needed him; and if this was the only way he would fulfill their need, then they did not have much of a choice.

           “OK,” said Lian, taken aback. Half-sarcastically, she asked, “Am I allowed to hit you up for more money, or is that like, also a thing we’re not going to be doing?”

           He considered this, then answered, “Message me when you need more. You know my number.”

           Another long, hard silence.

           Iris lifted her hand and reached out for him. “Damian-”

           He pulled away. “No.”

           After a moment’s pause, he slid out of his seat, getting to his feet. Taking a wallet out of his pocket, he took out a few bills and dropped them onto the table. “Just send me your information and I’ll wire you the money when I get home,” he said. “I’ll see you two.”

           “Damian,” said Iris, as he turned away and headed towards the entrance of the restaurant. She too got to her feet. “Damian-!”

           Without looking back, he left the restaurant and turned abruptly down the street, and then he was gone.

           Iris and Lian were left alone in a mostly-empty restaurant, three plates of food still before them. Lian picked at her plate while Iris slowly sat back down.

           For a solitary moment, Lian watched Iris. Then she said: “It’s fine. He’ll get over it.”

           Iris sat at the table with her girlfriend, passive and regretful.

—

             Standing in Heathrow airport a few days later, Damian looked up at the Departures board. In another few hours there was a flight out to Los Angeles. Something tugged at him deep in his body. He could go to California; accept the offer of grad school at UCLA, study sculpture or painting or whatever exactly it had been he’d applied for. One plane ticket, and he could walk away from it all.

           He boarded his flight to Gotham with no incident. On the plane he watched a sad movie. When the dog died, he cried.

           Damian returned to Wayne Manor in a taxi on Thursday morning. He paid the taxi driver and tipped him 200%, then fished a key out of his bag and placed his thumb against a scanner to unlock the door. Trailing his single suitcase in hand behind him, phone held in his other hand, he passed by the sitting room on his way to his room.

           His father sat in an armchair, reading the paper; when Damian passed by, he blinked in surprise. “Damian,” he called, and Damian stopped, then headed back to stand before the entrance to the sitting room. Bruce regarded him with a degree of disbelief, as if he was unsure this was the same boy who’d left just a few days ago. “You’re home.”

           “I am,” agreed Damian. “I just flew into Goodwin International.”

           Lowering his newspaper, Bruce replied, “I didn’t realize you were coming home so early. You should’ve called; I would have picked you up.”

           “It’s fine,” said Damian, dismissing the concern with a wave of his hand. “I didn’t want to trouble you.”

           “No trouble at all. Welcome back.” There was a slight pause, and then Bruce asked, “What made you leave London so soon?”

           Damian stood there before his father, his suitcase beside him. In his other hand, his phone buzzed: confirmation, as he had requested from Lian, that his bank transfer of fifteen thousand dollars had gone through.

           “No reason,” answered Damian with a shrug. His grip tightened on his phone. “I was lonely, I suppose.”